#something something taking off layers of clothing while also taking down emotional walls

[good-beanswrites]

Summary: With a night alone to talk, Leon is determined to uncover the "real" Lukas.

Woo happy @nagamas to @mrmissmrsrandom !! This was super fun to write, I hope you enjoy :D

[klausysworld]

🏖️ w klaus?

Much needed Vacation

Klaus loves to travel and after a thousand years of being on edge he was more than happy to relax for a while.

Since unlocking his werewolf side he was able to feel temperatures more, he would wear thicker clothes and added layers in the winter and had the desire to go shirtless everywhere in the summer. Not that I'm complaining but his siblings weren't the most fond.

Hope also found that she enjoyed the heat and so when I mentioned the idea of a vacation, the Mikaelsons were very excited. It was rare that the siblings were able to actually enjoy their luxuries but for the past for months everything had been lovely and calm and there was no sign of any threat for the near future.

So we flew first class, hired out a villa and claimed our rooms. Klaus had grabbed my hand and sped us to the biggest suit, bringing our bags and dropping onto the humongous bed with a pleased sigh.

I smiled and shut the door before opening our cases and beginning to put all our clothes on hangers and into the wardrobe. I could hear Klaus removing his clothes and pulling something else on, probably his swim trunks because Hope had been begging for them to go in the pool as soon as they arrived. I put our little wash bags into the bathroom and came back into the bedroom to see Klaus in his navy swim shorts and his wolf tooth necklace.

"You gonna go to the pool or the beach?" I asked as I sat beside him and traces my fingertips against the bare skin of his shoulders

"Pool, it's only the first day, I don't want sand to appear in all of my clothes for the next two weeks" he joked and I smiled widely. He just gazed at me for a moment before glancing to my shorts and t-shirt "are you coming?" he questioned with a tilt of his head

"Not today, it's already getting late and we agreed to cook the first night and to go out for food tomorrow. Elijah said he'd help." I explained and he hummed

"We can always go out for food, today, tomorrow, the whole holiday if you like. Don't stress about house tasks, just come relax, this was all your idea" he stood and tugged me by the wrist to stand which I did and I wrapped my arms around his neck

"I'm not stressing, I just want everything to go well. Besides if we eat out every day then it loses what makes it exciting" I reminded and he pouted

"Or it makes when you cook more special?" he offered and I gave him a look resulting in a sigh and a 'fine' before he gave me a kiss and disappeared out to the pool with Hope, Rebekah, Marcel, Kol and Freya whilst Elijah, Hayley, Davina and I were inside preparing food and inspecting the villa.

The first week consisted of nothing but the pool, snacks and sunbathing. The second week we began doing activities and taking day trips either all together or in groups or couples, plus Hope of course depending on who she wanted to spend the day with.

More often than not it was Klaus and I and whilst it was really sweet and we all had fun, I could see Klaus getting frustrated. We hadn't been intimate the entire vacation so far because someone was always awake during the night due to the heat and usually it was Hope. None of the walls were sound proof and the doors didn't have locks. Although Klaus was willing to risk it, I didn't want to traumatise Hope on her first family holiday.

But I knew he would burst soon. His hard non was permanent and he would press it against me at every possible opportunity, whispering dirty words or quietly begging for me to touch him. Klaus always went one way or the other when he got needy, either he got overly dominant or very submissive. I think this time, because the environment was to calm and everyone was happy, he became more subby and whiny for one-on-one attention rather then when he's agitated all the time and unable to grasp his emotions.

So I decided to check out the beach, people seemed to clear off in early evening for food and the entertainment facilities nearby so I planned to bring Klaus down around then.

I set up a blanket so we didn't have to sit on the burning hot sand and put a bottle of wine in a bucket of ice before going to get Klaus. I dragged him out with the promise of a surprise.

"Trust me okay? You'll like it" I told him as he huffed and puffed about wanting to know before we got there.

By the time we got there the sun was starting to set but the air remained hot, I lead him across the sand to the place I'd set up. His expression seemingly softened and a smile pulled at his pretty pink lips.

I pulled him down onto the blanket and kicked my sandals off. I lifted my dress off and put it on the edge of the blanket so that I was in only my bikini. I looked back to him to see him throwing his shirt away toward the sea and then his shorts so he was left in his briefs. I let out a short laugh and got onto my hands and knees, crawling on top of him and pressing him down by his chest.

His lips were on mine in a second though his kisses were much softer and more passionate than I expected if I were honest. His arms slid round my waist and his mouth opened as though begging for my tongue inside. I obliged of course and deepened the kiss, my knees squeezed his sides gently and my hands stroked at the stubble along the top of his neck and jaw to his face. I sucked gently at his tongue to make his groan. His hands wondered to untie the string keeping my breasts in place, the bikini top fell into him and then his hands moved to my bottoms. He tossed them away and whined into my mouth as he pressed his clothed dick between my legs.

I pressed my mouth firmly to his for a moment before pulling back to look between us and pull his briefs off his legs and to the sand. His hands were already pulling me back down via the back of my neck making me breath out a laugh and kiss at his lips until they were swollen and parted.

My hand stroked the length of his cock a few times to make sure he was ready but it was pretty obvious by now that he was more than ready.

I guided him inside me easily, letting out a relieved moan as he filled me inch by inch. He groaned and rocked his hips gently, his eyes closed and head falling back so our lips detached. I let out a hot breath and pressed against his chest, lifting myself up and bouncing slowly on his lap. I could see the sun starting to hide behind the softly crashing waves and the warm breeze skimmed over the both of us while we moved as one.

I could feel him pulsate inside me as his lashes fluttered against the apples of his cheeks and his swelled lips stayed parted to let out broken breaths of air. I tightened around him every few thrusts to watch his brows pull together. I smiled a lazy seeming smile as I rubbed my thumb in little circles on his sweat glazed chest.

"See? Told you...you'd...like it" I murmured breathlessly and he let out a chuckle and thrusted his hips up.

"mm love it" He whined and I grinned, moving a little faster so that my lower tummy began to twist pleasantly. His hands pulled at my hips to angle them differently, this position caused his tip to brush my spot and my hips to stutter before moving with more need.

He grunted and let out mumbled moans as he moved with more force. My hand fell forward to his side, landing in the sand instead of the blanket making me groan but clutch at the surface regardless. I could feel each grain brush between my fingers as the soft smack of his balls against my filled the air between our mix of panting.

I groaned when I felt my clit tingle and crave for attention. I dropped my spared hand down to where I needed and put my fingertips to use. I felt myself flutter around him and in response heard him let out a low moan. He squeezed my hips and rolled us over so he was on top.

"Klaus!" I whisper yelled when he pushed me into the sand, it all sticking to the pair of us.

"we'll sort it later" he muttered as he thrust his hips with more control and power. His pace quickened and his grip on my hips tightened as did I.

"Oh god" I whispered with a whimper. His face dropped to the side of my face, his soft lips pressing light kisses against my cheek and neck as I felt myself flood with warmth. I kept sliding my fingers over my clit, faster and faster until I felt that I couldn't stop. My sounds became a blur along with my vision as I listened to his encouraging whispers to let go.

"Fuck Nik, please-" I whined and he kissed my lips harshly. I let out a series of gasps when I felt him slam into my spot repeatedly, the heat from the air, the sand and our bodies all seemed to merge as I felt that powerful sensation rush through me and down my thighs as I let out a surprisingly loud cry of pleasure.

My hand slid out against the sand as my body went limp, legs falling to my sides and my face pressed into his chest. His breathing was heavy as thick ropes of cum shot into me without warning. My eyes were closed and I groaned slowly, my thighs trembled gently for a moment before I relaxed fully beneath him.

I could feel his warm hands cup my face and I slowly opened my eyes, smiling up at him as he kissed my lips softly.

“Thank you” I whispered and he chuckled softly

“It was your gift sweetheart, I should be thanking you” he corrected but I shook my head

“You did more” I whispered as he moves his hands under my back and lifted me up making me huff when sand fell from my hair.

“I really didn’t love but it’s sweet that you think so” he teased and I rolled my eyes

“Doesn’t matter” I mumbled and he smiled, holding me close making me wrap my arms around him.

We stayed on the beach for a while, trying to get as much sand off me as possible before getting up and trying to find out clothes.

Eventually we got back to the villa, everyone was in the pool and our food was sat waiting on the side making me smile as we took our plates to our room.

The rest of the week went perfectly and once we returned home we lasted another 3 full days before a major argument broke out and the longing for a holiday was back.

[fishfingersandscarves]

Because at this point I figured out I'll never get it done... Let me hand you the bits I started writing for the idea of:

What was captured was only the most human aspect of Dream of the Endless, because there is no way simple magic circle could fit the whole of what dream is. It changed dreams and way humans experience it, drove many of them mad, but it did not truly hold Dream. (Closer to lobotomy)

Hob was sure this dream was supposed to be a nightmare about Robyn's death. He could feel it on an instinctual level, even if it was also all wrong. The tavern was there, the same old building with worn wooden beams and formerly white walls darkened by years building has stood there. There were lights inside and noise, a vague suggestion of people inside, drinking and arguing.

But the unreality intensified in waves as he approached the building enough to see inside. Rather than people gathered inside to drink and play like he is certain there should be there were just vague blobs of shapes instead of people, pretending to sit around and a large one standing in the middle of space. The sound was still just distant incoherent noise that fails to form any words, getting louder but not any clearer. Only the smells of alcohol and sweat and general human unpleasantness are still the same. Then the shape of the middle blob shifts a bit and... oh, there is a splatter of blood, strangely stark and clear on the aged wood but with how unreal everything else looks it doesn't have the emotional impact it should. Hob knew what it represented, and it was hard not to, but he is also aware it was just a dream and not a realistic one. It wasn’t even a nightmare anymore.

Hob looked around, again wondering why there are no people in the dream that by all means should be full of them. Then he looked at his own hand, first just glancing down, then as there was something missing he lifted both his hands, trying to take a closer look, just to realize that he didn’t have hands at all.

Actually, his body felt like he isn't even human anymore. The edges of the dream frayed and dissolved while he was still there and watched it go.

And then he woke up. It was still somewhere in the middle of the night, but he could hear the neighbors' dog barking... since when they had a dog?

shapeless shadows clinging to the edges of the room seemingly deeper, with swaying movement for no discernable reason. Everything seems off, wrong in subtle ways, but enough to drive Hob to check his hands, just to see, to make sure he really has hands and it's not just another layer of that strange dream, but it was just a hand, normal. No need to think too hard about it. He drank some water and turned his pillow, determined to just go back to sleep. Hob rubbed the remains of sleep from his eyes, just as a desperate scream sounded out from the house on another side of the street.

Hob sat up on his bed with a groan, wondering what kind of insane night was it going to be. Clearly, something must be going on and he didn't want to have anything to do with it.

If anything important is happening he would hear about it in the morning, but probably it was nothing, he tried to convince himself. And yet, it felt like something behind him was watching him. But he knew it was just a wall there.

With the effect it had, Hob decided to put the dream he had just had firmly back into the nightmare category.

He grumbled to himself, burying himself into the warm sheets, determined to ignore the feeling and people who decided to be noisy in the middle of the night.

Barking continued.

(it is the neighbor, little bit carried up by dreams of being a dog)

Dream of the Endless swayed on his feet, corporeal form dissolving at the edges, flashes of clothes weaving in and out of existence as he followed the faint thread of power back home. He gave all he had in that one desperate effort and not much was left of his personification, just enough for the gravity of his greater self in the dreaming to pull rather than recreate.

And then his next approximation of step across the unreal space got pulled off course.

“Here in the darkness!” Whispers of voices were more suggestions than actual words at first.

“Here in the darkness!” Demanded attention, yanking another step.

“Here in the darkness!” Pulled Dream down, stumbling into corporality.

“Here in the Darkness!” His cloak was material, the air was cold and bones ached with the pain of wear.

The chants stopped and Dream couldn’t feel his self, just the faux blood rushing and thumping in his ears, the feeling of skin covering muscles, internal organs materializing and shifting inside. Disgustingly fleshy and painfully limited, human senses ringing and clawing at his self demanding attention in absence of eternal song of the minds. Wrong. Something so small and contained simply couldn’t be Dream of the Endless. And yet Dream was there, personified. It ached like a fresh wound, being cut away from himself. It was making him sick. It hurt.

He couldn’t get the incorporated vessel to move. There were muscles and he never before had needed to figure out how those functioned. There was skin and it was tight and uncomfortable. It felt like he was tied down in it. Flesh resisted.

The figures were gathered around, empty mindless dolls walking around. They were just lifeless existences, shifting as they moved away. The cloaks obscured features, but the faces didn’t matter either way. They were just dull things without dreams, without souls that Dream could sense.

Not worth any attention, even as one shaped as a child was pushed forward.

The thing took his dreamstone of anchoring and pulled the bag filled with grains of creation out of his fingers that refused to cooperate. The corporeality should be less stable without it, and yet the bones stayed aching underneath the mess of biological parts he rarely would bother to pay any mind to.

Even those things didn’t help lifeless things to fix their lacking souls, but it hurt even more for Dream to be separated with even those bits of self, like the things had some malicious intelligence guiding them to tear away even more bits of what Dream was.

He tried to abandon the corporation, to drift into the diffused self.

The void welcomed him instead.

Hob glanced over the pub casually and then froze. There was a *thing* standing in the doorway, something vaguely resembling human, but like the bad rendition put together from pieces that were decidedly not.

Someone else noticed the thing as the whimpering inhale suggested and after that first reaction everyone else did as well, the voices fell silent, and heads turned, everyone seemingly too frozen in fear to react. Bunch of bloody animals in face of predator no one could escape from. Not when thing stood blocking the exit.

And then it moved, taking what probably was supposed to be a step, but flesh flowed and oozed and flowed in air all at once in a sickening manner, for a moment splitting things "leg" into two. The movement of the body parts was disjointed and it slid forward out of sync with it. It was moving toward hob, black holes in its head glowing with distant supernovas.

Then it shifted and yet it felt like it didn't change at all, marble sculpture of perfectly white skin, raven feathers formed into a shock of black hair sticking from the head, and Hob felt his stomach sink with realization.

It was trying to look like his Stranger. Failing badly at this but as it came closer he could feel that there was something familiar in its aura.

Someone screamed in the background, the piercing noise of panic, that seemingly broke people out of their terrified stupor, to make them run.

But the thing... flared, for the lack of a better term. And people settled on their places, back to their discussions and drinks like they haven't seen anything. Like thing was not standing right there in front of the table with a humble professor on other side.

"HOB GADLING" thing rumbled in a voice that wasn't voice, cascading of sounds of nature somehow coalescing into meaningful words. And then it wasn't using even that anymore, just flashes of images and intent flowing into Hob's mind, popping right there but obviously separate. Greeting. Then shift to question about his time between meetings, but not giving nearly enough time for Hob to form the words as it moved on from a topic, right into question if he still wishes to live. Almost as if this thing was following some sort of programmed script.

Hob felt bitter thinking about how it must mean his stranger doesn't want to meet him again if he sent this thing... but then he remembered the date. It was years early. As he thought that the thing seemingly responded to his thought, responding with a sensation of time flowing weirdly, non-linear, and grand concept. Too much.

He found himself slumped on the table, alone. The pounding headache suggested he had far too much to drink. But he couldn't have just hallucinated the bizarre meeting. Whatever it really meant. Something must be wrong. Something about his Stranger, almost certainly.

And Dream sitting in the fishbowl, disconnected and unaware what the hell is going on. The impersonal Dreaming definitely would capture back quickly at least the sand, maybe grabbing ruby quickly as well. Because while it isn't a person at the moment, it is all animals and plants and planets and stars and all has instinct to try being whole. Probably without anything else actually changing on front of capture, since Hob lacks way to figure out stuff, and there are no hints to try looking for something captured. So Morpheus is mourning that he is forced to miss the meeting. And when one day he is free, one if the first things to do is to rush and apologize for not coming and Hob is all so confused because he kind of was there twice in last century? He didn't quite look well, but it felt like him?

And Morpheus makes decision to basically sit with hob and wait for rest of him to come and pick him up because he clearly can't find the way to even try going back.

ooooooooooooo i love this <3 the body horror of it all <3

[entropy-mephit]

Reposting because Tumblr decided to be funny

Hob was sure this dream was supposed to be a nightmare about Robyn's death. He could feel it on an instinctual level, even if it was also all wrong. The tavern was there, the same old building with worn wooden beams and formerly white walls darkened by years building has stood there. There were lights inside and noise, a vague suggestion of people inside, drinking and arguing.

But the unreality intensified in waves as he approached the building enough to see inside. Rather than people gathered inside to drink and play like he is certain there should be there were just vague blobs of shapes instead of people, pretending to sit around and a large one standing in the middle of space. The sound was still just distant incoherent noise that fails to form any words, getting louder but not any clearer. Only the smells of alcohol and sweat and general human unpleasantness are still the same. Then the shape of the middle blob shifts a bit and... oh, there is a splatter of blood, strangely stark and clear on the aged wood but with how unreal everything else looks it doesn't have the emotional impact it should. Hob knew what it represented, and it was hard not to, but he is also aware it was just a dream and not a realistic one. It wasn’t even a nightmare anymore.

Hob looked around, again wondering why there are no people in the dream that by all means should be full of them. Then he looked at his own hand, first just glancing down, then as there was something missing he lifted both his hands, trying to take a closer look, just to realize that he didn’t have hands at all.

Actually, his body felt like he isn't even human anymore. The edges of the dream frayed and dissolved while he was still there and watched it go.

And then he woke up. It was still somewhere in the middle of the night, but he could hear the neighbors' dog barking... since when they had a dog?

shapeless shadows clinging to the edges of the room seemingly deeper, with swaying movement for no discernable reason. Everything seems off, wrong in subtle ways, but enough to drive Hob to check his hands, just to see, to make sure he really has hands and it's not just another layer of that strange dream, but it was just a hand, normal. No need to think too hard about it. He drank some water and turned his pillow, determined to just go back to sleep. Hob rubbed the remains of sleep from his eyes, just as a desperate scream sounded out from the house on another side of the street.

Hob sat up on his bed with a groan, wondering what kind of insane night was it going to be. Clearly, something must be going on and he didn't want to have anything to do with it.

If anything important is happening he would hear about it in the morning, but probably it was nothing, he tried to convince himself. And yet, it felt like something behind him was watching him. But he knew it was just a wall there.

With the effect it had, Hob decided to put the dream he had just had firmly back into the nightmare category.

He grumbled to himself, burying himself into the warm sheets, determined to ignore the feeling and people who decided to be noisy in the middle of the night.

Barking continued.

Dream of the Endless swayed on his feet, corporeal form dissolving at the edges, flashes of clothes weaving in and out of existence as he followed the faint thread of power back home. He gave all he had in that one desperate effort and not much was left of his personification, just enough for the gravity of his greater self in the dreaming to pull rather than recreate.

And then his next approximation of step across the unreal space got pulled off course.

“Here in the darkness!” Whispers of voices were more suggestions than actual words at first.

“Here in the darkness!” Demanded attention, yanking another step.

“Here in the darkness!” Pulled Dream down, stumbling into corporeality.

“Here in the Darkness!” His cloak was material, the air was cold and bones ached with the pain of wear.

The chants stopped and Dream couldn’t feel his self, just the faux blood rushing and thumping in his ears, the feeling of skin covering muscles, internal organs materializing and shifting inside. Disgustingly fleshy and painfully limited, human senses ringing and clawing at his self demanding attention in absence of eternal song of the minds. Wrong. Something so small and contained simply couldn’t be Dream of the Endless. And yet Dream was there, personified. It ached like a fresh wound, being cut away from himself. It was making him sick. It hurt.

He couldn’t get the incorporated vessel to move. There were muscles and he never before had needed to figure out how those functioned. There was skin and it was tight and uncomfortable. It felt like he was tied down in it. Flesh resisted.

The figures were gathered around, empty mindless dolls walking around. They were just lifeless existences, shifting as they moved away. The cloaks obscured features, but the faces didn’t matter either way. They were just dull things without dreams, without souls that Dream could sense.

Not worth any attention, even as one shaped as a child was pushed forward.

The thing took his dreamstone of anchoring and pulled the bag filled with grains of creation out of his fingers that refused to cooperate. The corporeality should be less stable without it, and yet the bones stayed aching underneath the mess of biological parts he rarely would bother to pay any mind to.

Even those things didn’t help lifeless things to fix their lacking souls, but it hurt even more for Dream to be separated with even those bits of self, like the things had some malicious intelligence guiding them to tear away even more bits of what Dream was.

He tried to abandon the corporation, to drift into the diffused self.

The void welcomed him instead.

[kapaskatha]

5 must-have pieces for your kid's collection:

Building a home in which you along with your better half creates a family is an emotional yet once-in-a-lifetime experience. You want to accumulate your home with the best of the things. Be it shortlisting the sober wall colours or handcrafted decorative stuff. Things take a highway turn, once you have a kid. Becoming more observant and careful than ever is very natural. Habits like protecting your kids, from edgy table corners, and counting their breaths till they finally sleep peacefully develop prominently in no time. You hide all the possible things with which your kid can hurt themselves, yet after all these efforts, they are most likely to do something notorious. But still, we can put our best efforts into preventing the kids, and their skin from all the harmful bacteria and managing their daily activities as much as possible. Your kids from the very initial stage of their upbringing require utmost care and attention. you have to keep an eye on Everything and anything– the tiniest detail that can go wrong. From bedsheets, and quilts to their toys; a considerate choice can make a large difference from the very beginning. To take care of every bit of it, especially of the family you’re bringing into existence, Kapaas Katha has launched a special kids collection under our Home and kids section, and the response has been really overwhelming, which made us work harder to provide better for all the parents and the kids out there. Here are 5 must-have pieces for your kid's collection to lighten up your home with much positivity:

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Kids Quilt/ Comforters: Quilts are one of the most versatile clothing pieces for any kid that could be comfy and also keep the kids warm at the same time. Well, quilts are made with layers of multiple soft clothes stitched together. It's all on you how you want to use the quilt, you can use it to cover your baby, the very obvious and the most doable option by everyone but at the same time you can use it as a carpet for your kids to crawl or just to lay down during the very initial month. These are definitely the ultimate soft quilt your kids would be craving.

Quilted pouch: If you're looking for a unique yet useful gift for anyone in your circle who is the parent-to-be, then a quilted pouch would be one of the best options out there. Usually, new parents are bombarded with tons of baby products, which may not be suitable for every baby out there. To avoid that, and outshine your gift as the handiest one, quilted pouches should be your go-to choice. It is best to carry all the essentials your kid would need.

Kapaas Katha’s Home and Kid collection:

From our corner of heart to yours- Kapaas Katha’s Home and Kids collection is something curated not just with the premium material but with all the love we have towards the very concept of family and the rollercoaster ride of emotions to build one of your own. Keeping this very thing in our mind, we have tried our best to use the exclusive material for your kids and family to have the best of us.

You can buy them for yourself, or your kids or you can simply gift them to your loved ones who are to be parents or already are. It will not only serve the purpose for their future but will also be considered the most thoughtful gesture ever.

Kapaas Katha awaits serving you with the best!

[yangyuege]

Flying not Falling

STORY 2 - Zither

When I was 9, my parents took me to one of the largest music stores in the town where we lived. As I browsed through the neatly arranged instruments in the store, I felt them staring at me with eager eyes as if they were waiting for me to "caress" them. I was so dazzled that I didn't know which one to choose until I saw a special one. Unlike those gorgeous pianos carefully placed on the floor, or the delicate guitars elegantly hung on the wall, it was the only one that was left in the corner covered with a black cloth. Even from a distance, I could see a thick layer of dust on it, as if no one had touched it or even noticed it for a long time.

"What is that?"

"A Chinese Guzheng." The seller replied impatiently, probably because I didn't pay attention to those expensive pianos that he had gently wiped with a soft cloth.

" I love it!" I said to my mom. I walked up to it, gently dusted off the ash that had fallen on the cloth, and then carefully lifted the cloth. Suddenly, a gentle woody aroma greets my nostrils. I knew immediately that this would be the instrument that accompany me while I grow up.

From then, every weekend, my mom would drive me for Gushing lessons, 1 hour per lesson, probably the most enjoyable hour of the week for me. After a while of playing, I got better gradually, and also got my first chance to stand on the stage - an instrumental performance competition. When our teacher asked if anyone wanted to volunteer for this event, I could feel my eyes sparkle with excitement so I raised my hand without hesitation.

But I also began to realize that it takes extreme patience and a lot of practice to play this instrument well. I have to admitted that, unfortunately, I was not the musical prodigy that I once thought I was. When those ugly and hard calluses started to appear on my tender hands, when I played the rhythm wrong and broke the strings over and over again, I started to become anxious. I couldn't help but wonder if I had chosen the wrong instrument in the first place, that maybe I shouldn't have gotten caught up in its specialness, that maybe a more widely known instrument like the piano or the guitar would have suited me better.

"No matter how it ends, I'm going to give it a try."  I encouraged myself using these innocent words.

UCL: http://image.baidu.com

And here I was, standing on the biggest stage I had ever seen at that time, wearing the gorgeous makeup and in a beautiful white dress with pink flowers lying on it. I took my Guzheng to the stage and my heart pounded. The spotlights that shone on me were getting hotter and hotter, and I could feel the sweat slowly trickling down my cheeks. But I knew that was not out of fear but out of excitement. With all eyes on me, it was as if I suddenly began to get the hang of it, and every time I struck the strings, I could feel myself resonating with it, just as I had when I first saw it in the music store. This wonderful feeling was something I had never felt before, as if my Guzheng and I were made for the stage. From then on, I knew I would never give it up, no matter what the outcome was...

When the host slowly raised the microphone and announced the winners in a rousing tone, my name was not mentioned. But instead of feeling disappointed, I seemed to be inspired and motivated. These emotions are the main reasons that supported me to obtain the Guzheng Grade 10 certificate at the age of 13, as the youngest student in our music school.

I used to be frustrated and upset by the mistakes I made, but in retrospect, those times were just when I started to realize I was an ordinary person. Life is a journey of repeated failures and rejuvenation, and only those who dare to “fall” will have the chance to "fly". Perhaps, from the beginning, being a famous Guzheng player was never my goal, but becoming a brave and determined person is what I ultimately want.

[moemoemammon]

Following that "least favorite" request could we get their reactions to being to told that they're their favorite, but to not tell the other brothers so their feelings don't get hurt? Maybe because they relate to them the most or just get along really well. Thanks!

You're My Favorite! But Don't Tell the Others-

(Feat. GN!MC and the Demon Bros)

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Lucifer

There are no words to explain the overwhelming satisfaction ion Lucifer’s face after you tell him that. Of course, it’s only natural that he would be your favorite, all things considered.

The Avatar of Pride won’t ever forget this moment. He carefully considers your words and agrees not to tell anyone, as much as he’d love to bring it up, because he knows more than anyone what kind of chaos would ensue should the others (especially Mammon) find out.

But they can tell something’s up when the eldest has been heard humming all day. He moves about the house with even more grace than usual, and hasn’t scowled even once.

But the REAL shocker was when Mammon tried hiding a bill right as Lucifer walked in... and the eldest let him off with a warning. A WARNING! The brothers thought the Devildom must’ve frozen over, but you and he knew different.

“MC, I would like you to accompany me to Le Pluvier this afternoon, once you've finished your studies. I've already made reservations, so be sure to get ready on time. I've made sure to consider the things you might like to eat, so I'm sure you'll enjoy yourself. Don't be late." "...I'm grinning? I don't know what you're talking about."

Mammon

The gigantic grin on Mammon’s face is so bright, it could rival the sun. You’ve seriously made his day. No, his year. Actually, he’s pretty sure he could ride this high for the next millennia! There’s nothing in this world that could dampen his spirits right now! 

He feels like he just won big at the casino! Of course he’s your favorite! He WAS your first demon, and now he’s gone and claimed his rightful spot as your number one! Good luck trying to keep him from saying anything. Mammon’s gonna throw it around in everyone’s faces for as long as he can milk it.

And you thought he was clingy before, just wait till you see how he treats you after hearing that. Despite always calling you his ‘servant’ or his ‘human’, you’d  think your roles were reversed. Mammon spoils you every chance he gets, buying you clothes and trinkets, filling the spaces in your room with the things he knows you like, monopolizing you completely until nearly everything you own is a gift from him.

Your words also help soothe that jealousy of his a little. Only a little, though. It’s easier to watch you talk to other demons when he knows he’ll always be your first man.

“Didja really have to stay after class that long? I know you were talkin' to that demon that lent you a book, but you outta ask ME for stuff! Tch... you're lucky I'm in a good mood today! But I guess I don't have to worry about some low level demon like that, seein' as I'm your favorite!"

Levi

Wait wait wait....Come again? Did you seriously just say what he think you said..? That had to be a mistake! Some kind of...uh..verbal typo! Because there’s absolutely, positively, NO WAY in all of the nine layers that he could be your favorite demon. And yet you still insist that you’re telling the truth, and Levi feels like he’s died and gone to heaven. 

Red faced and stammering up a storm, Levi looks like he might die. Is it really okay for a shut-in otaku to feel this giddy? Seriously, he hasn’t felt like this since he got his hands on a signed copy of a Ruri Hana audio drama! No no, this definitely beats that!

You’ve managed to inflate his nearly nonexistent ego, and now he feels like there’s nothing he can’t do! Maybe he could even go to Majolish right now?? THAT’S how good he’s feeling!

Almost as bad as Mammon in keeping it a secret. He doesn’t tell anyone right away, but they’re suspicious when they notice how much time he’s spending out of his room. And then when he and Mammon get in another petty argument, he drops the bomb that he’s your favorite demon in the entire Devildom, and you can guess how things go from there.

“Uuuoooo...!!!!! I've decided..! Since I've got a serious stat buff, I'm going to open a booth at the next convention coming up..! I'll sell my Ruri-chan fan art and spread her influence all over the Devildom! I'd never have the guts to do it normally, but I feel like I could do anything right now! Y-you'll go too, won't you MC?"

Satan

You nearly made this man spit tea all over his book, and now he’s coughing and spluttering and trying to figure out what could’ve prompted what he’s taking as a confession. You.. do realize what you’re saying, don’t you? And you know the kind of effect your words have on him?

Satan isn’t the type that wears his heart on his sleeve, so you have to look for his subtle expressions to tell how he’s feeling. But there’s nothing subtle about the redness of his ears and how he’s begging you not to look at him right now. For the sake of his sanity, give him a minute to recoup.

When he does recover, he agrees to keep it a secret for obvious reasons. And it’s hard to tell that he’s in a good mood, other than the fact that he hasn’t tried to pull any pranks on Lucifer lately. But Asmo sees all, and literally hounds him into spilling the tea.

He tells him a lie of course, but now the other brothers are noticing just how happy he is. Satan's smiling way too much today, isn't he? And he didn't even get mad when Beel got whipped cream on his jacket! Well, not THAT mad, anyway.

"Haaah... everyone's been harassing me all day, claiming I'm smiling a lot. I'm sure I look the same as I always do, but I'll admit that I've been happy ever since you told me that this morning. Wait.. you did think I've been grinning too, do you? I have??"

Asmo

Asmo always jokes about being your favorite and announces it as if the two of you are married, but when you actually confirm that his longing for you isn’t one sided, he ends up smearing lip balm across his cheek in shock. Did you... really say that just now? He knew it all along, but hearing it like that is just...!

Ooooh, he’s so happy he can hardly contain himself! Asmo throws his arms around you, peppering your face in kisses until you feel sticky from lip balm, wipes your face clean, then marks it up all over again. Good luck getting rid of him, because he might never let go.

Immediately posts it to Devilgram. Did you really think he’d let such a momentous occasion go unannounced? You must not have been paying attention to the kind of person he is! Asmo would put you on a pedestal in front of the world like a precious jewel if he were able, but this’ll have to do. He won’t hide his love at all!

Of course, the others don’t take too kindly to it, not that he cares. He never leaves your side, pampers you like crazy, and has even attempted to get you to move into his room. Lucifer put an immediate stop to that, though. Boo...

“I just can't get enough of you, MC! Just being near you gets me so excited that I can hardly stand it! You'll take responsibility for what you're doing to me, won't you? And in exchange, I'll take my time showing you just how much I love you. After all, you're my favorite, too!"

Beel

Beel never has a problem with choking while he eats, and it comes as naturally as breathing. Unfortunately neither of that applies right now, since you just made him choke on a meatball sub.

He usually takes your words with quiet acceptance, but this might be the most emotion you've ever witness from the stoic demon. His eyes are wider than that time that laid on an entire gingerbread mansion, sparkling up with such deep emotion you wouldn't be surprised if he cried. Instead he softens up and immediately embraces you.

...And doesn't let go. Sandwich long forgotten, he's been carrying you around all day, and ignoring any questions or protests from his brothers. Also insists on feeding you throughout the day. The food tastes better when he can enjoy it with you, so why not just bring you everywhere?

When he isn't carrying you, he's following you around subconsciously, either close up against you like a protective wall, or just far enough that you're within his line of sight. As far as not telling anyone, he... tells Belphie immediately. It was an accident though, since there's not much he keeps from his twin.

"MC, I won a meal ticket for Godevil Chocolatier. Let's get something for dessert today. Ah, you can get as much as you want, too. I really want to see what things you choose. They might become my favorites."

Belphie

There's nothing in this world that can wake Belphegor from his sleep, unless he allows it. No loud noises, no amount of shaking or smacking, and not even dragging him around the house. But the moment you whisper that he's your favorite demon, the Avatar of Sloth is wide awake.

Hey, you're not just saying weird things to get a reaction, are you? Because if so, this is a new level of cruel. Yet you confirm that you mean it and swear him into secrecy, and Belphie tries his best not to show how happy he is. A smile keeps creeping up on his face that he struggles to force down. It's annoying...

As funny as it’d be to tell everyone the news, he's good at keeping secrets. Instead, you've noticed that he's been sleeping a little less that before. When he does take one of his hundreds of naps, he finds some way to be closer to you. He's even been seen sleepwalking to your exact location somehow-

It's hard for him to believe that you're not teasing, though. How could HE be your favorite demon here? Belphie doesn't do anything special to win you over, yet after everything he put you through, you like him enough to deep him your favorite?

"You're weird, MC. I mean... me? I won't deny that I'm really happy though, but I guess I'm in disbelief. You should spoil me even more until I believe you. Lend me your lap for a few hours, okay?" "...I wonder what Lucifer would think if I told him, heheh."

[sluttyminghao]

✧ pairing: hansol vernon chwe x fem!reader ✧ word count: a short and sweet 1.4k ✧ genre: extra fluffy smut                                                                                                           ✧ warnings: literally nothing except cockwarming, also stress from a new job if that counts ✧ a/n: for my darling @junsol​, i hope that your days get better and that this short fic helps you get through it! 

You were tired, frustrated, and every other negative emotion you could think of as you stomped toward the front door of your apartment. It didn’t help that the cold winter air had been practically attacking you ever since you left your job and had to walk home, the chill seeping through your many layers of clothing and biting at your skin. You were just glad that you didn’t live very far from work otherwise you may have had more meltdowns today than you were hoping for.

Once you had fished the key out of your pocket and opened the door, you were immediately met with the warmth of your heated home. You closed your apartment door with a sigh and leaned momentarily against the wall, urging the tears welling up in your eyes to stay put. The last few weeks had been pure hell for you, with starting a new job that was very intensive and draining, it felt as if you didn’t have any time for yourself. It made you feel even worse when you thought about your boyfriend, who you had hardly even seen with your early morning starts and late-night finishes.

“Hey, baby! I’m in the kitchen!” Vernon’s voice floated through your apartment and brought a small smile to your face despite your shit day. Toeing your shoes off and shrugging off your jacket, you padded silently towards the kitchen, letting your arms snake around Vernon’s waist from his position over the stove. He could feel your body slump into his back, and while he couldn’t see you, he knew something was wrong.

He remained silent for a few minutes, seeing if you would speak up about what was on your mind. He watched the simmering pot on the stove, the colours of the spaghetti sauce and the spices he had used blending until they were a rich red before he decided to turn in your grip to face you and find out what was wrong.

As soon as he caught a look at your face, he knew your day had been long and tiring. Your eyes were puffy and slightly red, he figured you cried on your way home. You also had significant eye bags, and your skin looked lifeless. He noticed a stray tear fall onto your cheek, quickly wiping it away with the pad of his thumb before kissing your cheek softly where the tear had landed. 

“What’s wrong, my love? Did you have a hard day?” His voice was soothing and compassionate and somehow managed to make some of the weight on your shoulders lift. You swore he was magic. You could only nod, not trusting your voice in that current moment, before you were burying your face in his chest and sobbing heavily. You felt one of his hands wrap around your waist, while the other came up to your scalp and began running his hands through it softly.

It was something he had always done to calm you down in these kinds of situations, which you were immensely grateful for. You slowly felt yourself leaning more and more into his firm body, letting him take care of you in the best ways possible. “This new job is so hard, I’m so stressed and I feel like I hardly ever see you anymore with how much I’m working,” you finally croaked out, letting your chin rest against Vernon’s chest. You could feel the tears beginning to pool again, but you squeezed your eyes shut so they wouldn’t fall.

He only smiled at you and placed a gentle kiss on your nose, before placing another on your forehead and one last one on the crown of your head. “Baby, I know it’s been hard for you, but I’m not going anywhere okay? I’m always going to be here and I’ll support you on your hard and stressful days,” he replied, letting his fingers run through your hair once more.

You were so lucky to have him.

“Do you want to eat? I made us spaghetti,” he spoke quietly, nodding his head in the direction of the food. You shook your head quickly, but placed a quick peck on his lips and let a small grin tug at the corner of your lips. “I’m not overly hungry right now, but could we maybe cuddle for a bit instead?” You let your grin take over your features when he instantly nodded, letting you guide him towards the sofa.

He plopped onto the sofa with a small sigh and opened up his arms to you so you could crawl into them. You didn’t hesitate to slide onto his lap, letting your head drop onto his shoulder and your arms wrapped around his chest. You felt comfortable and safe in his arms, no matter where you were or what you were doing. He was your safe place.

It was silent between the two of you as you cuddled, but it was comfortable. Vernon’s hands were aimlessly wandering the expanse of your back, while his lips planted soft kisses along your shoulders and up your jaw. The feeling of his lips on your skin sent small tingles down your spine, and you couldn’t help but lean your head up and kiss him passionately.

“I know other ways to help you relieve stress,” Vernon mumbled against your lips, your eyebrow quirking up while you waited for his response. “You could sit on my dick,” he seemed shy as he spoke, a blush creeping up his cheeks. The idea did seem fun in your mind and would definitely help you relieve some stress, so you agreed before letting him slide his sweats down to his mid-thigh, just enough room for him to pull his half-hard cock out.

You took his cock in your hand and pumped it slowly, watching as his head fell back against the sofa cushions while he let out a guttural groan. “Your hands...are amazing,” he gasped, watching in awe as you stroked him to his full hardness. “I could say the same to you,” you replied quickly, discarding your own pants and underwear before sitting on his thigh.

He captured your lips in a heated kiss once again, and you could feel the arousal igniting inside of you and licking through every inch of your body. Vernon’s hand crept its way down your abdomen, and upon reaching your folds, he began teasing them and letting his fingers wander until they found your clit. He rubbed in slow, soft circles, just enough to elicit a small whine from you.

The teasing went on for a while longer, making sure you were both ready before you finally sunk onto his cock. The stretch made you hiss, and there was a slight sting that came from sitting on him so quickly, but it melted quickly into pleasure the longer you felt him inside of you. When you were finally seated at the base of his cock, you sighed and relaxed significantly, not going unnoticed by your boyfriend.

“Feeling better, baby?” He whispered, letting his lips ghost over your jawline. “So much better,” you replied, letting your fingers dance along the back of his hairline. He let his head crane forward slightly so that he could attach your lips to his, and you kissed him back sweetly, letting him take initiative and guide you.

Sitting on his lap like this was somehow relaxing and torturous at the same time. As much as you wanted to bounce on him as if your life depended on it, you knew you just didn’t have the energy. Even now, just sitting on his cock while he showered you with praises and affection was all you really needed, and he knew that was what you needed.

“I know your job is stressful right now, just like any other person starting a new job, but please remember I will always take care of you, no matter how hectic my own schedule is,” he spoke into the silence, and you felt your eyes well up with tears at his statement. “Please don’t cry, baby, I love you and I will always take care of you,” he added, letting his thumb brush over your cheek.

“I know...I love you too,” you choked out, moving one of your hands from his chest up to run it through his soft hair. He always knew just what to say, and for that, you were so grateful. This was exactly what you needed after your draining week, and he had lived up to the expectations and exceeded them beyond even your wildest dreams.

Maybe you would use cockwarming as a stress reliever more often.

[cinnamonest]

//some horrendous gaslighting

I love my stranger-to-noncon very much but I don't give enough attention to consensual relationships taking a turn for the worse, or utterly toxic and abusive boyfriends and Kaeya is the perfect candidate for that so here we go.

-----

I've mentioned before the Kaeya would be exceptionally violent in comparison to other yanderes, but it's important to note that he's also among the most emotionally sensitive, and those two things do not go together well.

Not sensitive outwardly, of course, he's spent years developing that personality of his as a defense mechanism, can easily pretend he doesn't care about anything, but deep down that abandonment complex and those insecurities are strong and easily triggered. Some of the ways it manifests are mild, like how he gets overly attached to you within a week of knowing you, commits and tries to move way too fast even in completely mutual and consensual relationships. The kind of guy that suggests moving in together a week into the relationship, and dropping I love you so early on that you're left to merely blink in surprise because you barely know each other, but under the pressure and awkwardness you find yourself stuttering out a reciprocation, even though it's quite untrue. Guilt-trips and pressures his way into fucking you within a couple of days.

He's a very different person behind closed doors, it comes out maybe a month in when he lets the walls drop and lets himself trust you. He's more vulnerable, sweeter. Oddly... Eager to trust. It's like he desperately wants someone he can latch onto and show some vulnerability around and chose you to be that someone.

But also different in other ways. More... Bitter. More grumpy. More immature.

He's not sensitive in general, he doesn't really care about what most people say or do, but that sensitivity comes out once he's attached to a person, which happens rather quickly. You start noticing it rather quickly in a mutual relationship, and it likely shocks you honestly that he's so... immature. You spend the day with one of your friends -- just one, catch up with them, haven't seen them in a while... and when you get home things are rather quiet. He's usually a very talkative person, so you can't figure out what's wrong. Maybe something bad happened, but he insists no, it's fine. There's nothing wrong. And then you catch the last part, much quieter, spoken under his breath in that lighthearted tone he speaks in, yet with a bitterness to it.

You wouldn't care anyway, you're too busy with your friends.

It takes you by surprise at first because holy shit, really? It seems so petulant that it can't possibly be real, but... Maybe he really did have a bad day and is just getting his anger out by directing it at the first thing he can. That's not right, but hey, everyone has weak moments where they do some bad things. Besides, you weren't there for him, so he feels worse right? Still, you spent every day the past month except this one day with him... No, it's just poor timing, that's all.

Until it happens again. And again. And he swears he likes your friends, smiles at them, but it... Looks forced. Always complaining that you spend so much time with them and completely ignore him. Do you even care? Do you value the relationship at all? You try to not get angry and be rational, but still defend yourself because you spend almost all of your time with him don't you? You can't get much out before he just huffs and stomps away, rolls his eyes (well, you assume he rolls both of them, you can't tell but-- nevermind, not the point) and gives you a cold shoulder. Until you apologize, then it's like the switch has flipped back on, there's love and smiles and warmth and hugs again.

It starts to get on your nerves. You start to wonder if maybe this isn't healthy for you, if maybe you should end things, but you decide to give him another chance, right? We all make mistakes. He's under a lot of stress. Just... It'll be fine.

And the first time it gets physical he swears it's an accident. It leaves an ugly scar. You're going out because come on, it's my family, I haven't seen them in forever.

It just happens, he explains, it's unintentional, emotions get channeled through the vision like that. Comforts you as you sit on the ground crying and clutching your arm that he grabbed as you walked out the door, skin darkened and purplish from the freeze that's seared through a layer of your skin. He sighs and says he's sorry, really, he feels horrible already, so don't get mad, ok? He already feels terrible enough... Don't be mean. He didn't mean it. Don't be mean. Don't be fucking mean about it, stop fucking crying. You're making him feel worse.

He seems genuinely sorry, you tell yourself. It's not his fault. You can't blame him. It's ok.

It's harder to excuse the next time it gets physical. Maybe freezing last time was unintentional, and maybe it hurt, but you weren't terrified like this. A hand around your throat is different.

But can you blame him? You were threatening to leave. Honestly, you weren't approaching it healthily, you weren't trying to actually have a serious talk, you were trying to guilt him and gaslight him and it's honestly emotionally abusive, you know? You're the one in the wrong here. How selfish and cruel. How can you do that and not even feel guilty?

It makes you rethink. It makes you question your own sanity. And it makes you apologize. Makes you say you didn't mean it. You find yourself feeling dizzy, disoriented, like everything isn't real and everything is too much. You try to sleep it off.

And he doesn't like delving into the past. He tries to avoid it. Tries to not think about it. Doesn't even really tell you anything until nearly a year in, a drunken confession of sadness and misery. It makes you feel guilty somehow. Poor thing. He's been through a lot, you tell yourself. Maybe you should be more patient and understanding, help him work through it. You can fix him, per se, can't you? Sure, people say that never works, but... He just needs love, really, it's not like he's that bad.

He hates bringing it up like this even more. It just feels weak and vulnerable but it comes out anyway. You're threatening him again, and honestly, that's a sickening thing to do considering what you know, how can you be so vicious?

You're just like everyone else, aren't you?

You're just going to abandon him like this was nothing. You don't care at all. You're heartless. Ungrateful. He's done so much for you. And this is how you repay him, huh? Disappointing, honestly. He thought you were special. Kind. Understanding. Didn't realize you were just as cruel as everyone else in his life, aren't you?

He just has this way of making you doubt yourself. You pull at your hair and cry. I'm going insane. You keep the thought to yourself, but you fall to your knees and promise you're really sorry this time. He sighs. Fine, he'll give you another chance. He's a patient man. You just need to work on yourself, become a less toxic person.

But apparently that's not enough, and eventually you get dumped.

It comes as a surprise. But he says he's had enough of you being so emotionally manipulative and neglectful. You hardly ever spend time with him (like, only 29 days a month? Unbelievable!). You cry and try to make him feel bad, when the things he does aren't that bad. You always claim to be too tired to fuck. You try to gaslight him into thinking all that's acceptable. It's toxic and abusive, so, he's done.

You find yourself in shock. Confusion. It feels unreal. The first thing you worry about is if you can even find a new boyfriend... Your body is completely littered in freeze-burn scars by now, after all.

Were you really in the wrong? You're not too experienced in relationships, maybe he's right about everything he said... Maybe you really did him wrong...

Which is why you come crawling back. Crying. Apologizing.

Exactly as planned.

So he sighs and agrees. Fine. You can have another chance.

The second time, the third time, he always forgives you and takes you back. Even though you don't deserve it. He just loves you so much, you know? He keeps forgiving you.

Until one day you don't show up.

When you leave that time, you seem almost angry. You don't cry this time. Your hands ball into fists and for once, for the first time, as you storm out, you say--

Fine.

Unusual, but you were always moody like that. Odd choice of words. No matter, it's not like you're actually fine with it, you'll come crawling back any minute now.

It's already been several hours. Why aren't you at his doorstep already? Did he make you feel that bad? Maybe he went too far... You're probably just at home crying or something. You'll come back by tomorrow morning.

You don't.

Ok. Maybe you feel too guilty. Maybe you're reflecting on how awful you've been. That would take some time to get over, since you've done so many bad things. It won't be long before you come back.

A day passes. Two days pass.

What's taking you so long?

He finally swallows his pride. Maybe you're being stubborn. Trying to make him feel bad. Yeah, that's something you'd do. Or maybe you're trying to make him feel all alone, take advantage of the one thing you know bothers him. How mean. But he loves you. You know that. So you'll appreciate it when he checks on you, apologizes for maybe going too far, and he really loves you, he loves you so much, so how about you two just go home and forget this ever happened and have lots and lots of makeup sex and cuddle? And then you can tell him you're sorry and love him too and promise to stay forever? He's already got the speech practiced a few times in his head walking over to your place, the one you haven't really lived in for a while now since he demanded you basically move in with him. All your clothes and stuff are at his place now. You would have taken that with you if you ever actually intended to leave, so clearly this is a ploy to get him to come to you, as if that wasn't already obvious.

Your eyes narrow when you open the door and your face contorts with anger. And you snarl that you've had enough. He wants you gone so much, fine, you're more than happy to oblige, you say. You're done. You don't even need your shit, keep it, you'd rather lose your stuff than set foot in that place again. You finally came to your senses and you're fucking done.

You say nasty things. You say he made your life a living hell and you're happy to be rid of him.

And then you say something worse. Something that sets something deep inside off. Something that feels like a stab to the gut.

You say if you'd known the truth about him you would have kicked him out a long time ago.

Maybe it's not about the same thing. Not meant the same way. But it feels too familiar nonetheless.

You see him freeze up. He just stands still for a moment. Not saying anything. Face blank and empty. His eye twitches.

You couldn't care less. Besides, you already have a new boyfriend, one that's nice to you, you tell him with a prideful spite in your voice. One that doesn't have fucking issues. You're not a therapist, you say, and you tell him to figure out his problems on his own, and you slam the door in his face.

Or, you try to. He catches the door before it can close with one hand. Grabs your arm with the other.

For once he doesn't say anything, not until you make him. Just grabs you, drags you down the street by your shirt. It nearly chokes you, but you manage to start to scream. He slams your back into the nearest building, grabs your shoulders and says to shut the fuck up or I'll break your fucking arms. You go wide eyed and scared tears run down you're face. You're scaring me, you plead. Let me go.

But he doesn't. You figure maybe you can talk sense into him when you get there. You don't realize how far gone he is, you don't think that this might be the last time you set foot outside, the last time you see the sun not through a window. You don't think any of the things you'll wish you had down the road.

You've had rough sex before. Not quite like this, though. You can't breathe. You kick and wheeze and cry and claw at the hand around your throat and desperately gasp for what little air you can get in. He only lets go when you black out, lets you take a few breaths, then does it again. You're still so tight. New boyfriend must not have measured up, huh. It's raw and dry and it hurts. You whimper and you cry and you finally apologize like you should have days ago.

And yet, most importantly, you cum. See? You love him. So say it. Say it already. Come on. You do, you stutter, it's quiet and scared, but he smiles nonetheless.

It's ok. He knows you're sorry. He knows you didn't mean those awful things you said. You would never actually abandon him. You're different. Different. Special. Not like everyone else. You won't leave. You won't just leave him somewhere and disappear, you won't die out of nowhere, you won't kick him aside and leave him alone, you're the only person who won't. Different. That's why he loves you so much. You would never do any of that.

You just need help. You're so emotional, you're really not emotionally stable. Controlled by your wildly changing emotions. They make you say things you don't mean. Do things you don't really intend to do. Things you'll just regret if he didn't intervene and help you.

They make you vulnerable to other people. You're so easily controlled. You believe what they want you to believe. And that's dangerous. That could lead you to try to leave again. That's why you have to be helped. Kept away from becoming victim to your own impulses. The only way to do that is keeping you locked away. You'll come to understand with time. Appreciate it. Thank him.

You'll appreciate it because you're different. You'll never leave. You would never leave him even if you had the opportunity.

But maybe it's for the best that you don't have that opportunity to begin with.

[whosjunglejim4322]

Warnings: SMUT, insecurities but mark just needs a lil reassurance abt how good he makes you feel, finger fucking/sucking, he cums in his pants, fluff bc yall r in love love <3

Mark knows he's being irrational about this whole ordeal. One conversation shouldn't be getting under his skin like it is, but this one thing seems to be knocking at the forefront of his brain, throwing him out of focus as of late.

So what, you masturbate. It's normal, he's not there all the time, of course you do. He does too, but he also becomes outrageously horny everytime he so much as thinks about your skin or the way you kiss him. And it's safe to say he thinks about you alot. Alot alot.

"It's different, though? I'm a guy, we jerk off an outrageous amount," he argues, furrowing his eyebrows as you stare up at his pacing form from the bed, grinning. He's cute when he's flustered.

"And girls just...aren't supposed to get horny without the help of a guy?" You inquire.

He stops pacing at this, slumping his shoulders. "that's not what I mean, I just-" he sighs, plopping himself next to you on the edge of the bed. He chews on the inside of his lip for a moment before shaking his head.

"Nevermind, I'm just tired." He runs his fingers through his disheveled hair, looking at you apologetically with his big doe eyes.

You're still amused, giggling as you reach over to cup his rosy hued cheeks, pulling him to your mouth for a kiss.

"A little toy could never replace you, my love."

You'd reassured him that night by wrapping your lips around his dick, and he was too lost in the belly aching anticipation and bliss of it all, to really pay attention to what it was you'd just said.

A little toy.

He hasn't stopped thinking about it. It's both slightly irritating, while also being the new source of his sexual frustration when he's supposed to be practicing. He thinks it may be more irritating than the ladder though, because as much as he hates to admit it, he is a jealous creature. 

It's silly, childish and he knows it. Maybe that's why he's so unsettled by this, because he knows that you love him. He knows you like his dick, from what you've expressed. But, maybe he's doing something wrong?

Maybe you just don't want to to wound his ego, and instead act like his dick is enough to satisfy you. Of course, he knows some sensations are better than others, but how often do you need to touch yourself? Does he not please you enough in the moments you two are together?

These questions still nag him when he walks into your apartment at around 7:35 pm, causing worry to crease between his brows.

You, of course, pick up on this when you round the corner from your bedroom to see him making his way towards you, lost in thought. Your arms snake around his middle and your lips place a kiss to his jaw. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

"What's got you all mopey?" You ask, searching for any signs of pain or discomfort in his eyes, only to be stumped by his undreadable expression. Maybe he's just had a long day?

He hums, broken from his self depricating reverie, evidently not realizing he's wearing his emotions so blatantly.

"Nothin' just tired, wanted to come home." He buries his face in the crook of your shoulder once you've pulled him into your room, his breath warm against your neck.

You must've just taken a shower, skin the scent of his favorite soap that always has him sniffing you randomly throughout the day. He squeezes you tighter.

You kiss the side of his head, reluctantly pulling yourself away only to grab his hands and move to the bed, not believing that there's nothing more than just fatigue that's got his usual goofy smile hidden behind such a frustrated countenance.

You crawl onto his lap once his back is against the headboard, his hands slipping underneath your shirt to rub your back, a habit when he's nervous. He knows what's coming, already avoiding your eyes.

"Are you gonna tell me what's wrong, Mark Lee? No excuses, this time." You mean business, but your voice is still as soft and comforting as ever. He can't resist looking up at you once you stroke his cheek with your thumb, featherlight.

With a drawn out breath, he reluctantly responds, knowing it'll only eat at him further if he doesn't.

"It's just....I feel like maybe I don't do enough for you...sexually? Like, I know everyone masturbates and It's totally fine you use a toy and stuff, I just feel like...like maybe It's better than...than what I can do? I know I'm not the most experienced but-"

He's stuttering, ears tomato red at the tips and he's a bit perplexed to see such a jubilant smile spreading across your face as he rubs the back of his neck, embarassed beyond belief.

"Mark..." you cup his soft, blazing cheeks in your palms, forcing him to meet your gaze as squeamish as he's suddenly become. "you're that upset over something like this?"

You don't sound judgemental nor teasing, despite the way you're grinning. But still, he wants to hide his face, wants to bow his head in shame. Suddenly he feels very foolish.

Not being able to stand seeing him so crestfallen, you reassure him, trurthfully. Your heart aches.

"Hey hey, look at me bub," wide doe eyes stare back at you, as you move some of his hair out from in front of his forehead where the strands have fallen. "you are more than enough, so good that when you're away I cant stand it. I have to touch myself, and I'm not just saying that."

His expression has regained some confidence, though you're not done yet. You've got this determination swirling in the pit of your belly, thrumming through your veins. You want him to know how truly incredible he really is, how good he really makes you feel.

"I think about your hands, your mouth, your dick. And you know what? By the end of it I'm not even satisfied, because that little toy isn't you. Do you understand? Hmm? Or do I have to show you?"

Suddenly his heartbeat is loud in his ears, adams apple bobbing as he swallows. He's hardened underneath you and you known that you've got him.

"I-I understand, now. But you could still show me, you know. If you want." His voice is a little unsteady but the corners of his soft, pink mouth twitch at the corners with an echo of a smile.

It's too much, Mark Lee absolutely will be the death of you. And so you kiss him, in a way that has his toes curling and his arms wrapping around your middle like a boa, refusing to let go.

Your fingers are tiwsted in his hair as you suck on his plush bottom lip, a gasp leaving his throat when your teeth nibble the sensitive skin. He can feel your hardened nipples through your sweater, pressing against his chest.

Your knees have tightened around the small of his waist as well, crotch rubbing against the strained bulge in his basketball shorts. You whine into his mouth.

"Mm, you should feel how wet you make me," his hands venture lower at this, until his warm fingertips are pressing into the flesh of your thighs. "go ahead Markie, touch me."

He groans, not being able to hold it back from his chest at the sound of your voice and your generous offer. His fingers, delicate and eager rub your pussy through your lounge shorts, and his jaw slacks a bit at your lack of underwear.

Your tongue slips against his, mouths parted and greedy while he slips his hand into the warmth of your shorts - and practically whines.

He wasn't expecting the abundance of your essence, the utter and complete lack of friction as his digits glide effortlessly through your silken folds. He takes his ring finger and presses the pad of it against your entrance, circling and listening to the lewd, slick sounds.

"Oh fuck," he croons free hand on your lower back and urging you against his touch. "you're s-so wet already, how are you so wet?" He's mystified, and completely fucked.

"I told you." You kiss him again, swallowing his reply and grinding your pussy against his palm. Without warning, he slips a finger in, and then another, falling apart at the way your walls so eagerly welcome them. He trembles.

"Mm, Mark." You're reaching down, underneath his arm and gripping his length, hot in your hand underneath the slinky material of his shorts. He twitches.

Suddenly his fingers are curling inside of you, and he begins to languidly pump them in and out of your sopping heat, on fire from his toes to the top of his head. You have to grip onto his shoulders, momentarily forgetting your previous endeavor of palming his dick.

He doesn't mind, not when you're whining like this, fingers digging into his skin, your body rocking against his while your walls hug and squeeze around his digits.

"Does it feel good?" He asks genuinley, but already knows the answer, too high off of this moment to not want his ego stroked. Your eyebrows are furrowed, lips kiss bitten, skin hot to the touch. You can barely make out an answer, and he swears all the blood in his body rushes straight to his dick.

"S-so good Markie - harder, please." You bury your face in the crook of his shoulder as tour thighs tremble around his narrow hips, lips trembling against his throat. He obliges you happily, anything to have you wilting against him like this. To hear more of the sounds you're making, for him.

Anyone outside the door would know whats going on, with the squelching of your wetness and the vigor in which he's fucking you with his fingers, heel of his palm nudging your clit with each thrust. You already feel that pit of pressure inside your belly expanding, so close to the brink of exploding.

He's fairing the same, if he's honest. You're rubbing up against the painful, throbbing boner in his bottoms, hidden behind only a thin layer of clothing. Your juices have leaked, leaving your own shorts wet at the crotch and the sight is erotic in a way that makes him buck up against you.

His free hand cups your face when he adds a third finger, pulling you from his shoulder to look at your face.

He damn near blows his load right then and there.

You look like you're on the verge of tears, not able to hold yourself up straight. A blush burns his skin, when you lean into his touch, fingers grasping at the front of his white tee.

"M'gonna cum soon Markie."

His heart threatens to explode from his chest when you turn your head and suck his thumb into your warm mouth, closing your eyes and bliss while his fingers pump into you, buried to the third knuckle.

This causes him to thrust into you with a sudden jolt, and the way his fingertips rub against the sweet spot deep inside of you, has the build up of pleasure finally spilling over like a broken dam.

The fingers on either of his hands are soaked now, one with your saliva and the other with your cum. You're gripping onto his wrists, letting him massage the inside of your walls while they contract around him, eyes rolled to the back of your head.

The sight, the feeling, is too much. You're a mess, a beautiful, sopping wet mess and without warning it's like a freight train is hitting him at full force, cock twitching willdy as pure bliss seeps through his pores.

You're still shivering, humping his hand while spurts of cum fill the inside of his shorts, dripping down the crease of his thigh and even soaking through the material a bit. Your eyes are barely able to open, but you will them to when you hear the almost imperceptible groan that strains from his throat when your heartbeat finally stops drumming so loudly in your ears.

Your belly lurches, skin tingly to the touch as he slumps against the headboard, peering up at you with more adoration than you can handle.

"I-I came in my pants." He breathes out, panting heavily alongside you. The thrill that runs down your spine like a tremor at the realization that he's cum, untouched, because of you, is what allows you to have half the mind to pull his fingers from your aching heat - replacing the others in your mouth.

His head lolls to the side, honey eyes trained on you like it’s impossible to look away while you suck your juices from his digits, humming around them. It's like he's staring up at the sun, mesmerized.

And then you're kissing him, and he's sure he's gone to heaven. He tastes you on the tip of your own tongue, and you're so sweet, so tender when you grasp his cheeks.

"I came in my pants too, by the way. Technically." You smile, and he chuckles warmly, giddy. His arms encapsulate you and he nudges the tip of your nose with his own.

The toy can have its fun, he thinks to himself. Because really, truly, nothing - and no one, will ever be as lucky and as enamored as he is with you.

[nationalharryleague]

One Day

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Genre: Drunk!Harry Fluff!

Word count: 2K

A/N: Hi all! This is some drunk boyfriend harry fluff that I just love sm. It’s based off of “One Day” by Catie Turner (I highly recommend listening to it!!) More of my writing can be found in my masterlist and I would love to hear what you think in my ask! Thank you so much for reading! 

***

Harry was the life of the party when he wanted to be. He knew how to let loose, with a tequila on the rocks in one hand and a beer in the other, ready to party until he (literally) dropped. He always ended up on some sort of elevated surface like a teenage girl, usually a kitchen island or an absurdly expensive coffee table, singing along to whatever music was playing, magically knowing every word to whatever came over the speakers. Sometimes he would get lost in the winding corridors of the massive mansions his friends lived in, taking a wrong turn in his enhibrated state and ending up somewhere he definitely wasn’t supposed to be. There was also one time he jumped off a (thankfully low) roof into the swimming pool below.

But usually, he was calm, cool, and collected; gently sipping on a single drink he would nurse for most of the night. The two of you liked to sit and watch during these parties, his hand settling securely on your waist, keeping you close to him and away from the chaos that unfolded before you. You would curl up on a couch somewhere and just watch it all play out like it was an observational study, often giving commentary and ranking people and their drunk dancing out of 10.

“I feel like we're the mean girls in the corner of the cafeteria who just sit and silently judge everyone around them,” you would giggle, nuzzling yourself further into his side.

“That’s because we are the mean girls in the corner judging everyone around them, sweetheart” he would reply, in a slightly buzzed drawl.

But tonight was not one of those nights. And Harry had ended up standing on top of the dining room table scream-singing ABBA at the top of his lungs.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his dramatic and messy performance. His limbs flailed freely as he wiggled his hips along to the beat of Dancing Queen, singing into a small statue of a naked woman he had picked up off an end table that you assumed to be very, very expensive, like it was a microphone. He wore a pair of high rise denim flares that swayed along with his movements to the music and his white “Women are Smarter'' shirt was now stuck to his body with sweat, just see through enough for his butterfly to make an appearance.

He only came down after a green malaise began to settle over his features, skin slightly clammy and a bit pale. You extended a hand, helping his loopy body down off the table and letting him settle into your side for support once he was on solid ground again. “Let’s head to the bathroom, H,” you said gently, trying to settle the panic that was beginning to crawl into his eyes. “I’ll take care of you.”

Once he got to the beautifully large and extravagant bathroom, he crawled into a small, or as small as the large man could make himself, ball and rested his hot clammy cheeks against the cool marble of the floor. “May have overdone it,” he grumbled from his spot on the floor, holding on for dear life as you were sure the room was spinning for him.

“Ya think?” you teased, immediately feeling a pang of guilt when you were met with a pathetically needy face from him in return. “Oh baby, it’s okay.” You carefully dug through the cabinets, knowing there had to be washcloths somewhere in the lavish room, and once you found one you dampened it with cold water. Settling down on the tile next to him, you pulled him and his sweaty curls on to your lap, wiping the layer of sweat delicately from his skin and then resting the cold cloth on his forehead.

You two stayed in this position for a while, carefully rubbing his back in an effort to sooth the large man and trying to ignore the loud music that was still shaking the house around you. He looked small like this, no longer your giant protector, but like a younger version of himself who just needed someone to take care of him. You were happy to be that person, as he always was for you.

This was the first time you had ever seen him like this. He always managed to know his limits, but tonight he just went off the deep end. He had been working like a dog, constantly in and out of the studio, frustrated that none of the songs he was writing were up to his astronomically high standards for himself. It wasn’t too shocking that he was trying to escape that stress.

Gradually, as he laid on the floor and you held him close, the color came back into his cheeks and he stopped holding onto your legs like the room was about to take flight. When you sat him up against the wall, he was still a bit wobbly, but no longer looked like he was about to unload his stomach contents all over the room.

“How are you feeling now, H?” you asked softly, scanning his face for discomfort or distress as you dabbed the washcloth over his skin.

“’m okay,” he hiccuped back, “jus’ needed a cuddle.” He got exceptionally British when he got this drunk, his accent coming out in a barely distinguishable garble of tall vowels and dropped consonants, his tongue heavy in his mouth.

His eyes fluttered open and closed without rhythm as he looked at you, his light green eyes glazed over with a glassy shine, and his mouth hung open slightly, like he didn’t have the coordination to close it. His pink cheeks were flushed and his skin had a sweaty sheen. His head had rolled off too one side and rested on his shoulder, like his neck had given up on holding his head up, and his arms fell heavy at his sides.

You should have been at least slightly annoyed with him for acting like a college kid, drinking until he made himself sick. His behavior and subsequent need for you to take care of him should have gotten under your skin and caused a bit of anger to bubble up into your chest. But it didn’t. You were just taking care of your man.

“Do you still feel nauseous?”

“‘m a-ok, babay” he said, making himself giggle with his rhyme. His lips lazily curled up into a smile and he dragged a lazy arm up to give the “OK” symbol with his uncoordinated fingers, before the heavy limb dropped back down to the tile beneath him.

“Okay, funny man,” you began sarcastically, planning on instructing to drink the glass of water you had retrieved on your way up to the bathroom, when he cut you off.

“I am pretty funny, aren’t I?” you rolled your eyes but couldn’t hold back the loud belly laugh that fell past your lips. He took the glass from you and began to sip, a proud smirk never leaving his lips as he looked at you.

“You were a comedian in a past life.”

“I agree.”

You two were quiet for a bit, Harry drinking something other than tequila for the first time the entire night, and you just admiring him in silence. You let your hand crawl into his, interlocking your fingers together before bringing it up to your lips and pressing small kisses to each of his knuckles. It wasn’t long before his glass of water was finished and he crawled back into your arms, his back pressing to your chest with your arms wrapped securely around his shoulders. Your fingers ran through his still damp curls, initially just to push them up and away from his forehead and eyes, but continued when you heard the little happy mewls coming from him.

“Ya take such good care of me,” he said sloppily with a gentle tone, breaking through the bubble of silence you two had created together.

“I always will.” You pressed a gentle kiss to his salty forehead and settled back onto the hard wall behind you.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You hadn’t been together for long, with saying the “L” word still being pretty new, and still slightly foreign, to both of you. But you meant it when you said it, you loved him, and your body always filled with a blushing warmth when he said he loved you too.

You had met through work when you interviewed him for the magazine you worked at. From the moment you saw those dimples in real life, you were weak in the knees and enamored with him. You hadn’t been trying to flirt, it just happened. And before he left the office, you had a date planned for that Friday. That was 6 months ago now and they had been some of the happiest of your life.

“Will you marry me?”

The question left his lips in his absurdly difficult to understand drawl and it took you a moment to process what he said, but when you did your heart stopped.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to marry him, because you did, but not now.

It was too soon. There was still too much for you to do together, too much still to learn about him, and too much for him to learn about you. You hadn’t even had a serious fight yet; you didn’t know how he dealt with conflict or how you would react to it. You didn’t live together; you didn’t know how your living habits would match up or if they would drive each other insane. You didn’t know how you would deal with him touring being away for so long.

There was just too much you didn't know.

“I will someday.” You spoke gently, trying hard not to hurt his currently fragile feelings. You were now holding his face tenderly, like if you held him steady and close, you could lessen the blow.

“So, no?” he looked up at you with his big puppy dog eyes, feeling guilt punch you in the gut.

“For now. Everything is just going so well right now, we don’t have to mess with it.”

“Jus’ wanna be with you forever,” he said softly and your heart began to melt. He was such a soft person, who felt everything so deeply and with so much emotion. He was a sap, and you loved him for it. You pulled him closer to your chest, pressing soft kisses to his temple.

“And you will be,” you breathed. “Forever will still be there down the line.”

“Why not now?” His lips held an adorable pout and you couldn’t stop yourself from pressing a kiss to them. He tasted awful, like tequila and sweat, but the kiss was loving and sweet as you tried to pour all your love for him into it.

“Because we still have to grow,” you watched the end of his mouth tick up, sure to make some sort of smartass comment about you both being grown already. “We have to grow together,” you finished.

“I guess so,” he mused softly.

“I promise that I will say ‘yes’ when we are ready someday.”

“Someday,” he repeated softly, feeling the words on his own lips. “I’m going to keep asking, ya know?” he smirked up at you, his smile and joking tone signalling that you hadn’t broken his heart, just bruised his ego a bit.

“That’s perfectly okay,” you sighed, a contagious smile finding its way to your own lips. “I’m going to keep saying ‘no’ until we’re ready, ya know?” you teased, using his own words against him.

“One day, I’ll make an honest woman outta ya when you let me.”

“One day.”

Thank you reading!! Reblogs/feedback mean the world!! 

[flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash]

Irresistible Danger - Part 57

Synopsis:  After being caught outside the compound on your own, Negan decides to punish you in the best way possible ;)

Words: 3,388

Warnings: nsfw, smut, swearing

ID Masterlist can be found HERE

Masterlist of all my fics can be found HERE 

Author’s Note: We’re interrupting the emotions and angst for a healthy dose of smut in this one. 

A Wonderfully Well-F*cked Morning

You drifted to consciousness on a wave of pleasure, the sensations happening below your waist causing you to automatically arch your back and reach down. When your fingers came in contact with thick, soft hair at the same time that a wet tongue hit your clit, your brain finally decided to come online. Eyes opening in surprise, you looked down and found the breathtaking visual of Negan’s gorgeous face buried between your thighs.

Holy shit, what a way to start the day. 

Glancing up, his mouth curled in a soul-stealing grin at the sight of you awake and watching. His “mornin’ doll” was spoken directly to your soaked cunt, the rumbled vibration of the words making you give a small moan and open your thighs wider, so he could do as he wished.

And, apparently, what he wished was to drive you absolutely mad with desire. The distant and withdrawn Negan of last night was gone, and in his place was the playful and passionate man before you. He teased with soft kisses along the crease at the top of your thigh and lazy laps of his tongue that just barely grazed where you needed them. When you tried to lift your hips in search of more friction, his large hands pinned them to the mattress. 

It wasn’t long before you had a deathgrip on his hair, thighs trembling, and even the muscles in your stomach starting to quiver. And yet still he continued, the devilish gleam in his eyes when he glanced up at you while gently sucking your clit almost enough to send you over the edge, until he backed off and went back to nipping at your inner thighs instead. 

You were just about to beg, plead, and promise whatever he wanted, including your soul, when a muffled knocking sound broke through the top layer of hazy desire shrouding you. Negan ignored the noise, continuing with his delicious torture so that you almost instantly forgot the sound had ever happened. But then it came again a few seconds later, this time loud and sharp...and right outside the bedroom door. 

Letting go of his hair and jolting up onto your elbows, you looked down at Negan with wide eyes. He had finally lifted his head from your pussy, the sight of his lips glistening with your wetness causing a soft moan to escape that you prayed whoever was at the door didn’t hear. 

“Fucking leave!” he yelled in that no-nonsense tone that both terrified and yet also made an extra trickle of wetness run down your thigh. 

The voice that responded was muffled through the door, but still unmistakably Simon. “Sorry, boss, but there’s a situation that needs your urgent attention in meeting room C.” 

Cursing harshly, Negan dropped his forehead to your lower stomach for a few seconds before lifting his head and yelling back, “I’ll fucking be there in 5!”

You stared in the direction of the office and listened for a few seconds until the unmistakable sound of Simon banging the door closed sounded (perhaps a bit louder than needed, as if he was letting you know that he was gone). You turned back to Negan, who now had a devious smirk on his face as he looked up at you.

Giving a doubtful expression, you said, “Only five minutes?” 

“Oh, doll,” he chuckled, head ducking down so the rest was muffled against your wet flesh. “That’s plenty of time.”

It was then that you realized just how much he had been toying with you before, as his demeanor instantly changed from playful to intense, and he set to work on your cunt. He knew just where to nip and lick, and when he latched onto your clit and sucked with the perfect amount of pressure, you shot off like a rocket, coming in less than a minute from when Simon had left. 

Still panting and sprawled across the mattress, you watched dazedly as he got up and went to his armoire for clothes to get dressed. He winced when tucking his erection into the boxer briefs and dark grey pants, and the bulge made your mouth water.

“What about you?” you asked with a nod in his cock’s direction. 

Pulling on his boots, he then straightened and trailed desire-bright eyes over your sated form spread out on his bed. “I thought I already made that clear, doll,” he quipped.

Unsure if it was the post-orgasm haze making you so dense or if he was purposely being vague, you asked, “What’s that?”

Walking around the side of the bed fully dressed, while you lay totally naked with thighs still spread and naked chest heaving, he ran a warm, calloused hand down over your throat and the tips of your breasts before answering. 

“That this relationship is about more than me getting my fucking rocks off.”

His hand moved lower, between your thighs, and he watched as if mesmerized at how you shuddered and arched into the feel of his touch on your still-sensitive flesh. “However, that being said-” he backed up a step and pointed at you with a stern look on his face, “-don’t fucking move from that bed until I get back.” 

He then tucked his tongue into his cheek, gave a playful wink, and was gone. Staring up at the ceiling, you figured this was one order you’d gladly follow, seeing as how your muscles wouldn’t be able to function properly enough to help you stand, anyways. It wasn’t until a couple minutes after he was gone that you sat straight up on the bed at the remembrance of his earlier words. 

He had called it a relationship!

~  ~  ~  ~  ~

Forty-five minutes later and you, unsurprisingly, were in fact not able to follow his order, after all. Which shouldn’t be a surprise because, well, it was you we were talking about here, and when did you ever listen? 

You had tried though, really you had. After Negan left, and your breathing and heart rate had returned to normal, you sat up against the headboard to wait. Your eyes landed on a book that was open facedown on his bedside table, and the parallel to your own reading habits made you smile. Picking it up, you saw that it was some sort of psychological thriller. Making a note of what page it had been opened to, you huddled down into the plush mattress, the soft black headboard at your back, and started reading from the beginning. 

However, when the black and grey wall clock near the door ticked by almost an hour that he had been gone, you put the book down and sighed in annoyance. Whatever the emergency meeting had been about, it looked as though it might take a while, and you didn’t enjoy the thought of sitting here all morning and afternoon waiting, as if at his beck and call. Your brain also unhelpfully threw out the reminder of your previous plan not to have sex with Negan until a serious conversation was had about that damned padlocked box of unanswered questions. The subconscious, exasperated with the brain pulling this bullshit so early in the morning, yelled at it to please shut the hell up. 

Fuck it, you can at least freshen up a bit before he gets back, you thought while tossing off the sheet and standing from the bed. Stretching pleasantly sore muscles, you wandered over to the large armoire and tugged open one of the drawers. Smiling at how neatly the clothes inside were folded, you selected a moss green shirt and pulled it over your head. It was much baggier than his usual style, and you had never seen him wear it before, making you wonder if he ever got a chance to take off his leader armor and just sit around relaxing the day away in baggy sweats with a good book. Probably not, seeing as how he couldn’t even enjoy a perfectly delightful you-flavored breakfast without being interrupted. 

Heading into the bathroom to relieve your bladder and then wash your hands and face, you looked in the large mirror. Finger-combing hair that had seen better days, you then opened up some of the drawers under the sink that you hadn’t checked yet, mostly out of nosey curiosity. Finding one at the bottom that was stocked full of extra bars of soap, toothpaste, and still-packaged toothbrushes, you let out a tiny whoop of joy. Jackpot!

Opening a green and white toothbrush, you grabbed the already opened toothpaste that was on the countertop and squeezed a dollop onto the brush. Giving a sigh of happiness at the clean, minty taste, you weren’t even worried about Negan being upset you had stolen one of his unopened brushes. Especially since you’d have fresh breath when he crawled back in the bed with you and-

That fantasy died a quick death when the reflection of the man himself stepped into view while you were mid-brush. Locking eyes with him in the mirror, you saw a flicker of something in his expression as he took you in, standing there in his shirt and brushing your teeth with his personal supplies. 

“I thought I told you to be in the fucking bed when I got back,” he said, but his voice didn’t have the extra little growl that signified he was truly pissed. In fact, he almost sounded amused. 

Before you could even remove the toothbrush to respond, he stepped up behind you so that his front was pressed into your back. “Nevermind, doll,” he drawled while still holding your gaze in the mirror. “This’ll work too.”

You almost choked on toothpaste from gasping at the feel of his large, rough hands running up under the hem of the shirt and over your bare hips. Quickly leaning down to spit out the paste into the sink, you turned on the water and used a cupped hand to rinse out your mouth as he continued rubbing his palms along your torso and down over the outside of your thighs. When you put the toothbrush down and straightened, his mouth immediately attacked the back of your neck, sucking and nipping lightly. His hands moved further up under the shirt to cup your breasts, and his deft fingers pinched and twisted sensitive nipples at the same time that he ground his hips against your bare ass, letting you feel the ridge of his erection through the rough fabric of the pants.

You moaned softly and pressed back into him, almost overwhelmed by how quickly he had barged in and taken control of your body’s reaction. Any thoughts of self-doubt or questions of where you stood with him temporarily flew out the window in the face of the onslaught of intense and thorough possession he was directing your way. 

Unlike when you first woke up this morning, no part of him was teasing or going slow this time around. He quickly pulled the baggy shirt up over your head, and the sight of you totally bare made a groan punch from his chest. 

He whipped his own shirt and pants off in a quick flurry of movement before leaning in so that his warm chest was pressed into your back as he opened one of the drawers at your hip and pulled out a condom. 

Wasting no time, he opened it and rolled it down the swollen cock pressing into the small of your back. When he bent his knees to line up with your entrance, you assisted by hiking a knee up on the edge of the countertop, presenting yourself to him in a way that made him pause for a moment, as if in awe, before plunging inside you with a fierce thrust and strangled growl against the back of your neck. 

You looked up and were instantly transfixed by the sight in the mirror. Negan’s tattooed, leanly muscled form towered over yours, his rough edges and possessive thrusts juxtaposed against your softer curves and arching form. 

You watched his reflection as he gripped your hips and looked down between your bodies to watch himself fuck you, the sight making you moan and clench around his cock. His gaze lifted, amber eyes locking on yours in the mirror. 

One of his hands left your hip, trailing hungrily around the front of your body and up over your stomach and breasts before wrapping long fingers around the front of your throat. The grip was light, but the ruthless ownership behind both it and his pumping hips made your eyes flutter closed in ecstasy. 

He leaned in over you, breath coming in hot strikes against the side of your throat. “You like this, don’t you, pretty girl? Like being all. Fucking. Mine.”

The last words were each punctuated by a harsh thrust, making you cry out and open lust-filled eyes. His face was there beside your own, jaw clenched as he watched your reflection in the mirror with a fierce, almost pained expression. He let out a little snarl before turning his mouth to nip at the curve of your shoulder, and that combined with his grip at your throat and heavy, thick cock fucking you against the counter all combined to throw you into an orgasm without warning. He groaned as you shuddered and clenched in his hold, his gravel over sandpaper voice in your ear. 

“Yes, milk my fucking cock.”

Coming down off the wave of pleasure, you realized that his pace hadn’t slowed down, that he hadn’t finished yet. You lowered the leg propped up on the counter, needing both feet braced against the cool, tiled floor to keep your shaky body steady. 

Your gaze dropped, taking in the reflection of what was happening between your thighs. Both his cock and the inside of your thighs glistened with a coating of your release, and he felt even bigger inside of you, now that your walls were a little swollen and tender from both the friction of his cock and your recent orgasm. Right when his movements became almost too overwhelming against your oversensitized cunt, and you were about to ask for a break, he paused his thrusts and removed the hand from around your throat. 

Your thought that he was granting you a reprieve was instantly proven wrong when he gave a growled warning of, “Brace your arms on the sink,” right before his forearms hooked down under both your knees and lifted your entire lower body off the ground. Since the action pushed you forward, your body had no choice but to do as he said, forearms holding the weight of your upper body against the surface of the sink while your lower half hung suspended at the perfect height for his cock. 

He resumed his quick pace, fucking into you relentlessly. And, surprisingly, instead of becoming too much, the sensations pulled back from borderline painful and started to feel pleasurable again. Very pleasurable. 

Your whimper caused him to give a low moan in response, and his voice came through gritted teeth. “That’s it, doll. Fucking come for me again.” 

Trying to find your voice, you wanted to say that you weren’t sure if that was possible, that coming again so soon wasn’t likely. Instead, the words choked in your throat when he bent down and licked up your spine before sucking roughly on the skin of your back. He then ground his cock into you so hard that your pelvis pushed against the edge of the counter, the hard surface rubbing over your clit in exactly the right way needed to send your body spasming into a second orgasm.

You lost yourself in pleasure that had no beginning and no end, just endless heavy waves of bliss. Dimly, you heard him give a groan of completion as he gave a few sharp, hard thrusts, and then his body went still. He allowed your legs to lower to the tiled floor, and thank god for being braced on the countertop, otherwise you would’ve crumpled in a quivery heap at his feet. 

You took in the reflection of both you and Negan’s sex-dazed expressions, skin flushed and dewy with sweat despite the cool bathroom. A satisfied smile curved his lips, and you watched in the mirror as he bent down and kissed the curve where your neck met shoulder, the scratch of his beard rising goosebumps to the already sensitive flesh. He hummed happily against your skin, and you wished that the two of you could stay in this intimate bubble forever. That no outside intruders or internal thoughts could stand in the way of feeling like this with him every single day. 

As if he were thinking something similar, he ran a warm hand down over the curve of your hip and said in a sexy, husky voice, “Now that is a perfect fucking way to finish off the morning.” 

Unable to help a dreamy smile in return, you were finally able to fully stand up from the counter without fear of your legs giving out. Turning in his hold, you twined arms up around his neck and tugged him down for a proper kiss involving lips and tongues and even a hint of teeth. 

You pulled away after a few long moments, and offered, “What are your plans for today?”

Biting his lip and giving one of his signature cheeky grins, he replied, “I have to go over some new outpost security measures with Simon this afternoon. However…” his hands cupped your ass and kneaded possessively, “my evening is all fucking yours.”

Lord, but you liked the sound of that. Standing on tiptoe and placing another, softer kiss to his lips, you suggested, “How about I bring us dinner around 7:30?”

“I’ll be waiting,” he replied with one last squeeze of his hands before he stepped away to dispose of the condom and gather both your clothes off the tiles. 

The men had brought back some freshly butchered deer meat from the supply run, and Ben had been excited to try making stew with both it and vegetables from the garden. Thinking of Ben was also a reminder that you had promised to hang out with him today. You were very curious to hear details about what was going on with him and Simon, not to mention needing a friend to talk through some of your own worries regarding Negan.

Pulling the baggy green shirt back on, you preceded him into the bedroom and grabbed your jeans from where they had been discarded on the floor last night. You didn’t want to return his shirt, so tucked it into the jeans to hide the obviously ill-fitting length of it before pulling on your sneakers. Turning, you found an also fully-dressed Negan watching you. His gaze took in the outfit with an expression that was difficult to decipher, but seemed somewhere between appreciative and smug at the sight of you in his shirt. 

Struggling not to roll your eyes or make a comment about “males and their strange possessiveness”, you walked out of the bedroom with him following behind. Stopping at the closed office door, you turned and looked up at him, unable to resist the urge to reach up and run your fingers down over his bearded cheek. He bent and gave you one final kiss in return, then opened the door and watched you leave. 

You weren’t able to contain the happy grin tipping up the corners of your mouth. Not even the sudden appearance of the brain, who was dragging the padlocked box of questions, could dim your mood. The subconscious strode happily at your side, but as the brain fell more and more behind, struggling to keep up with the heavy metal box, it turned with a sigh and went back to help. 

I know. I know! We’ll have a conversation with him tonight; open up the box and air out some of those unanswered questions. But for right now, we’re going to bask in the afterglow of such a wonderfully well-fucked morning. 

The brain and subconscious didn’t argue, just huffed and puffed as they worked together to finally pick the box up off the ground. Balancing the heavy weight between them, they gave each other exasperated looks, then hurried down the hall after you.

~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~

[hes-writer]

All Too Well

Summary: right person, wrong time

Warning: sweet fluff and angst

Word Count: 4519 words

A/N: listen to ‘All Too Well’ by Taylor Swift first as there are some references throughout the fic. I also added time stamps as this occurs over the course of one year. I’m sorry if it’s confused—I tried my best to make it as coherent as possible ❤️

also, covid doesn’t exist in this au!

‘~~~’ = flashback, ‘—‘ = cut scene

November 2020

Y/N scrambled through the many articles of clothing sprawled in her drawer. The fabrics mingling with each other into a giant mess. It didn’t even include the pile of clothes sitting on the mattress and dripping on the floor.

That was the thing with Y/N. She had a habit of keeping things she didn’t need. She wasn’t a hoarder—although, Y/N did keep more things in favour of their sentimental value. It was her thing.

The fact that she could cradle a t-shirt in her palms and tell someone exactly what happened on a day that moulded the story of that specific shirt was her skill. Y/N liked to think that you could tell a lot about a person on what kind of clothes they wore—whether they were seeking affection or isolating, but not lonely.

In fact, her clothes didn’t just hold meaning for herself—it catered pieces of places she went to wearing the outfit. The things she thought of while adorning it, the emotions that she felt as it covered or—barely—shielded her skin. It was especially important to her to remember the people she spent it with.

Like that oversized, knee-length coat hung near the back of her closet. Y/N barely wore it now but seeing it beneath the splayed doors of the wardrobe, she could see flashes in her head about the last time she had worn it.

The way the pea coat flowed behind her as she twirled in a gentle circle, twisting the fabric slightly and catching tiny drops of littered snow. Y/N could picture the bulbous hat she wore on her head. A tiny pompom weighing every which way with the direction of her head. Her hands were in warm mittens that rendered her fingerless. The snow boots on her feet were crunching with every step of the crisp white snow beneath her feet.

It was truly a winter wonderland when the white weather sprinkled down on her—on them.

Y/N could just about feel the same large grin replicating her face when she snapped out her memory. The ghost of the hung overcoat literally hunted her as it rested in the shadows of her closet.

Y/N blinked twice, slouching her shoulders as she stayed frozen on her knees. The carpet wasn’t doing much to protect her taut skin, but she was in search of something and intended to find it. Except, she couldn’t find it anywhere.

She was sure that there was absolutely no way that she could lose it. It was a loud patterned scarf that frayed at the edges. It was, quite possibly, the ugliest design Y/N had laid her eyes upon. Though, a certain someone had reassured her that she looked beautiful regardless. Besides, the air was way too chilly to think about fashion choices that day.

~~~

December 2019

“Why don’t you pose for me, love?” Harry suggested, holding his phone tightly in one hand. That same hand was pulled free of the warm confines of his leather gloves as he insisted on capturing a few photos of his girl.

“You got it, mister,” Y/N replied, bending down to ball a glob of snow in her mitten-covered hand. She could just barely feel the iciness radiating off the protective layer. “Mind if I add some props?”

She lifted her hand, a raised brow quirking up her knit beanie.

Harry chuckles, “Go right ahead,”

He tilted his phone, ignoring the way his fingers lost feeling at the fingertips in favour of watching the woman of his dreams throw the patch of snow in the air. He captured the picture, admiring the way her back looked. Y/N really was beautiful from all angles. It was kind of counterintuitive, really, since it was snowing after all. But Harry was way too enamoured to question the questionable actions of his lover.

Besides, the gleaming smile on her face was enough to wipe his mind clean of anything other than her.

“Great! Why don’t you turn around?”

The woman looked over her shoulder was a subtle roll of her eyes, “No way,”

“C’mon, love. ‘S not even tha’ ugly,” Harry urged, commenting about the scarf wrapped around her neck.

She scoffed, “The fact that you have to reassure me is proof that it is ugly,”

Y/N played with the thin ends of the fabric, smiling to herself as she heard Harry groan loudly behind her. They were staying at Gemma’s house for the holidays and Y/N had purchased the first scarf she had seen at the store. She had nearly forgotten it if it weren’t for Harry calling her the night before to ensure that she would be warm during their stay. Not only was it cold, but the chilliness was just a tad too crisp to leave the cozy home without some sort of neck protection.

So, here she was dressed all cute from head-to-toe except her shoulders. It was a bit stupid to care so much about an ugly scarf design but Y/N guessed it had something to do with wanting everything to be perfect.

“I don’t think it’s ugly,” Harry quipped, sounding much closer than he had before. “‘Think it’s really nice. Especially the cutie who’s wearing it. Mind if I borrow it some time?”

Y/N couldn’t help the appearance of her love-struck eyes, smiling again when she felt his bundled arms snaked around her waist. Harry was warm, as usual, and he was sturdy as a rock both literally and metaphorically. Standing still in the snow gave her a bit of a shiver but having Harry’s body close was a breath of relief.

He cradled her between his arms, resting his own scarf-covered chin on her shoulder. Y/N knew that he must’ve been bending at the knees to reach that height. She clutched his naked hand between her mittens, directing it to a pocket in the confines of her coat to keep warm.

“Are you talking about me or the scarf?”

“How about both? Make it a two-for-one deal, yeah?” Harry’s voice was a bit hazy.

He felt as though he was captivated in a trance, watching the snowflakes rest gently on the slope of Y/N’s lashes. Her eyes glancing at their joined, mittened and gloved, hands.

She sighed, “Why not?”

Harry gave a silent cheer, leaning little ways into peck her cold cheek with his lips.

“Alright, now why don’t ya’ twirl for me, Y/N?” He instructed, taking cautious steps back in the snow.

“Like this?”

Harry nodded, thumbing the red button on his phone to press ‘record’. He watched as Y/N gracefully spun in a circle. Her pea coat flailed just at knee-level. Her boots squelched the starch white snow.

She did a full 360 before fully facing him with a bright grin. Harry couldn’t be sure how much his heart could take. He switched the setting to capture a photo.

“Exactly like that,”

He wanted to remember this.

~~~

Upon realization that Y/N would not get hold of that specific scarf—at least not for a while—because it was at Gemma’s home miles away from her, Y/N forced herself to clean up the mess she had made. Maybe it was the sudden strike of sensitivity coursing through her but Y/N felt much more emotional than she did before.

Perhaps it was the match-strike ignition of burning memories that flickered through her brain because once she started; she couldn’t stop.

It started with the frosty memory of twirling in the deep snow. Then, it was the flashback of driving from the grocery store to pick up ingredients before heading back to Gemma’s.

Y/N couldn’t deny the butterflies she felt playing that particular memory back because it was one of the moments that cemented a deep-rooted emotion in her.

The feeling of being beautiful—captivating, charming and alluring that Harry failed to notice the red traffic light switching to a reflective green. (‘Oi! Eyes on the road’)

She could still see the blush on his pale skin, realizing that he had been caught staring. And, by the way, the car behind them honked when Harry failed to move through the intersection. (‘Sorry, got distracted’).

And Y/N didn’t want to say anything but she could feel his tiny glances over her when Harry thought that she wasn’t paying attention.

———

November 2020

It has been nearly a year now.

Only a few more weeks until the dreaded date looped around to a full year passing. This time, Harry wasn’t around to celebrate the festivities with her and that ugly scarf was an article that Y/N had desperately missed. Ironically.

It would be just under a year when Harry had taken Y/N to his childhood home—now Gemma’s house as Anne had moved to a smaller place. It was where he excitedly showed her his room—the posters on his walls. The comics he used to read and the CD’s he used to listen to piled on his desk.

~~~

December 2019

“Quite an improvement,” Y/N commented, sitting on the edge of his twin-sized bed. She was referring to his King-sized bed from when she had slept over a couple of times.

“I’d say,” Harry agreed. The wood creaked under his weight as he sat beside her.

They both stared at the wall in front of them, feeling a sense of intimacy as Harry shared the remnants of his life to her.

The day continued when Anne had called the both of them down for hot cocoa, paired with a striped red, green and white candy cane dipped in the mug.

This was the part that hurt Y/N the most. It was almost too painful to remember—to reminisce because it was proof that the couple were so close to making a future together.

It didn’t happen, though.

Despite Anne and Gemma’s stories about a once upon a time, dorky Harry in his glasses (‘He still is’)—his family couldn’t stop referencing Y/N as his future.

“Hope your kids don’t take after his naked habit”

“Maybe your garden will have wild roses”

“Reckon you guys will get a small home?”

It made Y/N’s cheeks heat up. His family already thought of her as part of their family. And one sneaky look at Harry ensured her that Anne and Gemma weren’t the only ones thinking of their future because Harry caught her gaze long enough to give her the answer she was subconsciously searching for.

And when salutations had to be said, Harry and Y/N said goodbye to Gemma and Anne as they were to return to their respective London homes.

It was also the day that Harry had asked Y/N to move in with him.

——

It was exciting, to say the least. Moving in with your significant other was a big step in any relationship. The fact that Harry was a world-renowned superstar almost disappeared from Y/N’s mind because even though his home was a million times larger than her tiny flat—it immediately felt like home.

Harry wasn’t one to dwell too much on changes. In fact, he often referred to it as a sign that things were moving forward. There was no use being stuck in the same place when the universe had so much to offer. So, he was quite glad when Y/N made herself comfortable in his—their—home.

She managed to make the large place feel cozy. The decorations and tiny trinkets she had placed all over the house were really just pieces of her heart sprinkled in a home in which they’d build a life together. He would look at a pastel-coloured tea kettle and question when he had gotten the appliance before realizing that it was Y/N’s. Harry would use the tea kettle to boil water instead of using his Keurig.

___

Their schedules wouldn’t always line up. But Harry and Y/N were too loved-up to care how little time they spent with each other. There was no use in complaining when they could use that time to appreciate each other—for sticking around. For being the same when things moved too fast. For being the rock that both of them needed when times get rough.

Harry’s late studio sessions ran through the early morning when Y/N would be cooped up in their shared bedroom. Fast asleep and hugging his scented pillow. Sometimes he would find her bundled with a blanket on the living room couch. The soft glow of the television highlighting Y/N’s beautiful features. One look at her was enough to release Harry of the tension he felt on his joints and shoulders.

Y/N’s night shifts were the same too. She would return to a quiet house because Harry had fallen asleep. Despite his attempts to stay awake, he was not a night owl at all. Not only to stay up past ten in the evening unless he was out to do work. She had reassured him countless times that she would be okay on the drive home and that he should sleep when his body grew tired.

Harry tried to stay awake. He really did. And Y/N could tell because as soon as she crawls to her side of the bed, Harry’s right arm immediately pats the cold sheets for her as if sensing that she was nearby. He would mumble a quiet murmur of her name, “Y/N? Tha’ you?”

He would receive no verbal response, nor would Harry be able to see his love in the dark of the night even because Y/N hadn’t bothered to switch her bedside lamp on. Y/N was aware of Harry’s sensitivity to light, especially if he was in the dark for a long period of time. Despite that, Harry would hum in satisfaction when Y/N’s body would etch perfectly against his in a silent greeting that yes it is her.

They would fall fast asleep cuddled into one another.

If they managed to stay awake or if sleep failed to come, Y/N and Harry would trudge down the stairs for a midnight snack, squealing loudly as one playfully chased the other down the staircase.

Sometimes it was Y/N walking in on Harry munching on a few biscuits (‘Not such a health nut anymore, huh?’). Sometimes it was Harry catching Y/N making a fruit salad—an array of fruits and vegetables laying on the counter (‘I take credit for this’, he would say.)

But it would always end the same.

With both of them dancing goofily with each other. The refrigerator light was the only source of illumination because neither would be bothered to turn on an actual light. Not when the fridge served as a light source and a container of a variety of edible choices.

One night would end with Y/N slow dancing in Harry’s arms. His hands-on her waist, grazing her skin when her pyjamas too lifted. Their bodies would rest against each other like a stacked jigsaw. Harry’s chin on her head, hers on his broad shoulder. A pair of their hands clasped tightly on one another while the other found purchase with their bodies.

Harry would hum a light tune or sing softly so that they can find their rhythm. They would sway across the kitchen—slowly—crying out in pain and laughter when one would bump their hip on the marble counter. Y/N would listen to his heartbeat thrumming beneath his chest and even though she could only see a bit of him—it was enough.

One night would end with Y/N and Harry goofily flailing their limbs every which way. Boisterous laughter filling the room as Harry practically wheezed at Y/N’s admittance of performing a mean Dougie.

And with the fridge light catching the bits of it, Harry would slap his palm on the counter to catch himself before his knees gave out below him (‘There’s jus’ no way you’re that good’). She proved him wrong.

Neither of them knew when it would be the last time these moments occurred. Until they stopped completely.

——

It was the small changes that brought them closer together. And what would inevitably drive them apart.

It was the fact that even though the couple didn’t see each other much, they still cherished the time they had together because that was enough.

The relationship was built off of mutual trust, respect and honesty. Time was essential but Harry and Y/N didn’t necessarily need a lot of it. They just needed the reassurance of ‘always’. That no matter what happens, however far away they were from each other physically, however, the time they spent apart—that Harry would always come back to her and Y/N would always run home to him.

——

It was late-August when they broke up.

Leading up to it, Y/N had been promoted at her workplace and Harry was no longer spending late nights at the studio. He was sleeping in the studio instead of coming home.

Y/N was understanding. He was on a time-crunch since his second album was due to be released at the end of that year. She wanted to be as supportive as she had always been—if not, more. Harry didn’t need more pressure from her—his partner—who was supposed to be his solid ground in a cracking centre.

It was okay. It was okay. It was okay.

It was fine that they were spending less time than they normally would—not that it was a lot in the first place.

He was still trying. She was still trying. Messages, video calls—hell, even emails were there. The rare times when their schedule would actually coincide were spent peacefully sleeping on the bed. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

Then, Y/N got promoted. More responsibilities. Training her colleagues. Interviewing assistants. Typing detailed emails. Double-checking spreadsheets.

At the same time that Harry was being pulled left and right to make decision after decision. Finalizing next year’s tour dates. Promos. TV shows. Modelling campaigns. Photoshoots. Interviews.

And like any other, answering later turned into a message left on ‘read’. A missed call manifested into an unopened voicemail. A desperate-measures email was only one of the many in each others’ inbox.

Harry wanted Y/N to come with him on tour the following year but it was a stretch waiting to be snapped.

She couldn’t.

Y/N was starting to build her life, building her career and she wasn’t going to give that up for him just yet. He could go on tour and she could visit when time allows. They knew that. Harry would buy her a ticket and she would be off to see him—when she can.

~~~~

June 2020

“I can’t go. You know that,” Y/N sighed, rubbing a palm over her face.

Harry leaned his shoulder against the doorframe of the bathroom. “I knew that. ‘Was worth a try though,”

They shared a comforting smile with each other. A hint of reassurance when uneasiness prevailed. There was something about the shift from spring to summer that simmered in their chests.

“Promise you’ll come to visit?”

“Of course,”

~~~

London may be Harry and Y/N’s home but LA was calling for him. Hence, why he spent the summer on the other side of the world. On another continent, across the pond, as some people might say.

It’s just a few months. He’ll be back before you know it, Y/N thought.

Harry will be home for the holidays and they would drive up north to spend it with Anne and Gemma as they did the previous year. The year when Y/N had met them for the first time and despite that, attained their approval to build a future with Harry.

Just a few months and then Harry will be back with her. The same Harry who will gently loop an ugly scarf around her neck. Teasing her about its hideousness before reassuring her that it was ‘as stunning as the woman wearing it’. . .or something. Harry always complimented her.

Yet, Harry never came home a few weeks shy before their scheduled road trip as they had planned. And Y/N did not visit him like she had promised to do.

Though, none of them blamed the other because they were too busy with their own lives to keep up with each other. What once was a loving and caring relationship was not a liability pushed to the back burner.

One might say that Harry and Y/N’s love was a case of wrong timing. They were perfect for each other—but just not now.

Because Y/N had a lot of things going for her and expanding her career. Harry was becoming more and more popular and successful by the minute. It wasn’t like they meant to ignore each other or be oblivious that they were still very much in a relationship with each other. Both Harry and Y/N just had a lot on their plate to even think twice about a relationship.

It wasn’t anybody’s fault—really. Even though their phone call says otherwise.

——-

August 2020

“Y-you what? Y/N, love,” Harry spoke through the phone.

Y/N’s breath hitched at the sound of the beloved nickname. It had been a while since she had heard it.

“I want to break up,” She repeated.

“Why?”

The woman picked at her fingernails, distracting herself from going back to the spreadsheet in front of her. She was in the middle of a break up yet her body urged to continue working.

“What do you mean why?” Y/N sighed exasperatedly. “It’s been months since we’ve seen each other, Harry. You said you’ll be home before Christmas so we can see Anne and Gemma but—,”

“We don’t have to see them! Y’can fly out here and spend it with me,”

“You know, I can’t,”

Upon letting those slip past her lips, Y/N was starting to question if Harry had disconnected because of the eeriness over the phone.

And as he said that night months ago with the alteration of Y/N’s word, “‘Know y’cant. You promised, though.”

Harry’s voice cracked and Y/N wondered if he was gnawing on his lip like he usually would when tears overflowed the ducts of his eyes. In the distance, Y/N heard a door close shut and she wondered if he had been working—the same as her—before she had decided to call and he had decided to answer.

A knife pierced into Y/N’s chest, guilt seeping in her veins as she recalled the words she had uttered to him. A promise that she would visit if he gave her the ticket. But that was then and this is now.

She wasn’t the head of her department then. Y/N had a lot more responsibilities now and she couldn’t just up and leave whenever she wanted to.

“And you promised to come back. Did you?”

He didn’t.

“Look, can we talk about this later? ‘M in the middle of recording and—“

“When are you not?” Y/N cut him off absentmindedly, splitting her attention on the Excel sheet in front of her.

“Excuse me?” Harry quipped, faintly hearing the clacks of a keyboard. “I know I work a lot but y’do too. Barely even respond to my texts anymo’”

“Says the one who doesn’t answer my calls,” Y/N scoffed, rolling her eyes.

And there it was again. The defeat of silence that proved no matter how much they retaliated against one another—neither of them would win because both of them were at fault.

“I was busy,”

“I am, too,”

“Y/N—“

“What?”

“I-I don’t want to lose you. . .”

The ache in Y/N’s chest grew tenfold. Her fingers momentarily paused over the keys of her laptop board. There was nothing to lose. Not when they’ve already thrown it away.

“I don’t want to either, H. But don’t you think breaking up is better than waiting for something that will never happen?”

“What won’t?” He asked, genuinely curious.

Y/N pushed her chair back, staring at the view of the city from her office.

“Us. Our future. It won’t happen because you’re busy and I’m busy. There’s no right time for us to start, Harry.”

“Who says there has to be a right time, huh?”

“Says, everybody! How are we supposed to build our relationship further when there is no relationship to work on?”

The waves of emotion came crashing down. For months, Y/N had suppressed the feeling of loneliness inside of her. She missed Harry so badly that it hurt her to admit so she went with the temporary bliss of balling it up until it became too much.

“We just need time, Y/N. We don’t need to do it at the right time. Y’know that,” Harry whispered, wishing so badly that this conversation didn’t take place over the phone where he was currently locked in a bathroom stall.

He continued, “You were there, weren’t you? Barely saw you but y’were there. You know how I feel about you and I know you feel about me. We jus’ need time,”

Time.

Because time is when Harry and Y/N  would slow dance in the kitchen at god-knows-hour of the morning.

Because time is when Harry and Y/N blissfully spent their time in the cold, watching her throw the bundle of snow in the air as if it was in slow-motion.

Because time is when Harry would look at Y/N and swear that it has stopped because nothing else mattered except her.

“You know it, you know it,” Harry gulped, breath hitching over the phone. Was he crying?

“All too well,” Y/N responded underneath her breath. She knew that he was right—that all they needed was a chance to reconnect and rekindle the flame put out by distance.

She hated how familiar every memory was to her. She hated how easily she was brought back to the moment it all happened with just the breath of his whisper.

There was no denying the emotion she felt wearing his hoodie and red and black plaid pyjamas at three in the morning. The affection she received wearing those pieces of clothing from the man who owned them. Her sock feet glided against the cold floor. Everything came flashing back to Y/N and it hurt because there was no way she could grant his wish.

“You’re asking for too much, Harry. I-I can’t give you that. You can’t give me—us—that,”

“W-what are you saying, love?” He whimpered, clutching the device in his hand as a last resort to hold onto something that was drifting away.

He knew that she was right. Y/N couldn’t give him that and he certainly couldn’t either.

“We can’t be together. At least, not now. We’re not the same anymore. We want the same things but we’re headed on different paths,”

“But we’ll meet again, won’t we?” Harry’s hoarse voice exemplified that he was—indeed—been crying. And Y/N’s wet cheeks were proof that she was as well.

“Always,”

_____

[kapaskatha]

5 must-have pieces for your kid's collection:

Building a home in which you along with your better half creates a family is an emotional yet once-in-a-lifetime experience. You want to accumulate your home with the best of the things. Be it shortlisting the sober wall colours or handcrafted decorative stuff. Things take a highway turn, once you have a kid. Becoming more observant and careful than ever is very natural. Habits like protecting your kids, from edgy table corners, and counting their breaths till they finally sleep peacefully develop prominently in no time. You hide all the possible things with which your kid can hurt themselves, yet after all these efforts, they are most likely to do something notorious. But still, we can put our best efforts into preventing the kids, and their skin from all the harmful bacteria and managing their daily activities as much as possible. Your kids from the very initial stage of their upbringing require utmost care and attention. you have to keep an eye on Everything and anything– the tiniest detail that can go wrong. From bedsheets, and quilts to their toys; a considerate choice can make a large difference from the very beginning. To take care of every bit of it, especially of the family you’re bringing into existence, Kapaas Katha has launched a special kids collection under our Home and kids section, and the response has been really overwhelming, which made us work harder to provide better for all the parents and the kids out there. Here are 5 must-have pieces for your kid's collection to lighten up your home with much positivity:

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[sciderman]

you have a lot of headcanons about their top/bottom dynamics? ......hm.......*slides a dollar over tthe table*

i can’t believe how horny this place has gotten. i can’t believe i’m feeding you all like this. i’ve repressed all this for like, four years and it’s all bubbling to the surface. okay, so: 

- peter is pretty selfless when it comes to love - he’ll fall all over himself to please his partner, and he’ll quite happily neglect his own needs to make sure his partner is happy first. this works just fine for wade, who… 

so wade often “comes first”, if you catch my drift. wade gets his way and gets pampered, not necessarily because he demands it (though he does), but because peter is just. an incredibly generous boy, who wants nothing more than for wade to feel good and amazing. and wade’s so, so good and appreciative, that it’s a real treat for peter too. 

- wade’s greedy, that’s no secret. he’s not a very good top at all, because he does kind of make it all about him. he can’t help it. that’s the way he is. especially at the beginning of the relationship, when all that’s in his mind is that he wants to be loved and to know that he’s being loved. 

truly wade is just a bottom at heart because he craves attention, and loves to feel treasured. this works just fine for peter, who loves to shower his partner in praise and other such niceties. truly. carnal bliss. like jigsaw pieces that fit together perfectly. though eventually wade starts wanting to return the favour, considering how nice and good and generous his boy has been. 

- while peter’s not exactly hesitant per say, he’s has a more traditional view on sex and masculinity, which wade thinks is frankly pretty ridiculous. 

wade kind of takes it upon him to break those barriers down, piece by piece. he’d never pressure peter into something he didn’t want to do, of course, but little nudges to push peter out of his comfort zone and unleash the wild spider within. peter has never been able to really be himself with a partner before (gwen didn’t know peter was spider-man, and felicia didn’t know spider-man was peter), so wade’s really the first person who’s able to peel back all of peter’s layers. there’s a she-wolf in the closet, open up and set her free. awoo! 🎶

- low-key, it’s a big part of why 9319 wade was so conflicted about peter’s big “I’m Bisexual” moment. he really wanted to be there for that breakthrough. all those years of trying to chip away at it. 

(just another of wade’s many, many character flaws shining through. greedy. greedy boy. likes to make it all about him. like he deserves credit for his hard work, or something. wade is a self-depreciating narcissist. complicated man.)

wade does like to take ownership over peter’s transformation. he takes pride in his work. wade’s so so proud of himself when he’s able to undo peter and get him to abandon his reservations and just let completely loose. encourages peter to use his strength, lose himself. stop worrying. switch off that big brain. 

part of that is to get peter to accept being pampered and trying new things and new surprises. it’s all a very educational and liberating experience for peter. 

other miscellaneous headcanons 

- heightened senses. peter’s heightened senses. it makes him so easy to unravel, with a well-placed kiss or wade whispering in his ear. 

- wade and peter are evenly matched in wits in any other context, but wade’s able to completely short out peter’s brain on demand. this sucks for peter. peter tries to knock wade off his feet with a few surprises of his own. usually it’s a show of strength or some other clever little use of his powers that wade finds freaky-deaky! (wade: i knew you were holding out on me.) usually, though, the most effective way to knock wade off balance is a show of emotion. wade typically doesn’t know how to counter that. 

- as much as wade acts like a brat, or a petulant child when he doesn’t get his way (which peter loves, honestly) wade is very good at doing as he’s told,  whenever sex is involved. (which peter also loves.) it’s the only time wade likes it when peter bosses him around. 

- wade likes to be told he’s being a good boy. he preens when he’s praised. top or bottom, doesn’t matter. in a sexual context or otherwise. say nice things about him and he’s all gooey like caramel. 

- they both like it rough. they love to be hoisted up, tossed, thrown hard against a wall - they love scrapes and bruises and adrenaline. at the end of it, they’re soft and tender, but they love to spar and wrestle for who gets to take charge. (wade lets peter win, more often than not. and he’s not even subtle about it.) (wade: ughn!  drats! i don’t stand a chance against your strong, strong arms, and your clever, clever brain! curse you, spider-man!) 

- (wade: i do it because i know you’re a sore loser, and i don’t want to wound your ego.) (peter: you do it because you’re a stupid bottom.) (wade gasps, faux-offended.) (wade: i’ll show you who’s a stupid bottom, spider-man.)

- peter simps very. very hard for wade in a pretty, pretty dress. there’s nothing that makes peter feel weaker in the knees than a pretty, pretty girl. and wade wilson? the prettiest girl peter’s ever laid eyes on. the dresses give wade a confidence boost too, so 90% of the time, when wade’s in the dress, he’s wearing the trousers (metaphorically speaking). peter bottoms for wade, all the while wade’s in beautiful, beautiful lace and frills. talk about challenging your preconceived notions of masculinity. 

- both of them are very tactile and touchy-feely. wade loves running his hands through peter’s dumb hair. pulling his dumb hair. 

- peter, peter loves fiddling with wade’s clothes. his suit, the straps, his belt loops, anything. but specifically wade’s pretty, pretty frills and skirts. none of my artwork depicting this specific headcanon are safe for work. sorry. 

- okay and FINALLY have to address the elephant in the room here. web kink.

the answer is: sometimes. it’s not actually a staple, it’s something peter mostly does when wade’s misbehaving. wade has good humour about it, and it’s mostly for a laugh, but it’s really impractical and a bit of a turn-off actually. (wade: i have to wait here. for a whole HOUR????) 

truly, they like touching each other far too much for them to be into the whole bondage thing. wade, actually, really isn’t into bondage at all. it’s really not his bag, as much as he jokes about it. 

peter’s more into it, in a schadenfreude sort of way. it’s entertaining. 

wade humours him - but when it comes to bondage, wade’s actually pretty vanilla. he doesn’t have the best memories when it comes to being restrained, so they don’t do it very often. seeing peter being restrained doesn’t really do anything for wade either, especially since it’s just a charade. peter can’t be restrained. 

i can imagine a scenario where peter is tied up by something very delicate, like red ribbons or something, purely for show. that’s something that’ll do it for wade. more of a romantic gesture, really. 

okay. that’s all for now folks. this is already so much longer than i expected it to be, oh my god. 

[erzulieanazare]

Black Bile - Mark Lee (P. 1)

Mark Lee x Cho Hyulbin / Mark Lee x Y/N

Warning: angst / mature themes

Words: 7k+

Love is a complicated emotion at all stages of life. But when you are a young adult, letting life crashing on you while having little to no control over what is happening, it can be described as a little more than complicated. hyulbin had learnt it the hard way, Mark also had learnt it the hard way, just like you had learnt it the hard way. And just like life, just like love and just like nights, this has to end. 

Chap 2

It was still dark outside.

Her window was slightly open; she liked the way the soft winter breeze would travel against her naked arms, making her shiver slightly. She was staring at the wall of the building next to hers. The streetlights created shadows that danced hazardously on the cemented surface, sometimes disappearing when a car passed by with its harsh flashlights on. It was hypnotic yet grounding.

She sighed and turned around, preferring the view of her closed closet decorated with many Polaroids of sceneries and her friends. While another sigh left her lips, she closed her eyes, letting her exhausted body fall into a restless slumber.

___

She woke up as tired as before, it was 9 am.

An unknown feeling was weighing on her, making her feel like she could gladly spend her day in bed, just sleeping. Everything was a blur and an annoying buzz was messing with her ears, making her brain aches for relief. However her self-pity party was cut short when her phone began to blow up with texts, reminding her that they had to meet in about an hour to talk about Renjun’s birthday. Of course she hadn’t forgotten; she couldn’t forget even if she wanted to, the boys made sure of that.

___

The violent wind was messing with her hair and she was shivering under the hundred of layers of clothes that were covering her petite figure. Seoul was way too cold in winter, she hated it. 

By the time she finally saw them in a café, her nose was red and her cheeks were fairly pink. They were sitting at the back with their drinks already sitting in front of them.

“Hey!” her voice was thin and raw due to the incredibly icy weather.

“Told you she was going to be late!” Haechan said as he rolled his eyes, gaining a small slap at the back of his head. He whined, as always.

“Sorry that I live farer than any of you here.” She finally sat down next to Jaemin, gazing harshly at the younger.

“Don’t be overdramatic Hyulbin, you aren’t even living on the other side of the city. We are practically neighbours.” The young woman only stuck out her tongue at Jeno who was fiddling with his straw while exposing her. She ordered her usual Latte and started taking off her coat when Haechan ran his fingers in her bang, trying to tame it.

“Did you go through a storm?” she didn’t respond, Jaemin cutting her before she could even open her mouth.

“So everyone please focus! We are here to talk about Renjun’s surprise birthday party. This is really important!”

“I’m pretty sure he is aware we are doing something.”

“Stop being so pessimistic Jeno, would you? Anyways, we have a lot to talk about.”

“More than your brain can take.” Hyulbin extended her hand to high five Jisung who just disrespected the president of Renjun’s-most-amazing-surpise-birthday-party.

“Why are we even doing it now? It’s in a month, we have a lot of time ahead of us.”

“That’s why you never finish your assignments on time Haechan.” retorted Jaemin while running a hand in his dark hair. He finally sat down and took out his phone to show the list of things that would be needed. He was probably more excited about it than Renjun would ever be.

“I want the same please!”

Hyulbin tore her gaze from Jaemin’s screen to look at the boy bringing a chair next to hers. He smiled at her, like he always did. She smiled back.

“Mark! How did you manage to arrive later than this crackhead?” Haechan complained as he extended his hand to high five the older boy.

“Sorry, I didn’t sleep that much last night and I tried to finish an essay before coming, so I kinda forgot…” He said as he made his signature handshake with everyone.

“What kept you up huh?”

He only blushed, avoiding anyone’s gaze by staring intently at Jaemin’s phone that was emitting a soft light.

“Nothing.”

___

Hyulbin was focusing on making the best cookies she had ever made. Well it wasn’t working that well because apparently they shouldn’t have been this dark while coming out of the oven. $Will she ever be able to cook something edible?

“It probably doesn’t taste that bad?” she tried to reassure herself, maybe it was only a little bit more coloured than it should be? It’s not that tragic, she thought. However, after taking a bite, she could only conclude that it clearly was that tragic.

“She won’t know if I buy some…” she would clearly know considering the lack of skills in cooking Hyulbin had.

She thought of trying again, maybe they would taste better, but the front door opened violently, hitting the wall. Suddenly, a high pitched voice screamed and appeared right in front of her.

“Hyulie!” the young woman was wrapped in her coat, her cheeks as red as the converse she was wearing. She opened her arms, the most beautiful smile on her lips.

“Hina! I thought you were landing later!” Hyulbin screamed while hugging her bestfriend. Hina hugged her back while balancing them both from right to left.

“I know right? My plane took off earlier than it should have because of a storm, so here I am. I missed you!” she was giggling when she finally let go of her roommate.

“What were you doing?”

“Cookies, or it was supposed to be cookies.” Hina looked at it then closed her eyes and grimaced. She turned around to face Hyulbin and smiled.

“I heard that the Starbuck’s ones are good.” The Korean girl rolled her eyes and pretended to be hurt by the Japanese’s comment.

“How was Japan?”

“It was great to finally see my family, I missed them. I missed Japan too, it was great to be there again, but a month is long and I missed you all so, so much! Is it strange if I say that I wanted to come back here as fast as I could?”

___

“And it’s such a cute dog, I’m happy they got it.” Hina added while biting on a slice of pizza. They were sitting on their couch, watching a romantic drama, light dimmed to make it comfier.

“Anyway! What about you? Anything happened?” she was emptying her coke faster than the speed of light, whining when the bubbles made her eyes tear up. She finally looked up to focus on Hyulbin, her famous soft smile plastered on her face.

“No, not really. Just Jaemin being hyper because of Renjun’s birthday and Haechan getting on my nerves. The usual.”

“Seems boring.”

“It’s not! Just the college life you know…”

“That’s what I said, boring.” Hyulbin pouted and threw a cushion at Hina, unable to hide her smile longer than that.

“Jaemin is hyper?”

“Do you even hear yourself? It’s Jaemin we are talking about, he always is…” Hina laughed and smiled to herself still picking at the napkin.

“Please, I want to throw up just by looking at you.”

“You are way too dramatic Hyul!”

“You are the reason of it.” Hina rolled her eyes and got up in order to get another coke. She was addicted to the overly sweet drink.

Hyulbin straightened up and wrapped herself more in the soft plaid. She was full, they had ordered way too much pizza. She threw her head back trying to ease her stomach. However, her small moment of peace was disturbed by a small ding originating from her phone. She took it out, her eyes fixated on the text she just received. She typed back, waiting impatiently for an answer.

Her eyes didn’t leave the screen even for a second.

“You should stop you know? It’s going to hurt you Hyul.”

___

It was finally lunch.

She had tried to pay attention to whatever Mr. Han was talking about but the way her stomach was clenching was making it harder. She needed to eat. That’s why she was one of the first to exit the classroom, ready to sprint towards the cafeteria. That was until Haechan caught her arm, rambling about his oh so hard life and this teacher that hated him or whatever. Hyulbin was ready to knock him but refrained because he would only complain more and she didn’t think she would be able handle it with an empty stomach.

“Yeah, your life is so hard Hyuck!”

“Stop using your fake concerned tone, that’s mean.” He whined while pushing her a little. By the time they arrived at the cafeteria, she was seriously considering choking him. They took their plates, and searched for any familiar faces.

“Look, they’re here.” She nodded and followed the younger boy towards the table near the window. Hina was sitting in front of Renjun, deeply focused on whatever they were talking about. Mark on the other hand was focused on his phone, eating slowly.

When they finally set their plates on the table, Haechan smacked Mark, earning an annoyed groan and a not so soft kick on his leg. Again, the younger whined.

“Why are you even surprised at this point? Every time you go and annoy someone, then you complain.”

“Oh please, at least I’m not some kind of cold bitch who looks at everyone as if she were ready to freeze them on the spot. Can’t say the same about you Hyul.” He said while throwing a small carrot at her.

“You are so damn irritating, no wonder you’re still single!” she threw the newly arrived carrot at him. Back at the expeditor some would say.

“You are single too!” He said offended.

She looked up when she heard those words, meeting Mark’s eyes. It only lasted a second but it was enough to make her a little bit uncomfortable. He shifted his gaze towards Haechan who was talking, yet she couldn’t do the same, her eyes focused on his face. He looked welcoming, warm, all these charming things that made everyone melt.

“So this girl from my math class was like ready to-“

“Hey guys!” a deep voice interrupted Heachan.

“You really couldn’t wait for me to finish Jeno ?”

Jeno rolled his eyes at Haechan’s comment and patted Hyulbin’s head affectionately. She smiled at him and shifted to make him some room. However he kept standing, pushing an unknown girl towards them.

“This is Y/N, we have some classes together.” you smiled when Jeno introduced you to the small group. The boy with a round face and a glowing skin moved his bag from the chair next to him and gestured you to seat down. You thanked him politely.

“I’m haechan.” He smiled. You nodded and shook the hand he was stretching at you. “And this is Hyulbin, she is just genuinely mean.”

“Hyuck, sometimes I just want to punch you right in the face…”

“See! Mean.”

The girl in front of you sighed and smiled at you, introducing herself gently. You were amazed by her looks; she looked fierce, strong with her dark bangs falling right above guarded eyes. Her smile was still genuine though, pink lips stretched into showing a perfect set of teeth. Her locks were trapped into a quick bun, but she still looked pretty fancy. She looked so delicate. You were a bit envious but you knew better than that. You had your own style, your own attitude. You were more on the solar side, wide and glowing eyes, messy hair and a communicative laugh. You were beautiful in your own way and you knew it, you were warm and welcoming.

“Alright, Y/N, this is Mark, he is a year older than us, well not all of us. Hyulbin and Mark were born on the same year so…” you nodded and looked at the boy who was already looking at you. He shone, he was literally glowing in your eyes, so when he proposed to high five you, you blushed and hesitantly connected your hand to his.

“It’s good to finally have another girl here. These two are way too annoying. Especially her.” added Haechan who was sitting next to you. He was pointing towards another girl, sitting next to Hyulbin. She turned around when she heard him.

“I’m glad to know that I’m not the most annoying here.” Hyulbin responded with sarcasm.

“Easy to do when Jaemin is around, Hina practically becomes a sasaeng.” Haechan put down his spoon, widening his brown eyes. “Oh Jaemin is so good at this! I just found out what is his blood type!” He had taken an annoyingly girly voice, supposedly mimicking the girl in front of him.

She huffed. “You are so dumb…”

“Sure.”

Mark who saw your confused look, poked your arm to grab your attention. You quickly turned your head to see him bending towards you.

“It’s Hina, the girl over there. I don’t think you two got introduced.” He then slowly got back to his initial position.

Your heart was beating faster than you would like to admit, he was considerate. He had seen your small struggle but made sure to help you. It was nothing really, but you were easily moved by these kinds of gestures. So you bit your lower lip and tried to hide your smile.

“Hina! Seriously come back, are you really mad? You’re too sensitive! That’s why I maintain that Hyulbin is less annoying than you!”

The loud voice of Haechan brought you back to reality, and the whine after being smacked on the arm by the fierce girl in front of you grounded you.

“Let her be, would you?” she stood up and sighed. She waved at everyone, even at you, and followed Hina who was leaving the cafeteria with a pout on her cute face.

___

The library was basically empty.

You were alone, reading a poetry book your friend had recommended you. It was nice and not too complicated, ideal to relax. The light coming from the nearest window was casting a soft shade of orange on you, allowing you to bath in the rare warmth the winter sun accepted to give.

“Look who’s there!”

You quickly looked up, surprised by the voice coming from behind you. A soft smile painted your lips when Mark finally appeared in front of you, throwing not so gently his bag on your table. He was not alone; a tall boy with dark hair was standing next to him, a radiant grin on his face.

“Right, you two never met! Jaemin this is Y/N.” so this was Jaemin?

“It’s nice to meet you.” He smiled at you and sat in front of you.

“So it’s you? I’ve only eaten once with them yet I feel like I’ve heard your name a thousand times.” You giggled when he turned to Mark, confused. The older only shrugged and finally sat down.

“Hina was there, and Haechan…”

Jaemin blushed lightly, groaning and messing his hair. He was embarrassed or shy, he and Hina must have had something going on but you were not sure if you should have asked seeing as the boy seemed already overwhelmed with this small teasing.

“What are you reading?” asked Mark distracted by the dots of light adorning the table, some sunrays must have been reflecting on Jaemin’s watch.

“Some book my friend recommended.” He nodded slightly.

“Are they a literature student?”

“Oh no, he is just an old friend from where I lived. He just likes poetry I guess.” You said while closing your book to focus on the two boys in front of you.

“Huh? Are you not from here?” Jaemin was looking at you surprised.

“Ah, no. It’s just that I’ve lived in Canada for a long time, I’ve just moved back here recently.”

“You are from Canada? Me too! I’m from Vancouver.” Mark was looking at you with the biggest smile on his face. He looked like he was glowing, and you didn’t know why but he laughed, making you giggle.

“Really? Seems like the world is small.” Your eyes couldn’t leave his face, it’s like they were glued.

“Yeah, it is. I’ve moved here at the beginning of high school, so I really miss it. It’s so nice to see a fellow Canadian!” You couldn’t help but laugh at his words. He was so passionate about it. It was clearly endearing, this boy overall was endearing.

“Oh my god, is it cult or what?” you heard Jaemin say under his breath. He was still harbouring a faint smile, showing that he was only joking.

“I feel you.” You looked down; you were fiddling with an already abused corner of the small book. How could he affect you when you had only met once, well twice considering this conversation? You wanted to kick yourself because this is totally like you, falling too quickly for a boy and then ending up heartbroken.

You were lost in your mind, torturing yourself over your sensitive heart when you felt an hesitant hand on your hair. Your eyes widened. You raised your head and saw Mark sheepishly grinning at you. He slightly shook his hand before finally opening his mouth.

“You had something in your hair” he wasn’t blushing but you could feel that he was a little hesitant, perhaps a little embarrassed.

“Oh.” That’s the only thing that was able to go past your lips. You didn’t know what to say, you were even more lost when you saw the frown on Jaemin’s face that wasn’t there a minute ago.

___

Hyulbin was sitting on the couch, squeezed between a hyper Jungwoo and a sleeping Hendery.

The music was loud and too many cups were dispersed to say that most of the people there were sober. It was fine really, she liked it, the throbbing music and the adrenaline coming from the alcohol flooding in her body. She liked it.

Jeno came up with another cup. She could tell that he was not sober by the way he was giggling alone. She accepted it, extending her hand to take it.

“Aren’t you a little squished?” he screamed for her to hear, she only laughed and shrugged.

“It’s not like I can make him move!” She gestured at Hendery who was far too deep in his dreamland.

“Then I can take him at least!” Jeno caught Jungwoo’s arm that was flailing to show something to someone seating on the coffee table. The older of the two whined but still followed Jeno. Hyulbin grinned and finally took a sip from her filled cup, grimacing when she felt the way too strong alcohol on her tongue.

___

It’s been half an hour since Jeno came to retrieve Jungwoo, yet Hendery was still peacefully sleeping, a leg on her lap. A dancer, right?

The over energetic atmosphere had decreased a little. Some bodies were sprawled on chairs, even on the floor, some were smoking on the balcony or discussing on its hard concrete even though it was freezing.

She had barely touched her drink. It was way too strong for her taste. So she had put it on the coffee table in front of her, already covered with dozens of other cups like hers.

The mood had shifted to a more sensual one as slow songs were now playing. She felt an insistent stare on her, it was not uncomfortable, not this one. She liked feeling it on her. So she met his gaze and didn’t avoid it. She talked through her dark pupils, and he responded with a knowing smile. The dimmed lights casted shadows on his face, making him look even more intense. Her heart rate sped up.

He emptied his cup and put it on the shelf next to him. She understood the meaning behind it. That’s why she stood up, moving Hendery’s leg on the couch so that he would not be too sore tomorrow. She glanced around; nobody had noticed the little game between them. It reassured her, allowing her to confidently walk towards him, her breath caught in her throat. He bent down to rest his forehead against hers, deposing his wide palm on her warm cheek. Their eyes were burning as they stared at each other. The atmosphere was suffocating there so he caught her hand and dragged her to his bedroom at the far end of the corridor. The door had just been closed that he already had her pressed against the hard wood, losing himself in the kiss he just initiated.

She followed his lead by snaking her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss herself. Their breaths were uneven and maybe just maybe she was ready to lose it all for this flitting moment. She closed her eyes, feeling every burning touches of his on her skin. She brought him closer, wanting to feel him as close as possible. He didn’t protest, instead holding her firmly by the waist. He detached himself from the kiss to look at her dishevelled self, red cheeks and hooded eyes. She looked gorgeous. Overwhelmed, he traced the line of her neck with slow and feather-like kisses, leaving her standing there frustrated as she ran a shaky hand in his messy hair.

“I want you.”

She had whispered it but he had still heard it clearly, even through their ragged breaths and his beating heart. He didn’t answer, it wasn’t needed anyway. He moved back allowing her to breath for the shortest moment before he took her hand, slowly manoeuvring her to the bed. It was dark, everything was shadows and dots of light. She still glowed under the white and soft gleam of the moon. He pushed her on the bed, her hair falling all around her head just like a dark crown of wavy locks. He positioned himself hastily on top of her, she was so small under him and it just made him smile fondly. Her delicate hands grabbed the front of his crumpled shirt to bring him closer, and closer, until their noses were barely touching. She exhaled shakily and connected their lips. It was slower than before, gentle even but not careful. It never was between them. His cold hands travelled under her fancy black top, making her shiver. Then, they circled her thin waist so she could sit up a little.

They made out for some minutes, until Mark found the way to her neck. He took in her sweet scent, he always thought it contrasted with her cold and reserved nature. It was too sweet for this strong girl but it fitted in a way, because she was an entire mystery and maybe it was one of the rare things that described her differently than her apparent nature and that she accepted to show. His little rant was cut short she began to straddle him. He took the hint and gripped the edge of her fancy top, slowly removing it. She blushed slightly, it had lasted a second, but he had seen it. A smug smirk took place on his lips as he bent down to kiss her chastely. She was wearing a black silk bra, complementing her figure perfectly. He was ready to take it off when she tugged firmly at his shirt, wanting it to also disappear. So he went along with it and threw the soft fabric in a far corner of his bedroom. She smiled at his antics and went back to kissing him. He took advantage of this moment to hook a long finger under the thin strap of her bra, smoothly sliding it down her shoulder. He uncovered her painfully slowly, making her vulnerable under his intense gaze. Her defined collarbone was peppered with his light kisses, trailing on her in order to map her body as he went down, kissing every inch of skin he could. She was holding her breath, eyes wider when he unbuttoned her tight black jeans.

He looked at her silently, she nodded.

His hands gripped her thighs and spread them a little, just enough for him to position himself between them. He teased her, just enough to bring out soft moans from her mouth. He loved this sound. She was frowning, closing tightly her eyes and holding tightly onto his forearms.

“Please.”

She stuttered messily. He chuckled and finally took off his pants hastily.

“The condoms are in the nightstand.” He whispered. With quick hands, she opened the drawer and threw the small package at him, hiding her blush. He rolled it down on himself and bent down to grab her thin wrists, pinning them down on the mattress next to her head.

“Oh my god” she sighed as her eyes rolled, taking in the immense pleasure he had offered her. He moved, slowly, at the beginning but quickly sped up, earning breathy moans from her. He closed his eyes to focus on the sensation, also trying to catch each one of her sounds.

“Mark…” she trailed when he suddenly quickened his pace, inclining himself to hit her right where she wanted. She moved her wrists to free them and started clinging onto his shoulders, lightly digging her nails into his sticky skin. Under the pale halo, their bodies moved in a near perfect synchronisation adding soft sounds of pleasure to the hazy scene.

He tucked his head on the crook of her neck, taking short intakes of breath, matching the furious beat of his heart. His bangs were clinging to his forehand due to the veil of sweat that was covering his skin. He mumbled. She couldn’t decipher a word but the vibration of his mouth against the small hollow of her neck made her shiver. She was losing herself here and would soon explode, blowing everything away with her. He hissed and tightened his hold, she knew.

“Hyul…” he harshly moaned, she tried to nod, but failed. “I’m close!” she buckled her hips and opened her eyes wide. She had been closer than him, so naturally she tensed around him. Plea to not stop filled the room. He groaned, loving the way she felt. She chocked and urged him to come, it was too much. She was becoming a mess.

He bit her soft flesh and let himself go.

___

The sun was soft, but nonetheless, it was torturing.

Mark’s arm was resting on her stomach while he was softly snoring. She looked at him with guilty eyes, and traced every feature his face had to offer. His eyes crinkled and she was so tempted to apply a soft pressure between his brows to relieve his skin from the faint wrinkle that somehow appeared. She didn’t do it; it was not her place to do it. She sighed and turned around, letting him face her naked back. The clock on his nightstand turned to 9 am. She closed her eyes and opened them again, holding her breath.

Hyulbin found herself grabbing his wrist. One of her finger followed the curve of his vein until it attained the middle of his forearm. Then, she pushed it as gently as she could to free herself from his hold. Instinctively, he moved to turn around so she was able to sit up, throwing a quick glance at him. He hadn’t woken up.

Her bare feet hit the cold floor, slowly sending shivers right through her spine that surely woke her up. Her eyes roamed around the room to find her items, and quietly she reached for them, covering hastily her naked frame. She heard rustle but didn’t pay any attention to it, too focused on clasping her bra. It’s the rough voice that made her raise her head.

“You’re already going?” he sounded confused. She felt his deep eyes on her back. She wasn’t that much of a coward so she turned around to meet his sleepy gaze. Mark was frowning and she didn’t like it, she didn’t understand why he would.

“The others are going to wake up, and I have things to do anyway.” She turned her head to grab her top.

“Don’t know, I mean it’s still early.” She loved the sound of his morning voice.

“Yeah… it is.” She walked to his closet, taking the first hoodie that came. It was black with a small white logo at the top left. He often wore it and it fitted him so well, somehow it looked even better on her.

“Make sure to give it back! I feel like I’m getting robbed every time you spend the night at mines.” He whined. She smiled to herself, it felt way too domestic.

When she finally left his bedroom, she was confused. What’s new? She thought to herself. She just had concluded that all of it, was too much for her or not enough for him.

She looked up and saw Haechan sitting on the couch, acknowledging her as he offered a comforting smile. Somehow he knew and she understood it so she shrugged and avoided his soft gaze. If she had faced it, it would only have made all of this so real so she quickly left, not even uttering a sound.

Haechan could only sigh.

___

Mark was resting his forehead on the table. Sighs escaped from time to time his soft lips but he didn’t move nor complain. He was just there, existing?

You were not sure if you should disturb him but you were holding two extremely hot coffee cups and the prospect of putting them down on the wooden surface was more than appealing. And maybe because when you were buying your Americano, you suddenly thought of him, finding it nice to also buy him one. You didn’t want it to go to waste so you sat down next to him, setting a cup in front of his folded arms.

“Hum… Mark.” The sound of his name leaving your lips straightened him up, looking around confused. In the end his soft pupils found your smiling face and he immediately relaxed, smiling back at you.

“Sorry, got a little drowsy.”

“It’s fine.”

The cup in front of him caught his attention. He turned to look at you with a raised eyebrow; you just shrugged indicating that he should drink it. So he did, holding the coffee with his hands.

He displayed a grimace. Your heart stopped beating for what felt like the longest time. What did you do?

“What is it? Is it too hot? Does it taste bad?”

His eyes widened at your frantic attempt to understand what was wrong. He put down the coffee and chuckled awkwardly.

“It’s nothing! I’m just not one for black coffee, I prefer sweeter things but I really do appreciate the gesture.” His eyes were soft and maybe you didn’t feel as guilty as before. You still blushed crazily, letting your hair cover your warm cheeks.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry, it really is fine. I mean you didn’t have to in the first place…”

You nodded and tried to lose your gaze in the area, avoiding him a little bit, only focusing back on him when you heard a faint sigh leave his lips. He didn’t seem as cheery as he usually was, he actually looked out of it. Mark looked like he was struggling to stay awake and a frown was carving his fair skin.

“Are you ok?” you didn’t know why you had whispered it but right at this moment, it had felt right.

“Yeah, just tired and a headache is bugging me but nothing to worry about.” He smiled at you, he did look tired.

“Do you want a painkiller? I always have some on me.” you were already fumbling with your bag when he put his hand on your shoulder, catching your attention.

“It’s fine, I’ve already gotten one from Hyulbin… It should kick in soon; I just have to wait a little bit.”

With that, he leant again against the table, his head turned in your direction. You were looking at each other without exchanging a word and you wouldn’t lie, it felt awkward because you didn’t know what to do or if it were normal that he didn’t try to fill the silence.

So you sat there, staring at him while drinking your own coffee.

___

“I swear, if I don’t make it, I pay for everyone!”

Hyulbin rolled her eyes at Jeno’s confidence because she knew he would cry later when he would in fact have to pay for everyone’s ramen. Usually Jeamin would try to knock some sense into him to remind him that he was nowhere near Kobe Bryant’s level but today he hadn’t said anything, probably because he was completely immersed in Hina’s presence. They were sitting a little bit further away, Hina’s legs resting on Jaemin’s while she was talking animatedly. He was looking at her like she had hung all te stars of his universe as well as the moon and the sun. Hyulbin could only smile softly at the scene, they made each other happy and they deeply deserved it, she believed it. Still, a tiny pang of jealousy hit her right in the heart: when will it be her turn?

“What are you looking at?”

She looked up, greeted by Hyuck bathing in the soft glow of the sunset, a radiant smile adorning his face. He sat down, nodding for her to answer.

“Jaemin and Hina…”

“They are disgustingly cute.” He said as he brushed his thigh: his jeans had been dirtied a bit.

“I want what they have.” At that, Hyuck turned his head to her, an expression of shock on his face. She frowned at him but he only put a cold hand on her forehead. 

“Are you sick or something? Our hyulie is finally showing feelings.” she hit his arm softly and sighed, done with his overdramatic antics. “No but really, these romantic stuffs, feelings and all, that is clearly not you! Are you broken?” She hit him again, asking him to shut up. He laughed. Her dark gaze then fell on his figure, he was running and laughing. His soft hair messed up by the wind and his hands ruffling it way too much. Jeno put an arm around him as Renjun was trying to shoot. Their laughs could be heard from miles away, it felt nice to be there she thought. It felt nice to see him like that, her brain might have added if she had been brave enough.

She hadn’t noticed that Hyuck had followed her gaze. He was only now understanding how much of an impact Mark was having on Hyulbin and maybe he wasn’t ready to see how deep she was in. He had hoped that it was just some hormones thing and party lust but as time passed, he had watched how things had developed. It was foggy, he wasn’t able to distinguish where it had began and where it would end, he had just hoped that whatever it was it would stop in a way or another without hurting too much. One thing he couldn’t have predicted though was Hyulbin being the one falling for Mark, she was the constipated one with her feelings, that was just impossible. If anything, she should have been the one to break Mark’s heart, even though he wouldn’t ever dare telling her that. 

“What the hell Mark Lee!” the scream of the petite girl next to him brought him out of his thoughts, she was rolling her eyes and swatting Mark’s hand away.

“I’m sorry, like really!” he was laughing, sitting down next to them. 

“You know? Before playing basketball you probably should learn how to use a ball.” Hyulbin deadpanned staring at the remaining two boys that were playing. Mark shoved her slightly still laughing. 

“Will you teach me then?” He asked with a low voice, probably full of innuendo that Donghyuck clearly didn’t want to understand. “Shut up…” she said under her breath triggering another laugh from Mark. She stood up, slightly stretching before running to Renjun who was deceiving Jeno. An high pitched giggle left her mouth when the victim of their attack began to flail his arms around trying to prove a point. 

Donghyuck focused intently on Mark, he needed to know what he was thinking, he needed to have a preview of how this would end. When he saw the ghost of a smile gracing the Canadian boy’s face as he looked at her, hope rose inside him. Maybe this could be the beginning of something rather than the chaotic end he was imagining.

“So Hyul…” he trailed off trying to bring out some type of reaction from Mark. The said boy turned around to face Hyuck. He hummed absentmindedly, playing with the hem of his puffed jacket.

“What do you think of her?” Mark looked at him funny, clearly confused. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, what do you think of her? You must have something to say about her, I mean you’ve known each other for some time now!” Mark was perplexed by these sudden questions but still, he didn’t know why, he thought he had to answer.

“Well I don’t know, she is just her. I’ve never thought about that, she is one of a kind that’s for sure. Why are you asking me that?”

Donghyuck shrugged, not entirely happy with his response. “I don’t know, I thought you would probably have more to say about her. You two are the closest right? Or am I imagining things?” His tone clearly indicated that he knew things, and deep down that made Mark anxious. He couldn’t deny it when he saw the seriousness in Hyuck’s eyes.

“I don’t know how to express it… With her, things are… I think you have to find out things about her, and even if you did, it is impossible to describe her. Like I said, she is one of a kind. She is her, nothing else could describe her more and it’s so damn frustrating because I would love to answer you with concrete answers.” He was messing with his hair while looking down, to him Hyulbin was the most frustrating person he had ever met. 

Donghyuck smiled, patting his friend’s shoulder as some type of reassurance.

“I think you did a good job.” 

He thought that Mark was about to say something back when his phone vibrated on the ground. He quickly took it and smiled, texting back as soon as he had opened it.

“Who is it?” 

“Oh nothing, Y/N wants to know if we could meet tomorrow to work together.”

Just like that, any hope that Donghyuck had built up came crashing down, leaving him to feel uneasy in front of his best-friend.

___

You were sitting at the same old table that you seemed to have taken an habit to use. Your books were all over the place but you didn’t mind, in this mess you found your organisation. You were scribbling on your notebook trying to find inspiration for your essay. You had to find philosophical things to say about yellow. The color. You were pretty sure that your teacher was high when he decided to use it as a theme. Was there anything philosophical about Yellow? You were not convinced that you could find a positive answer to that. 

You sighed, pouting and resting your forehead on the strong wood. Your eyes were ready to be closed when an intentional cough caught your attention. You straightened up when you saw Mark standing in front of your table, a warm smile on his face. He was holding a burning cup of coffee on his right hand while his other hand was fiddling with the chair in order to sit down. He delicately placed the steaming cup in front of you.

“To pay you back, you know for the other day.” He said shyly, taking out of his backpack his books and pens. You gently wrapped your hands around the coffee, enjoying the warmth that it procured you. You brought it to your lips, blowing the steam to not burn yourself. Then you tasted it: strong black coffee, your favorite.

“How did you know?” you asked your cheeks warm. He met your gaze and only shrugged, giggling a little.

“Since you bought me this type of coffee, I thought that you probably had to have some kind of affinity with it.” At that you blushed crazily. He had managed to remember it, he even had deduced your tastes. Your heart started to beat faster, and even if you tried to keep yourself on check and not get false hopes, you still thought that it meant something. No one would do that for someone they didn’t care about. 

“Thanks!” he nodded, focusing on the document he had to work on. If you were not interested in your essay before, now it was worse, way worse. you couldn’t detach your eyes from his frame, he was that hypnotic to you. When he moved you hastily hid your head behind your laptop, trying to be a little more subtle. You knew he had caught you and if it were not for the smirk that he was sporting, you would have felt way more embarrassed.

___

The two were panting, lying in Hyulbin’s large bed. Her dark hair was sticking to her forehead while a thin layer of sweat made her skin shine under the weak moonlight. Mark was basically in the same state, his eyes focused on the ceiling. She was lost in him, she was so addicted to him she thought she would be destroyed if this thin link between them was to be cut. She couldn’t fathom the idea of not seeing him, not being able to touch his soft skin or to run her hand in his dark locks. The idea was terrifying, the future was terrifying. At some point she knew this would have to end, he would be the the one to end it all. And she knew. She knew she wouldn’t be getting out of this happy. She would break.

Right now, she wasn’t ready.

Her fingers tickled his shoulder to catch his attention. He immediately turned his head in her direction, locking his dark gaze with hers. No words were exchanged. Maybe looking at each other was enough for now; he was also loosing himself in the idea of her. Maybe that was it. The idea of her was enough. Mark traced her delicate traits with his thumbs, bringing a shy smile out of her. He liked it, it seemed to glow and she rarely allowed it. Her eyes fluttered closed and a breathy laugh escaped his lips.

Nothing remains permanent with them. This moment wasn’t an exception. So like that, the bubble had been burst.

The soft sound of Mark’s phone had severed their own moment. He had turned around without glancing at Hyulbin, retrieving his phone on the floor. Then she saw it. How could she miss it? His eyes had formed small wrinkles at the corners, and a small smile played on his lips. His face had lit up in an instant and she instantly knew.

From Y/N:

Hey! I thought it would be nice to grab some coffee some time if you’re down for it. I mean that’s just an idea, but it could be nice and all!

From Mark:

Sure! Just remind me to clear my schedule hehe

She turned around in order to collect herself. The weird shadows on her ceiling didn’t do much to calm her ocean of thoughts this time. She now felt naked, robbed from her feelings. He was talking to her now, she was not sure what he was saying but she didn’t even want to know. She hummed. To be polite? To keep a deteriorating bond? She didn’t know, she knew nothing.

She was almost sure he thought she was falling asleep. It was better this way.

She hummed again and he stood up, dressing up and closing the wooden door behind him.

She was alone.

—-

Hey, this is the first chapter of a fanfic that I’ve thought about a long time ago. I hope you will like it !

PS: I’m sorry if it isn’t that smooth of if there are some mistakes, English isn’t my first language. I really tried to erase most of it, but if there are, don’t hesitate to tell me! I would gladly take it into account.

Thanks for reading ☁️