#and self-isolating because no one Really wants you around right?? how could they

[allovesthings]

Devin Grayson's trauma dumping of Dick happened at the same time as the Outsiders (2003) and I think I would have loved to read Roy and Dick having a conversation after Blüdhaven is destroyed and he almost killed himself trying to save those people.

Don't get me wrong, while I really didn't like how Bruce handled it after (don't yell at your passively suicidal son that you won't forgive him if he doesn't value his own life), I get why it had to be Bruce there.Among other things, It's his judgement that has Dick spinning around in circles but I wish Roy also got a chance to have a conversation. They've really been building up Dick's declining mental health in the Outsiders. Helena is out there telling Roy that something is really clearly wrong with Dick and Roy himself has created the team specifically because he knows Dick is trying to isolate himself because of Donna's death.

In my opinion, it doesn't really culminates to anything in the Outsiders. Even Donna's return,which you would think was Dick's reason for being so bad if you read The Outsiders only and which happens in the Outsiders/Titans crossover, kinda put Dick in the backseat while focusing on Cassie and Roy. That isn't a bad thing in itself but it kinda feel like they dropped that plot a little bit (Dick does quit and come back but that's before she is back).A conversation between them could have been a catharsis or a resolution of that plotpoint, especially considering the Outsiders shows up at the end and Roy specifically tells Oracle that something is very clearly wrong with Dick after Dick knock him out right before Blüdhaven is nuked.

Also, when I first read the Devin Grayson run, one of my main criticisms (apart from all of the racism and badly handled sa and the fact that she couldn't even finish the story she wanted to tell) is that from the moment Haly circus is destroyed and Babs kicks him out of her apartment the next day until the war games, Dick is isolated and it's very weird because a lot of things happening to him are making the news (Amy is the one who seems to be there, oh and Alfred makes an appearance I guess) but after having read Outsiders, it really feels like Roy was the only one who was trying to actively help him and stop him from self-isolating (and then he got shot in the chest five times).

#the outsiders (2003) #dick grayson #roy harper #bruce wayne #nightwing #arsenal #batman #donna troy #dc #dc comics #tw: sa #tw: suicide mention #tw: suicide #trigger warning:suicide

[finelinevogue]

sad beginnings,

summary - everyone sees you as this weird and crazy ravenclaw. everyone except remus and sirius.

pairing - ravenclaw!reader x wolfstar

word count - ~2.5k

tw: angst | no happy ending (yet) | bullies | blood | fight | self deprecation | she pronouns used

You thought breakfast would be better than a bowl of porridge, but that’s what you get for waking up late.

You’d overslept on your alarm clock by 45 minutes and were now paying the consequences by eating disgusting gruel for breakfast. There wasn’t even any honey to drizzle on top, thanks to some older Ravenclaws hogging it for their pancakes.

Half the tables were empty, as people started to head off for their first lessons of the day.

You had potions in half an hour.

Potions was one of your favourite lessons of the day, not because you liked the subject - in fact you despised it - but because you got to secretly crush on two of the prettiest boys in school.

Remus Lupin and Sirius Black.

They were currently the only group of Gryffindors still at their table, making a rather loud ruckus as they stood up from the table to leave.

James was teasing Lily about something and Sirius and Remus couldn’t stop laughing over it. Lily pretended to be offended and fake punched Sirius for laughing at her, only to have Remus lean down only slightly and kiss Sirius’ clothed arm all better.

It didn’t help that the two boys you would of course have a heavy crush on would already be in a well established relationship.

I mean, they were the prettiest boys in the school and they were opposites to each other so their relationship made perfect sense.

You just wished you had gotten there with one of them first. But who? You admired them both the same.

Both of them had—

“Oi, Y/N!” A Ravenclaw in your year, named Philip, shouted from down the table, making your porridge slide off your spoon and splat against the table.

You looked towards where Philip and his band of quite mean friends sat.

“Daydreaming about boys you could never get, again?!” Philip laughed, causing others around him to as well.

You didn’t reply. You knew better than to reply. Just keep your head down and trouble should go away.

Your eyes drifted from Philip over to where the Gryffindors had nearly exited the Hall, only Sirius and Remus had stopped just shy of leaving.

They were stood talking to each other.

“Who is it this time Y/N? Hm?” Darcy, one of Philip’s friends teased.

“Remember when Y/N tried to date Isaac? As if she could ever date him.” Someone else joked.

You looked back down at your porridge, still listening to them but trying your best to block them out.

Looking at your breakfast made you think about Isaac. He was just as bland and boring. Until he wanted to have sex with you and you really didn’t want that, well then he became an absolute prick. Started spreading horrible rumours about you, showing his true colours.

Isaac started spreading stories about how you tried to come onto him, only to deny him. How you had been weird and crazy the entire night, when in fact it was the opposite.

Now everyone thinks you’re weird, a prude and a bitch.

One of the reasons you have no friends.

Isaac had managed to isolate you and Philip and his cronies had taken advantage of that.

“Think she was looking at Remus and Sirius.” Someone snickered, making you love uncomfortably.

“No way! Y/N has hots for the dogs,” They thought they were funny, “Is that true, Y/N? You want Remus and Sirius to be your little boyfriends?”

They all laughed, until they went silent.

“You alright, Phil? Can I call you Phil?”

Your head shot up to see Sirius leaning down over the bench next to Philip, resting his palms on the table and glaring him down. Remus stood right behind him.

Your heart rate increased at the sight of them magically appearing.

Did they hear? Did they know? Were they in on the sad and pathetic joke?

“It’s just Philip.” Philip gulped.

“Great, Phil.” Sirius smiled, but it definitely wasn’t genuine. “We heard your filthy mouth speak our names and, well, I for one don’t like pricks speaking about me or my boyfriend behind me back. So keep your goddamn mouth shut or I’ll hex you back to Year 1. Okay?”

“Uhhh…”

“I said, okay?” Sirius asked again.

“Yes, yes!” Philip stuttered.

“Good.” Sirius moved back to stand up.

It was lovely that Sirius had come over here to defend his boyfriend like that. You craved someone having the kindness, and definitely the courage, to stand up for you like that.

You watched as Sirius took Remus’ hand and you wondered what that felt like.

You could imagine Sirius’ hands being quite rough and Remus’ hands being calloused, but both still having a sense of softness to them. They’d both be very grounding and warm to hold on to.

Then they both walked your way.

You quickly started to eat your porridge again, keeping your head down. You don’t think either of them would make a scene with you, but maybe they’d caught on to your gazes and blushing and they’d had enough.

You thought you were subtle but maybe you’d been far more obvious than you intended. You cursed yourself, but only knew it was a matter of time before you made a fool of yourself.

Maybe they weren’t even walking towards you. Why would they? They didn’t know you, except for your name maybe.

But then you saw them stop in front of the bench on the other side of you.

You looked up to find them both smiling warmly down at you. You gulped, thinking the worst.

“You have potions next right, Y/N?” Remus asked kindly.

He did know your name…

And he knew your timetable…

“Yes?” You asked, cautiously.

“You want to walk over with us? We’re heading there now.” Remus asked.

You were a little gobsmacked that they were asking you to do something with them.

No one has asked you to do anything in a very long time, even something as simple as being asked to walk to class with them. So this was a huge deal to you.

“Really? I mean, sorry, I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“Intrude?” Sirius laughed, “Never. C’mon.” He kindly smiled and you nervously got up from the table.

You picked up your robe and wand.

“Are you sure?” You asked to make sure a second time.

“Y/N, if you don’t hurry up then Sirius is probably going to pick you up and carry you there himself and then I’m going to have to deal with him moaning about crippling back ache later on… Oh my God… That want be implying anything about your weight… Um… Should I just stop?” Remus rambled and looked to Sirius for help.

“You really should.”

And you smiled.

Genuinely smiled, for what felt like the first time in a long time.

•-•-•-•-•-•

The hallways were starting to become busy.

People moving from morning time to lesson time, especially the first years with their overpacked bags and reckless running through the corridors to get to their lessons on time.

One darted past you, causing you to wobble. Luckily Remus was behind you and he put his hand on the lower part of your back to balance you carefully.

“Thank you.” You said, whilst trying really hard not to blush.

You failed to notice Remus blushing too as you turned back around. You definitely didn’t fail to notice the way Remus kept his hand on your lower back, helping you weave through the halls.

With two of the most popular guys in school, you didn’t realise how easy it was to actually manoeuvre through the corridors.

You’d spent too much time being infatuated with the time that Remus and Sirius were giving you, though, that you’d forgotten your potions book.

You stopped short, feeling the boys bump into the back of you abruptly.

“Bloody… Are you alright Y/N?” Sirius asked.

“I’ve forgotten my potions book. I’ll catch up with you, I just need to run to get it.” You turned to say to them, feeling slightly small underneath both their pretty eyes looking at you.

“Here, just take mine.” Sirius offered.

“No.” Remus swatted his hands, “Another “forgotten” book and you are going to get detention.”

“Oh screw that.” Sirius rolled his eyes.

“Y/N, take mine instead.” Remus insisted.

“What?” This time Sirius hit Remus’ hands away, “And mess with your perfect record? I don’t think so. Y/N…”

“Hey, listen.” You chuckled at the sight of them arguing… over you. It felt like the most surreal situation. “I’m just going to get my book, okay? Then none of us will be in trouble. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

You smiled at them in thanks, before darting around and away from them.

After you’r turned the corner, Remus hit Sirius over the head with his textbook.

“Ow! What the…” Sirius rubbed the back of his head.

“Really? You were about to give yourself a detention?” Remus chuckled, knowing exactly that was what Sirius was about to do and why.

“For Y/N? Absolutely.” Sirius smirked.

Remus shook his head and kissed Sirius’ cheek in admiration, before taking his hand and leading him off to potions.

•-•-•-•-•-•

As you rooted through your belongings in your dorm, you hummed to yourself with content.

You felt ten times lighter than you ever had felt before and all because the two pretty boys you’ve been admiring for so long had looked right back at you. They’d even gone as far as walk with you to potions.

Sirius was willing to get a detention for you and Remus was willing to break his golden reputation. That was flattery of their highest form.

You finally found your book, before pivoting to leave your dorm.

Only to find Darcy standing there with a cat in her arms, looking malicious as ever.

“O-oh Darcy. Hello.” You said, losing your hum and your smile with one look at her.

“Cut the pleasantries. You made us look like fools at breakfast in front of Sirius and Remus, you foul witch.” Darcy spat at you.

“I’m sorry, I never meant for that to happen.”

You felt yourself caving in on yourself, becoming that shelter of a shy person that these horrible people made you.

“And you think an apology will make it all better?”

“I don’t know.” You lowered your head.

“Well it doesn’t.” She moved towards you and you gulped in fear of her. She’d pulled at your hair and enchanted curses on you before, so you were terrified of what she might do now. Especially when it was just you two here.

“I’m sorry.” You looked up at her, hating that she could probably see the fear in your eyes.

“Show us up like that again and you’ll leave with more than just a scratch.”

“A scratch?” You asked, but maybe you shouldn’t have.

Before you knew what was happening Darcy’s cat attacked your face, clawing at your cheek with one powerful hit. The cat screamed what sounded like a war cry and you screamed in pain.

Your head turned to the side, leaving the cat’s claws to drag slightly down your cheek before letting go. You didn’t reveal your face again until you heard the door slam shut.

It only took a minute for you to delicately touch your cheek and see the blood for the pain to come flying in. You cried as you sat on your bed, cupping your cheek from dripping blood everywhere with one hand and the other hand resting on your forehead as you came to terms with what just happened.

You’d just been attacked for trying to apologise for something you hadn’t been in control of.

Your tears ran down your cheek and stung as they ran into the cuts on your cheek.

Walking to the little mirror hanging up on the wall, you looked in to see yourself. There were three lines scraped down your once bare cheek, running from just under your eye to resting on your jawline.

You cried some more, completely getting lost in the self loathing, before rushing around the dorm to find some healing lotion and tissues.

It took you ten minutes to clean up the mess on your face, and another five for the bleeding to calm down. It was an angry red mess, but you had to get to potions before the class ended.

You breathed out through your mouth a shaky breath, dabbing under your eyes with the sleeve of your jumper to wipe away the tears.

“You’re okay.” You said to yourself in the mirror. “You’re okay.”

You found that talking moved the cuts on your face and they stung even worse. So no talking it was. Brilliant.

“You’re okay.” You reminded yourself one last time.

But your words felt far from convincing.

#finelinevogue fic #finelinevogue masterlist #harry potter fic #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders fluff #poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders imagine #poly!minsung x reader #poly!marauders x y/n #wolfstar x reader #wolfstar fic #marauders fic #marauders x reader #wolfstar angst #poly!wolfstar x reader #poly!wolfstar angst

[genderlessdude92]

PRECIOUS

SMALL LIL’ ANGST—>FLUFF FIC

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PAIRINGS: Alastor x Reader

SUMMARY: You and Alastor get into a fight because you’re just worried he got hurt after a fight with Vox. He snaps at you and…well, you isolate yourself. whoopsies!

WARNINGS: Emotional abuse, Toxic relationship dynamics (but they both love each other dw), Intense emotional distress, Language, Potential Triggers, Donestic conflict. (MAJOR FLUFF AT THE END THOUGH!!! ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP!!!) They were a couple alive too if you don’t mind idk i suck at writing- USAGE OF Y/N I ALMOST FORGOT AHHH- Lmk if i missed anything :3

NOTICE: please don't steal/copy/translate my work. But thanks for liking it, though!! ^^

WORDS: 1.7k

Enjoy!!~

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“Alastor, are you serious?!” You yelled as Alastor started to walk away from you, mid conversation.

Alastor had just gotten into a big fight with Vox, luckily survived, though. The frustrating part is, he won’t even let you heal him. Or know what the battle was even about?!

Which made you really, really paranoid.

“Alastor, don’t walk away from me, that’s rude.” You caught up with him and began to match his pace and he walked to the halls of the hotel to lucifer knows where. “We need to talk about this.” You say firmly. “I’m going to find out one way or another.” You add, raising your voice slightly.

Alastor stopped walking and turned around to face you. He was looking down at you, which always made you feel so small. Even if he wasn’t actually looking at you, you could still feel it.

“Well, then.” His voice was calm, but a hint of annoyance was there. “Aren’t you just invested in my little public hiccup.”He crossed his arms, waiting for your response.

“Yes I am. And I think we should talk about it, instead of you getting defensive.” You looked him dead in the eye and kept talking. “And why you didn’t tell me.” Your voice went quieter again.

Alastor hid a chuckle, “I thought you would care more about me surviving, than knowing how many lives I took today.” He raised his eyebrow, mocking you. “Or maybe, I don’t want to share this kind of information with someone who will judge me for it.” He was now fully annoyed by you.

You stepped closer to him, trying to keep him from leaving again. “Alastor, please stop. I’m just trying to help. I don’t…” You trailed off nervously. “I don’t want us fighting.”

Alastor smirked at you, “Oh, don’t worry love. We aren’t fighting. Yet.” His tone was harsh and he leaned down to look you in the eyes. “But I will if you continue to harass me about this.”

You felt yourself start to panic, but tried your best to hide it. “I’m sorry Alastor, I just…” You couldn’t finish your sentence, as he interrupted you.

“No. Don’t ‘just’ anything. You know I hate that word.” He said with a cold smile. “Now leave me alone before I get upset with you.”

“…You know,” You began, standing in your place as Alastor walked away, “You should at least act like you care about my opinion, maybe act like a husband, as well.” You snapped back, but in a more calm, collected tone. (minus the shakiness in your voice.)

“That’s rich coming from you.” Alastor snapped back, turning around to face you again. “What did I ever do to deserve such a self-righteous wife?” He raised his voice a bit, but not enough for others to hear. “How dare you assume things about me without even asking. How dare you come here and make demands of me. How dare you try to control me.” He continued yelling, walking towards you. “You have no right to tell me what to do! I don’t have to explain myself to you!”

“I’m not trying to control you. I’m just saying, maybe you could at least consider what I have to say sometimes…” You tried to say bravely, but failed at the end. You felt so small. So insignificant.

You felt like nothing.

Alastor was now right in front of you, towering above you. His height and stature were intimidating, but his voice was worse. It was rough and demanding, making you feel like you weren’t worth anything. “You are nothing, nothing compared to me.” He sneered. “I don’t give a damn about what you think. What you say. What you do. You’re just a pathetic little sinner who has no idea what real power feels like. You’re not worthy of my time. You’re not worthy of my attention. You’re not worthy of my love.” He spat out the last word like it tasted sour in his mouth.

His words were cutting through your heart, and you couldn’t take it anymore.

You dashed away to the nearest staircase, needing to get to your office. Your only safe space.

***

It has been about a week now since the fight you and Alastor had.

It had also been a week since you came out of your office.

You didn’t really leave your office because, one, it had a fridge of food and other things. Two, you had a makeshift bed with the couch. And three, why would you even go out there?

Only problem is, you’ve cried everyday, and that made you feel like complete imp-shit.

You really wanted to see Alastor, but you knew it wouldn’t end well.

You also didn’t want to be around anyone else, either.

***

Alastor was a gentleman to all women who deserved so.

An example he would give you is Rosie. He’s a gentleman to her because she’s nice to him and has manners. She deserves it.

But, if he was near Velvette, he would call her cruel names and shred all her ‘designer masterpieces’.

But, now he was confused.

What happened with Y/N?

He had never fought like that with her before no, usually she would be next to him in bed right now.

He was starting to miss her.

…he needed to give her an apology.

But he knew he wasn’t good with words.

So, he brainstormed.

“I could probably give her a heart…” He thought, stepping out of bed and pondering for a moment, “…no, no….maybe…some flowers?…” he looked over to his bayou. “…Allergies.”

He slumped onto his armchair and looked around his room for any ideas at all.

“…maybe some candy? No.” He thought, “She doesn’t eat much sweets.”

He sat there for a while longer, thinking.

Then it hit him.

***

You heard footsteps outside your door, and immediately froze. You looked around your room for any escape route, and found none. You decided to sit back down on your couch, and began to wait for whoever was there to leave.

The footsteps stopped outside your door, and a knock sounded out. “Y/N, open the door.” Alastor’s voice was stern and commanding. “I know you’re in there.” He added.

You opened the door slowly, and peeked out to see who it was.

“Hello, darling.” Alastor said with a warm smile. “Can I come in?”

You just stared at him, saying nothing

‘fuck’, he thought, ‘i caused this.”

“Y/N, I just want to apologize.” He finally said, breaking the silence. “I shouldn’t have said those things to you. I was wrong.”

“…you don’t mean that.” You replied, still not moving.

“I do mean it, darling. Please jsut…let me in.” Alastor said sincerely, taking a step forward.

You hesitated for a moment, then moved aside to let him in. He closed the door behind him and stood there awkwardly for a few seconds, unsure of what to do or say next.

Then, your eyes wandered to the large picture album he was holding to his side.

“Alastor…what’s that?” You asked, taking a step back cautiously.

“…it’s our picture album.” He looked at you, remaining calm. “…from…when we were alive. You know, with all those crappy photos.” He smiled softly.

You looked up at him, “…I’m scared.”

Alastor knew exactly why, as well.

He sighed, “I promise…I will keep myself contained if i ever, ever lash out like that… ever again.” He claimed, tears building up in his eyes.

“What i said back there was not true at all. You are everything to me, you are worth so much, and most of all, I love you.” He dropped the book to the floor and held out his arms to hug you.

You didn’t move, “…I don’t want to be here…” You said, letting a tear fall.

He nodded, “That’s okay, dear, let’s go to our room, okay?” He reassured, picking the book back up and holding you tight to his waist as the shadows consumed you both, talking you to his room.

***

You and Alastor missed this.

Limbs tangled together in bed, holding each other close, breathing in each other’s scents, you wish you had this sooner.

Alastor flipped a page of the album, “Oh look,” He noticed, pointing his claws to the first picture in the album, “It’s our cat, oh, what was his name again?” He asked, looking at you.

You were still crying.

He took a deep breath, “Y/n,” he exhaled, “It’s okay, dear…please don’t think about it.”

You looked at him, “w-what?” you said, wiping your cheek.

He ran a claw through your hair, “Nothing.” He said, smiling softly.

You put your head on his shoulder, “Okay,” you mumbled into his chest, closing your eyes and enjoying his scent.

He stroked your hair, “Do you remember our wedding day?” He asked.

You shook your head, “…no, I don’t…it was too long ago…” you said, sniffling.

He kissed the top of your head, “That’s alright, sweetheart, we have plenty of time to talk about it.” He assured you, pulling you closer to him.

You closed your eyes, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. You felt safe in his arms. Safe and loved.

Alastor flipped the pages until he found the wedding pictures, “Oh, here we are. Look, see how my mother walked you through the aisle?” He rubbed the picture with his thumb, rethinking back the memory.

“…yeah…I remember now…” You snuggled closer into him, trying to control your ragged breathing.

“…just breathe daring.” He reminded you, “Look here, you see how much you’ve changed?” He laughed softly, flipping another page, “See here? Here you are at our anniversary dinner, you wore that beautiful dress that made your legs look amazing.” He blushed lightly, “I remember you told me I was the only one allowed to see it.”

You giggled, “…that was a joke, silly.” You said, opening your eyes and smiling up at him.

“Ah, yes, I know.” He smiled back,

“…You’re so precious to me, y’know that?” He said, leaning down and kissing your forehead.

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NOTES: Idk what i was thinking when i made this fic erm…! Idk I’ve been going thru some shit rn but I’ve gotta impress the community because the notes/likes/comments/reblogs on my posts aren’t doing to good rn!! Oh no!!! (that is a sign from my greedy ass) And i just started a multi-chapter fic so like idk why i’m typing this- support is appreciated. BAI!!![![![11!

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MASTERLIST LINK

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#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x wife reader #alastor #hazbin alastor x reader #alastor x you

[sleepinghypnos]

IVE Wonyoung ft. Yujin x Male Reader (OC)

Tags: Smut

Genre: Facefucking, Blowjob, Breeding, Rough Sex, Female Idol x Male Reader (OC), Self-degradation, Filming (Recording), Cheating (Hard)

PS: This story is made through AI story generator that's why there's so much dialogue. I just tried using it to see if it's okay. Let me know if you have anything to say. I also added my own writing, it's when Yujin joins in. Thank you...

It's been a whole week since someone caught you in the act. She's a younger idol but one of the prominent ones in the industry, a former member of I*ZONE and now IVE.

You found it adorable when she displayed such a shocked and surprised expression when she saw what you did to her sunbaes... After the incident. the three of you went back to your seats and enjoy the remaining event arranged for idols.

Your bodyguarding duties continues the same with your escapades with the members of ITZY. Yuna and Chaeryeong always finding way to get fucked by you, the rest of the members on the hand shows support for their co-members.

In one of the music shows that ITZY attended, you met the young idol again and same with the last time, she is shocked to see you. Wonyoung tried to hide her flustered face but failed, her other members are with her that time and Yujin--- the oldest of them noticed how red as a tomato Wonyoung's face was.

ITZY is now preparing for a recording, you use this opportunity to grab Wonyoung into the isolated corner of the building, no one is going there, because it is creepy for some idols that's why they avoid this place.

Wonyoung felt your very strict and cold aura and she let you drag her. After several minutes she manage to talk to you. You arrived in the isolated spot, no one is around to find out what you are about to do. You drag her inside the room and locked the door.

"What are you doing?" Wonyoung asked. "Nothing," you replied. "You saw something, right?"

Wonyoung blushed and tried to get away from you. "Don't try to act innocent, i know you saw something you shouldn't have."

"I'm not going to tell anyone!" She cried out.

"Then why did you look so shocked when I looked at you?"

"I'm not!" Wonyoung yelled.

"But you were looking at me like that as if you also wanted what they had." you said.

"No I don't!" she shouted.

"Yes you do!"

"No I don't!" she screamed while looking at you.

"Yes you do!" You said again. then you release the monster hiding inside your pants and pulled down Wonyoung's panties.

"See? Your pussy is wet for me already!" You said. A smirk is visible on your face.

"Stop this right now!" She said threatening you. But you didn't listen to her.

"You're gonna suck my cock and you're gonna love it!" you uttered.

Wonyoung was still trying to fight you, but you are too strong for her. You pushed her head towards your crotch.

"Suck my cock." you said. She started to protest, but before she could say anything, you shoved your cock into her mouth.

"Mmmmmm!" she moaned as she sucked on your cock.

She was a little surprised by how big it was, but she was even more surprised when you started to fuck her face. the young idol gagged every time you thrust forward, but she couldn't help herself.

The way you were fucking her face made her pussy tingle. She loved it, but she hated it at the same time. you're really rough with her, and she knew if she didn't stop you soon, you would cum in her mouth.

But Wonyoung had never tasted a guy's cum before, all she did was use her hands and some dildos to pleasure herself, deep down she wanted to have a taste. Curiosity got the best of her and let you have your way.

"Cum in my mouth!" Wonyoung begged. As she release your cock from her mouth to talk.

"Not yet." you replied. "When I tell you i'm cumming, you will swallow it!"

Wonyoung nodded her head in agreement.

"Now suck my balls!" you commanded. Wonyoung opened her mouth wide and stuck out her tongue.

You placed your balls in her mouth and started to squeeze them. she moaned loudly, and started to lick them clean. Then you put your cock in her mouth once more and started to fuck her face harder and faster.

Your cock was hitting the back of her throat, and making her gag. But she didn't mind, she just wanted to feel him cum inside her.

"Oh yeah, you love my cock don't you?"

"Mmm!" She nodded while looking up to you with lust in her eyes.

"Good, because I'm about to cum!" you said.

"No wait!" she said. "I want to be fucked, please!"

You laughed. "I can't believe you are being such a whore, you're gonna get what you deserve!" you said while smirking.

With that, you shoved your cock all the way down Wonyoung's throat. She gagged and struggled against you, but you are too strong for her. "That's it! Take my cock!"

Wonyoung felt your cock twitch in her throat.

"Uuuuugh!" you moaned. "I'm cumming!" as you feel your climax quickly approaching.

She gagged and choked on your cock, but she kept sucking. "Swallow it!" you are holding her head tightly. Ropes of thick cum burst inside Wonyoung's mouth, after a while your orgasm stopped.

"I'm swhallow-ing yhour chum!" she's trying to speak while her mouth is still full of your load. You released your grip on her hair, and let go of her head. She swallows your cum and licks her lips like she just tasted something delicious. "It's yummy!!!"

"Now suck my cock clean!" Wonyoung smiled and licked your cock clean. "Now get on your hands and knees."

She quickly got onto her hands and knees. you grabbed hold of her hips and prepared to thrust yourself deep inside her ass. Teasing her with your tip, she quiver. Looks like she's sensitive now.

You proceed on penetrating the young idol. "Ahhhhh!" she moaned.

"Oh yeah, you like that don't you?" asking her while kissing the back of her neck.

"Yes! Fuck me hard!" she's moaning as you thrust in her in a slow pace.

"Do you want to get fucked hard?" You asked.

"Yes!" she replied, looking back at you.

"Say it again!" you demanded.

"I like to get fucked hard!" Wonyoung said. You started to pound her hard from behind.

"Ahhh! Shiiiit! FUCK!" Wonyoung moaned.

"Yeah, you like that huh?"

"Yes! Fuck me harder!" Wonyoung said moaning and screaming.

"You like being fucked hard? You like getting fucked by me?" You said.

"Yes!" she said, her face is full of lust as she looks back at you.

"Say it louder!" You demanded.

"I LIKE GETTING FUCKED HARD!!!" she shouted. you continued to fuck her hard from behind making lewd noises together with her lustful voice. you reached around and grabbed her breasts. "Oh yeah! Grab my tits!" she screamed. "You like my big cock in your tight little ass?"

"Yes! Fuck me harder!" she said. "Shit! Claim me, claim me as yours!!"

You continue pounding her making her convulse as you cum inside of her tight little asshole. You saw her face and her eyes were rolled back, she collapses on the couch inside this room with her ass hanging in the air. She's still on her performance stage outfit and the only missing is her panties that you removed few moments ago.

Pulled out of her and slapped her ass. "Turn over! I'm not done with you."

She flipped over and laid on her back to spread her legs. "Now show me that tight little cunt of yours."

She lifted her skirt up to reveal her shaved pussy.

"Oh yeah, look at that tight little cunt!" You exclaimed. "Show me how wet you are!"

Wonyoung began rubbing her clit. "Ahhh!" she moaned while her eyes were intently looking at you.

"Yeah, rub that clit!" you uttered. "Do you want me to fuck your pussy?"

"Yes sir! Please fuck me hard!" Wonyoung begged, her voice is full of lust and longing. She looks like a bitch in heat.

"How hard do you want it?"

"Hard! Harder than you've ever fucked anyone before!" Wonyoung said. You grabbed hold of her wrists and held them above her head.

"Are you ready?" you asked.

"Yes!"

"Are you sure?" Teasing her on purpose.

"Yes! I'm sure!" she said while nodding, eager to fill your cock inside her.

"Then tell me what you want!"

"Fuck me!"

"What else?" You asked as you cupped her cheek with a gentle touch, she closes her eyes because of it and slowly opens it again, looking at you with resolve.

"I want your big cock deep inside my pussy!" Amusement filled your entire system as you see this young woman beg for your cock.

"Say it louder!" Fascinated by her words, you asked for more. You want her to beg for more.

"Fuck me! Fuck me with your big hard cock!" she begged while anticipating your response to her whims.

You placed the tip of your cock against her pussy lips.

"Good girl!" you patted her head. "I'm going to fuck you now!"

You penetrated the glistening cunt of hers, slowly yet in one go. Her mouth formed "O" as she feels her tight little pussy getting filled by your cock, her eyes were once again rolled back as you pound her faster and with more rhythm.

Her heavenly moans filled your ears as you spear her with your huge rod, the young idol is in a trance.

She's getting drunk because of your cock, her eyes rolled back, tongue lolling out, Wonyoung is displaying a perfect ahegao for you.

You became daring, you told her to call her Yujin unnie and invite her into into the isolated area where you're in.

Few minutes came by and Yujin arrived, she witness how her co-member getting fuck by someone but instead of getting shock and surprise, she immediately came inside, closed the door and locked it.

"Is this the thing you want to show me, Wonyoung?" Yujin asked Wonyoung while staring at you with a huge smile on her face. "Yes unnie! O-oppa wants you to j-join me. Aaahh!" Wonyoung replied struggling to say her words.

"I can't believe this is happening... But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious..." Wonyoung and Yujin look at each other. "Okay, I'll do it. I've never done anything like this before though...."

Then you pulled out of Wonyoung and the two of them knelt down in front of you, Wonyoung takes the lead and starts licking up and down the shaft while Yujin watches.

"See, just start slow like this." Wonyoung takes your tip in her mouth and sucks it gently. "Mmm. Your turn now."

Yujin leans in hesitantly and licks the head of your cock. "How's that feel? I-- no, we want to make you feel good." Then they take turns sucking you, gazing up for your praise and approval.

You praise them and they smile excitedly and continued taking turns licking and sucking your cock.

"Mmm. I can't believe I'm sharing you with Yujin... It's naughty but so hot..." Wonyoung said, Yujin gets more into it, trying to take your huge cock deeper in her mouth.

"That's it, you're a natural..." Wonyoung then proceeds to lick your balls while the other is busy gagging and choking on your cock.

They sometimes kiss, moaning on each other's lips. "Does it turns you on to see us being intimate? We want to please you." Wonyoung said to you and made an eye contact with Yujin while they lick your tip together, their tongues slides on your shaft's both sides.

Wonyoung's eyes go wide as you grab Yujin and starts fucking her throat. "Oh my gosh! Be gentle with her, Oppa."

Yujin gags and sputters but keeps taking it. "That's it. Breathe through your nose... You can handle it!" She encourages her then rub her back soothingly. "It feels so good doesn't? Getting used like a little fucktoy..." Yujin moans affirmatively as you keep pumping into her mouth.

Even though your cock can't be deepthroated by anyone, having the half of it gets to experience it feels heavenly. Sometimes you wonder, is being well-endowed a curse because you can't fully experience the 'Deepthroat' or a blessing to make women compliment you for being 'Huge'

"Fuck! This is so hot watching you use her face." Wonyoung said and reach down and touch herself, she's getting extra wet from the sight.

"I want you to fuck my throat next, i want my turn again like earlier." Eagerly awaits her turn, kissing Yujin's face when you finally pulls out of her mouth.

You gave Wonyoung her wish and fucks her throat again. Her eyes widen then gag as you shove your cock down her throat without warning.

"Mmmph!" Her throat bulges from your girth. Yujin watches excitedly, playing with herself now too as you fuck Wonyoung's face.

"That's right, give it to our little slut... She loves being used hard, i can tell..." Yujin said while still playing with herself.

Tears run down on Wonyoung's face but you can feel that she's focus on relaxing her throat for you. "Fuck yes.... S-so d-deep... Use m-me..." Then grips on your thighs eagerly, addicted to the feeling of being facefucked. You pull out and she gasp for air desperately.

"Yes... fuck my mouth as hard as you want, I'm your little cocksleeve..." She opens her mouth wide again waiting for you to fill her throat once more.

"Yujin, film this." You said while still facefucking Wonyoung.

Yujin's eyes lights up to your idea. "Of course! This is so naughty, i love it!" She pulls out her phone and starts filming as you ruthlessly fuck Wonyoung's throat. "Oh my god! This is so fucking hot... The fans would go crazy if they saw our Wony getting used like a whore."

Wonyoung glances at the camera with desperation and lust in her eyes, her throat bulging obscenely.

"Fuck yes, destroy her throat... I know she's going to be slut the moment I saw her when we're doing Produce 101." Yujin said zooming on Wonyoung's face turning red and tears running down her cheeks.

"Scream if you can still take it." You pull out your cock from Wonyoung's mouth for a moment.

"YES DADDY! PLEASE FUCK MY SLUTTY LITTLE MOUTH!!!" Wonyoung screams eagerly before you shove your cock back in.

Many minutes passed and you are closing to the edge. "Yujin, kneel beside her, continue filming. I'm cumming." You said.

Yujin kneels next to Wonyoung, making sure to get a good view as you reach climax. "That's right, cum all over these slutty idol's faces!"

Wonyoung braces herself as your cock throbs, then you pull out and shoot ropes of hot cum across both of their faces and open mouths.

"Oh my god, yes!" They moan as your load splatters them. Yujin, films eagerly as Wonyoung licks some off her cheek and swallows it.

"Thank you Daddy, for the tasty reward. We love being showered in your hot and thick cum." Wonyoung said and they started kissing and licking each other clean, moaning at the taste of your seed.

You hold the camera as they face it getting ready to say something.... "We hope you enjoyed using your little cumdumps... We're yours anytime you want us again, Daddy!" Wonyoung said and Yujin agreed then blows a sticky cum-covered kiss at the camera as you end the recording.

"Daddy, I want our co-members to watch this. Is that okay?" Wonyoung asked.

"It would be so hot to watch this later together with our other members. Imagine their faces!" Yujin smirks and Wonyoung giggles.

You let them do whatever they want with the footage since it's Yujin's phone.

"Gaeul's eyes would go so wide! And Rei would turn the brightest red." They both giggles at their plan and you just shook your head.

Your commanding tone when you drag Wonyoung into the room vanished since now she won't say anything to anyone. She's yours now together with Yujin.

"We want more... Daddy." Wonyoung take my hand flirtatiously. "I want to get fucked again, you said you are not done with me after you came inside my tight little asshole earlier." Begging for your cock again.

You oblige. "All fours." That's all you need to say and she gasp excitedly.

"Oh yes please! I want you so badly!" she quickly get on all fours, arching her back and looking over her shoulder at me. "Like this? I'm ready for you to fuck me nice and hard..." reaches back and lift her skirt revealing once again her glistening cunt.

Yujin began filming again but not including your face since you didn't say so. "That's it Wony! Beg for it, like the slut you are."

"Please Daddy, fuck me!" She presented her pussy to me by arching her back even more. You spread her ass cheeks apart and slowly slid your huge rod inside her crying cunt.

Yujin zooms in as you penetrate her members pussy. "My god!"

Wonyoung whimpers as pussy get's stretched out because of your thick girth. "Oh! Fuck, you're so b-big Daddy!"

As you go in and out, she started taking your cock actively, pushing her ass back to take you deeper. "Yes! Fuck your little cockslut! Ruin me please!"

Yujin captures every moment, biting her lip. "Our fans would lose their minds if they saw this!"

"Too bad I'm the only one who gets to fuck you likes this." You said and piston the young idol beneath you.

Wonyoung cry out as you start pounding her pussy hard and fast. "Oh fuck yes! You're the only one who gets to fuck me-- us like t-this!"

Yujin zooms in on your cock slamming in and out of Wonyoung's pussy. "Damn! Look at that tight hole stretch... you're destroying her."

The idol grips the sofa, eyes rolling back and tongues lolling out as you rail her without mercy. "YES YES YES! HARDER DADDY! USE ME!" she reaches back and spread her cheeks widely. "I'm your personal fucktoy! None of those pathetic fanboys deserve me."

Her moans filled the room, as it did earlier. You pulled Wonyoung's hair back as you fuck her intensely. "Film her face." You said.

Yujin quickly moves in front of Wonyoung, focusing on her face as you pull the young idol's hair. "Shit! Look at her face! Our Wony is totally lost in pleasure!" Her eyes rolled back, tongue lolling out as you utterly ravage her pussy.

"Fuck! Yes! Harder!" Drool runs down her chin. "Cum inside me! Please fill me with your virile cum! I need it so bad!!" Shameless, slutty words spills out from her mouth between moans and screams of ecstasy.

"I'm cumming!" You feels your climax closing in and you spank her ass red while still pulling her hair. She screams out because what you did.

"Yes! Please c-cum inside Daddy! Fill up your fucktoy!" She said and Yujin makes sure to get a close up as you drive deep inside Wonyoung one last time.

The latter feels your cock throbbing as you start to cum. "Yes, give it to me. Pump your seed deep inside of me." Her eyes still rolled back and moaning whorishly as you fill her up, and her cumming as well. You pulled out and your mixed loads leaks out of her pussy to her thighs, she lays on her back on the sofa.

"Oh shit! Look at her belly, it's bulging! You came so much inside her." Yujin said while filming the thoroughly used Wonyoung.

"It's my turn now, right?" She said and looks at me. "But I want my turn to be filmed as well, let's wait for Wony to regain at least the strength to stand up."

And so you waited, after 15 minutes Wonyoung stood up and the afterglow covers her entire aura, the feeling of satisfaction really shows.

This time you are going to do Missionary, because you want to watch Yujin's face as you fuck her.

She lays on the sofa waiting for your cock to ravage her. "Don't worry, you are going to love it. I promise!" Wonyoung said cheering her up while holding Yujin's phone, ready to start recording the slutty moments of her co-member.

There is no need for foreplay since Yujin is already soaking wet, she moans as you start to push inside her pussy hole. "Oh fuck! Y-you feel so good s-stretching me open!" looking at you lustfully.

"You're so fucking d-deep! You are hitting all the places that my boyfriend can't even reach." You are taken back because she have a boyfriend but instead of being guilty, you plow her hard making her scream.

"Take my cock!"

"Yes! Give it to me! Your cock feels so good!!!" Her perky tits bounce with each of your powerful thrusts. Wonyoung make sure to get close ups of your thick shaft pounding Yujin's slick hole.

"You won't feel your boyfriend's thing anymore after I'm done with you."

Yujin's eyes widen at your words. "O-oh fuck, you're r-right! My boyfriend's cock is nothing compared to yours!" Her pussy clenches tightly around you as she gets closer to orgasm. "After feeling this, I'll only crave you fucking me from now on! Ruin me f-for any o-other man!"

Wonyoung focuses the camera to Yujin's pussy as you pound her relentlessly. "Damn! Look at that slutty idol pussy clamping down... I think she's ready to cum all over your cock Daddy!"

"Yes! Please l-let me c-cum! Make me y-yours!" Her moans reach a fever pitch. "Oh fuck yes! I-i'm cumming! I'm cumming just for you!" Her body trembles and spasms wildly, pussy gushing around your pistoning cock.

"I'm cumming as well!"

Yujin's eyes go wide as she feels your cock throbbing and swelling bigger inside her. "Oh g-god yes, cum in me! I want to feel you filling me up!" She rubs her belly, feeling it bulge obscenely from the size your cock and load. "I can feel you in my stomach! There's so much and it feels so warm..."

Wonyoung zooms in as some of your thick cum leaks out around your shaft while still deep inside Yujin. "Holy shit! Look at that creampie! You totally filled Yujin up to the brim!"

Yujin moans, still trembling from the force of her orgasm. " (IVE) never felt so full... So completely owned and fucked, my boyfriend can't even make me cum. I'm definitely addicted to your huge cock now..."

You're sitting on the sofa while the other two is in front of you kneeling....

Then they have a discussion about how big your rod is. "Daddy, your cock is incredible! (IVE) never seen anything so big and thick before." Wonyoung said and she reaches out your still erect cock and strokes it. "It's easily over 10 inches.... I felt so stretched and filled when you were inside me. Seriously, our poor little pussies didn't stand a chance!"

Yujin looks at me. "Having this huge cock fuck me was the most intense and pleasurable experience of my life." She kisses the tip softly. "I know I'll be craving having my pussy absolutely ruined by it again and again... I'll need this anaconda forever."

"Don't have sex with your boyfriend for now, he'll for sure know that you got stretched out."

Yujin nods obediently. "You're absolutely right, Daddy. After being stretched out so much by your huge cock, my boyfriend would definitely be able to tell." She looks down submissively. "I should avoid having sex with him for now, My pussy belongs to you now... I don't want anyone else inside me."

"Yeah, look at that gape! Her boyfriend would get lost in there now!" Wonyoung giggles at her statement making Yujin blush. "Once you go big, there's no going back..."

-

Well... Here's another story, I hope you enjoy this kind of format. I'm more comfortable writing this way cuz of my lack of imagination.... Thank you for reading!!! There is another part after this....

#kpop smut #smut #kpop fic #wonyoung smut #yujin smut #IVE smut

[heesdreamer]

ECHOES OF RIOT

PAIRING ➩ heeseung x reader

SUMMARY ➩ falling inlove with a rockstar is never easy, especially when he returns to your hometown on a successful tour three years after you lost contact

WARNINGS ➩ this is like straight up angst… romance but mostly angst lol.. drug use, some violence, idk can’t really remember this is ridiculously long

WC ➩ 19.1k

AUTHORS NOTE ➩ well this took me forever lol.. i don’t have much to say i just hope you like it. NOT PROOFREAD normally written at 4am lol the usual.. also side note one of the main characters was chaeyoung and i changed her to heejin for obvious reasons so if you see any of her name left over that’s my mistake and that’s why.

You weren’t exactly sure how you ended up like you did, so meek and quiet to the point that it was an actual hinderance on your daily activities.

If you were born like that, just one of those kids that was too shy to talk to their classmates and hid behind their moms legs on the first day of school, you’d completely understand but you’d actually been nearly the opposite for your entire life.

Maybe it was an accumulation of always feeling like you were taking up too much space, being on the receiving end of quick glares from teachers when you lacked volume control or seeing the hesitance on your friends parents faces when they excitedly asked if you could come over for a sleepover. Mixed with your own sudden self awareness going into high school.

You quickly realized that it wasn’t the loud girls getting asked out on dates and it was an almost immediately decline into self intrusion once you made this discovery.

It wasn’t like you necessarily wanted to be asked out by anybody, physically recoiling as your friends gossiped about the mass appointed hottest guys at your school and turning up your nose when they made sleazy attempts to flirt and court the other girls around you, but it felt embarrassing to be constantly left out of romantic group hangouts or discussions about experiences you’d never had.

Still, you had managed to keep a solid group of friends despite your newfound habit of self isolating and they only halfway judged you for your tendency to stay in on the weekends.

On the other half however, they weren’t so forgiving, hence why you were currently stood outside a low scale concert venue shivering so hard you were worried you’d chip a tooth. You were pulling your zip up hoodie tighter around your body and sending glares to your friends who were chatting animatedly about the band they were going to see.

Apparently it was composed of some boys around your age, not attending your school but well known enough that they had been invited to some of your friends parties and events and eventually your friend group had been given tickets to one of their shows.

You weren’t the biggest fan of crowds in general but especially concert goers and you’d been promised that this one would be chill and relaxing, something you automatically knew was a lie the second you left the cab and saw the attire of everybody around you. The line was buzzing with energy and adrenaline and you could hear the acts doing soundcheck from inside, music loud and heavy.

It was freezing and as much as you were dreading being pushed into a crowd with jabbing elbows and sweat rolling off their skin onto yours, you were ready to get out of the line as more and more snow kept falling down onto the uncaring crowd.

“Aren’t you excited?” Your head was turning at the sound of a soft voice coming from your right and you smiled softly at one of your calmer friends.

“Sure Sunoo. It’ll be fun.” You were replying quickly, not needing them to feel awkward or guilty about bringing you just because you didn’t necessarily want to come. You figured he could tell you were lying by the pity filled look he gave you but he didn’t call you out for it.

He didn’t say anything else for a second and he didn’t get a chance before the doors were opening and the line was surging forward, already getting your tickets checked while you waited and turning into a blob of people and excitement all trying to squeeze into the single door.

You were groaning softly at the feeling of being jostled around but you couldn’t help but laugh at the fact all of your friends were linking arms and declaring to stay together, slightly envious of the pure delight on their faces whilst your heart was starting to ache from the anxious way it was pounding. You let yourself be dragged through the crowd by them, closing your eyes for a second when you pushed through the tightest areas and just allowing them to guide you through it.

The venue was more so just a bar with a small stage but your friends had told you that these were the best types of places to see a show at, intimate and ear shattering loud.

They’d said the last half with an enthusiastic giggle but you had winced softly at the image of how close you’d be to the large speakers that you now saw adorning the stage. It was dark in the building and your shoes were sticking to the floor beneath you, lights turned a deep glowing green and something more casual playing over the speakers to fill the silence.

You’d followed behind them as they found a spot near the bar, safely tucked away from the crowd and planning to wait out the opening acts here to preserve their energy. They all agreed to push into the crowd once the main band came out and try to get as close as they possibly could, looking over at you for acceptance and all smiling and patting your back when you gave a sheepish nod.

It wasn’t that bad and you were quickly getting used to it, the thick cloud of cigarette smoke settling over you and only making you slightly dizzy now.

You felt a bit embarrassed and out of place but everybody else was too excited or drunk to notice that you weren’t exactly in the most appropriate attire. Sunoo had shot you a questioning glance when you’d gotten into the shared cab but you only just now realized you weren’t fitting in with the rest of the crowd or your friends even slightly.

The difference between you and them was even more evident when the owner of the bar was stepping onto stage and excitedly announcing the first artists, all your friends cheering and holding onto each other while you sat and watched from one of the bar stools.

You were still able to have fun as you watched them, smiling softly at the way they kept instinctively moving forward together as the music started and they screamed the lyrics. You didn’t recognize the songs that the band was covering but you knew enough about music to tell it sounded amazing, watching them closely as they skillfully played off of each other and got the crowd properly amped up.

You’d never really understood the purpose behind opening acts but you were getting it now considering you were feeling more and more excited for the main band as you kept watching.

Then more time had passed and the crowd had entered that stage of being too excited and too intoxicated to really understand boundaries and limits, a few fights breaking out that your friends didn’t bat an eye at but you were starting to feel a really deep pit building in your stomach.

It only worsened when somebody was hurriedly, and messily, approaching the bar and demanding another drink as he anxiously looked behind him at where you presumed his spot in the crowd was. You were watching him out of the corner of your eye as he ordered, feeling him swaying drunkenly closer to you and wanting to make sure he didn’t accidentally tip over and knock you out of your seat.

Your intuition was astoundingly accurate considering it wasn’t long before somebody else was approaching the man and leaning into his side, sending the both of them tilting over in your direction.

You’d just managed to hop off the bar seat before they were slamming into it but with the speed in which you’d jumped off combined with the sticky floor underneath you, you were skidding forward and landing roughly on your side against the ground.

Neither man seemed coherent enough to notice you had fallen from the height and you could hear them drunkenly laughing with each other from above you. Your friends hadn’t noticed the altercation either and you quickly frowned at the nasty sensation under your hands before you were standing up and swiftly adjusting your skirt.

You were rushing back out towards the entrance before anybody could notice your disappearance, pushing back through the door and immediately being hit by the cold air as the snow continued to build up on the ground. You were sighing and bending down to pick some of it off the sidewalk, rubbing it in your hands and trying to clean them off the best you could with the wetness.

“You’re going to miss the main act.”

You were jumping at the sound of a voice coming from behind you, standing up swiftly and turning around to see somebody leaning against the building and taking a long drag from whatever it was that he was smoking.

“Oh.. yeah I know I just.. had something on my hands.” You were mumbling out towards him and indicating awkwardly at the snow in your hands, realizing how weird it must’ve looked from his angle.

He was laughing softly at your explanation and your face flushed in embarrassment again for the sixth time that night, taking in his attire and knowing he’d be able to tell right away that you weren’t exactly supposed to be here. He was tall, would be even taller if he was standing up straight and it was especially accentuated by the tight fit of his ripped black jeans. You couldn’t see his face super clearly from where he was stood underneath the shaky lights but his hair was messy and in his eyes and you thought you saw a piercing or two shining on his face.

“Who dragged you here?” He was suddenly asking and you froze up again as you looked at him, eyes darting down to his feet for a second nervously.

“My friends got tickets and I couldn’t get out of it.” You were telling him softly and shrugging a bit. A car was driving past on the empty road and you waited for the sounds of the snow crunching under its tires to quiet before you finished. “From the band actually.”

You look back at him just in time to see his eyebrows lift in surprise and then settle into recognition, your own shifting forward in furrowed confusion. The boy was taking a step off the wall then and flicking his cigarette somewhere off near the road, your eyes following the still burning ember as it flew through the air before circling back to him.

“I’ll see you inside then.” His tone was one of a statement and not a question but you were still slightly confused despite the fact you habitually nodded at him.

You let out a big sigh once he was leaving finally, weirdly going through the alley towards what you could only assume was a side entrance and not the door right next to him. It quickly slipped your mind and you decided to wait for the previous act to finish up before you also headed back in.

You crouched back down closer to the snow and continued to try and clean off your hands and parts of your sleeves that had gotten stained from whatever substances were on the floor. The cold was sending waves of shivers through you but you simply ignored the uncomfortable feeling, especially since you figured you’d warm up quickly once you headed back inside.

Eventually you could hear the second opening act thanking the crowd for their intense energy before the familiar voice of the bar owner was back, this time more excited as he announced that the main band was finally coming out on to the stage.

You sighed softly again to yourself before stomping the slush off your boots and heading back through the door, once again being hit by the tight atmosphere that was a lot more sweaty than when you had first walked in and was now practically buzzing with adrenaline.

It was harder than you had planned for to get back to your seat and you almost gave up and just resided to the back of the building but once the band members were finally on stage the crowd surged forward, a gap in the mass of people slightly opened up and you were hurrying through it back towards where your friends had been. They were gone now but you had expected that, knowing they must likely went closer to the stage.

You were just barely settling back into an empty stool when the band was coming out on stage and you frowned when you realized you could barely see them, sitting up slightly and freezing up when you got a better view.

One of the boys was standing center stage and speaking into the mic, presumably introducing them to the crowd who was cheering the loudest they had all night, but your gaze was drifting a few feet to his right to where one of the guitarist was standing.

You immediately recognized him as the boy from outside, a wave of embarrassment washing over you as you remembered how you had been less than enthusiastic about coming and had told him the band invited you and your friends. His surprised expression was making sense to you now and you would’ve turned to face palm if you weren’t stuck staring at him.

He was scanning the crowd for a few seconds and your eyes widened a touch when he was looking in your direction, stopping his wandering gaze as a soft smirk started to build up on his lips.

You were glancing around you to see if there was anything else he could be looking at and then feeling your face heat up alarmingly fast when you realized there wasn’t and he definitely recognized you from your awkward encounter outside.

Then they were starting to play and you were frozen for other reasons, your eyes locked on him and his frame as he started to open the song slow and soft. It wasn’t the type of music you had expected from them just based off of appearance and you were completely transfixed by the way they skillfully moved with their respective instruments, the boys behind the mics voice coming through now.

The crowd was swaying along with the gentle music, calming down into a low buzz like they were being completely controlled by the bands sound and energy.

You sat frozen like that for the entirety of the first song, mouth slightly parted in surprise and watching the boy you’d seen outside as he continued to play. You didn’t know much about guitars but you could tell he was good, his louder than the others and ringing out clear even underneath the distorted vocals.

He wasn’t looking at you anymore because he wasn’t looking at anything at all, leaning back and keeping his eyes shut as he played them through the final half of the first song. He was rocking along with his strums and he seemed just as into it and transfixed as the rest of the building was.

The first song slowed to a stop and you heard the vocalist laugh softly into the mic before he was glancing behind him towards where the drummer was sitting. You watched them curiously as they nodded at eachother in silent communication, amazed at how casual and relaxed they seemed to be in front of all of these people.

“Obviously we know what you’re all here for.” The lead vocalist was speaking into the mic with a small smile and the two guitarist start to build up the intro of the next song. “Watch your elbows and try not to knock anyone out.”

He was laughing as he finished his lighthearted warning but you watched as the crowd surged with excitement and started to move around, coming to life in sync like they were all the same creature and you felt a bit sick at how tight and moving it was quickly becoming. He was starting to sing again in a lower tone and even though the song was still bordering on calm, you could feel it building up along with the energy in the room.

It was closer to what you had expected their music to sound like and although it wasn’t necessarily something you’d keep on during your downtime, you couldn’t help but feel a bit giddy at the way the entire crowd reacted to the explosive chorus.

The drummers voice was rasping underneath the main vocalist now and you quickly understand their previous communication, a smile building on your face as you watched the guitarist from outside staring at them with an unfiltered excitement.

They played more songs and you continued to sit and watch them unmoving, your eyes mostly transfixed on the boy with the guitar until the end of their set. You’d never seen somebody play the way he did and you almost felt like you had no choice but to watch him considering how captivating he looked on stage. Eventually they were shouting their goodbyes towards the crowd and accepting thrown gifts and hands reaching out for contact, all except for the guitarist considering he was just watching and smiling at the crowd for a distance.

You were still watching them as they left the stage and disappeared back into the restricted part of the building, not even noticing when your friends were excitedly bounding back over to you.

“That was fucking awesome.” Heejin was wrapping her arm around your shoulder and shaking you enthusiastically, sweat lining her dyed hair now and making her tattoos glisten under the now red lighting.

“Jungwon somehow sounds 100 times better in person.” You turned your head to see Sunoo coming to sit next to you with an impressed look on his face, shaking his head in disbelief and still watching the empty stage like you were a few moments ago. “Plus I didn’t know Jake could sing like that.”

“He sang at that school event remember? Before Jay got him into drumming.” Riki was quickly explaining and taking a swig of a water bottle he was carrying, still slightly out of breath from the tight and hot crowd.

You watched them talk animatedly about the show with a soft smile and fondness, you were glad they had fun even if you were originally hesitant to come out with them. It had been better than you’d expected and you still felt a little rush of excitement under your skin when you thought about how loud and beautiful the music had been. You’d completely forgotten about falling on the floor or any mishap.

“Are you ready to go then? We don’t want to keep them waiting, they’re probably super tired.” Joonie was turning to smile at you and await your response but her grin faltered when she saw the heavy look of confusion gracing your features. “You didn’t ask her?”

She was moving her head to give an accusatory stare towards the others and Sunoo winced softly at the harshness in her glare. Riki was sighing and scratching the back of his neck before answering. “We figured we’d ask her after she saw them… maybe she’d be more inclined to say yes.”

“Say yes to what?” You were quickly butting in, slightly frustrated that they were talking around you like you weren’t sat right there watching the entire thing.

“The band wanted us to come over to their place after the show.” Heejin was answering hesitantly, watching you with an expectant look like she was already prepared for you to shut them down.

You can’t deny that the thought immediately crossed your mind, beyond used to rejecting hangouts instinctively especially ones that were so small and intimate with people you didn’t know.

Then you were thinking about the way they had performed and how you had felt seeing them have so much fun on the stage, like they never cared about taking up too much space and they certainly weren’t concerned with ever being too loud. You were pausing for a few seconds to think about it even though you already felt like your mind had been made up, meeting your friends waiting stares and giving them a soft nod of approval.

——

You had quickly come to regret your accepting nod on your way to meet up with the boys, packed into a cab with your friends who still vaguely smelled like the inside of the venue and conjoined sweat.

They still seemed excited so you were trying your best to not be a visible mood killer but you were getting more and more anxious the closer you got to where you’d be meeting, not even exactly sure what type of environment you were going into.

It got even worse when the cab was pulling to a stop in front of a house tucked neatly in a lower class suburban area, the dread of having to make small talk in such an intimate setting like one the boys house was making your stomach turn with nausea. You sucked it up and followed behind your friends with held breath, listening as the door opened and they excitedly greeted whoever it was that was behind it.

You eventually filed through and when it was your turn to pass through the doorway, you realized it was Jake who had opened it.

You recognized him from school events like Riki had mentioned before, not attending yours but a few times a year the neighboring schools held community shows and events to bring the area closer together and scout for grants and sponsorships. You distinctly remember Jake sitting on the stage a few years back, looking beyond nervous as he softly strung his acoustic guitar and sang a song that had slipped your memory by now.

It was a striking opposition to what you’d seen him do tonight, both the fact he had been singing so hard his voice was scratching underneath Jungwon’s softer tone and the way he was slamming down on the drums so hard you had been worried he’d break something.

He had a certain buzzing energy to him that helped this make sense, watching him now as he excitedly bounced around your friends like a loose dog as he guided them towards another doorway. You figured he was more full of bottled up excitement over any actual aggressiveness and you continued to silently follow behind them.

You were a bit surprised to be led down to a small finished basement, carefully walking down the carpeted steps and feeling weirdly like you’d been transported back to your own home with how familiar the area looked.

There was a small red light connected to the door with tape and you imagined it was to signal that some sort of recording was going on, a small smile playing up on your face at the irony of the devoted after band having such a simple setup. The smile was immediately slipping off when you were hearing your friends start up rounds of greeting again and you paled with nerves.

“That’s Y/N, she doesn’t talk much.” Riki was quickly saying and you were half grateful he had saved you from awkwardly stuttering out your name and half furious as all sets of eyes turned to look in your direction.

You recognized the lead singer first, looking a lot less intimidating now that he was sitting on the sofa in more comfortable clothes and letting his purple mullet air dry from what you could only assume was a post show shower. You knew his name was Jungwon just from hearing your friends rambles and you filled in the blanks for the rest of the names.

Jay was almost more intimidating off stage than he was on it, losing that playful and excited energy that being in front of a crowd brought and falling into an almost scary silence. If it wasn’t for the gentle way he was picking at an acoustic guitar, a stark difference to the black and shining electric one you’d seen him with on stage.

Your eyes were drifting over to the final person in the room who was busy chatting with Heejin and staring excitedly at her newest tattoos, his hands hovering over her skin but not touching directly like an excited child. Sunoo had told you on the way here that Sunghoon played bass and whilst you weren’t exactly sure what that meant, he seemed the most approachable out of the group.

Minus the member you’d already accidentally approached but he was missing from the current area and you felt a wave of relief rushing through you considering how embarrassed you’d felt seeing him on stage.

You almost fell into autopilot and you listened to the two groups mix and talk casually like they were lifelong friends, an overwhelming feeling of envy sitting in your stomach considering the fact they were so easily able to hold conversation with each other whilst you struggled to even introduce yourself.

Jay had gotten up to put on a record at some point and that made you feel slightly more at ease considering there was no more room for awkward silence, something a lot calmer than what they’d played earlier ringing through the room as they all lounged in different places and started to smoke amongst each other.

Your friends didn’t bother offering any to you considering you had a tendency to say no, not necessarily against smoking or being high but the intimacy of sharing a blunt mixed with the performance anxiety as it was passed around the circle almost on instinct. The other boys must’ve gotten the hint without it needing to be said and they also didn’t try to get you to smoke, leaving you relieved that they weren’t the types to poke fun at you or try to pressure you into it.

It was a lot easier for you to just watch them and get a small contact high, sinking down into your spot on the couch more and relaxing as they started to lose focus and definitely lose the ability to care if you were being awkward.

You were pressed against the side of the sofa even though nobody was sat directly near you, still trying to ensure you were taking up as little space on the furniture as possible in case somebody else wanted to sit or you were simply just in the way. You were grateful you’d developed this habit considering the door to the basement was opening again and you froze up as the light shone in from the top of the stairs.

“Finally, the chosen one has arrived.” Jake was yelling excitedly from somewhere you couldn’t see, laying flat on the carpet behind the round ottoman and you could only barely catch a glimpse of his arms being thrown up in mock praise.

You were staring at the stairs as the boot covered feet started to descend down and you knew who it was before he even reached the point where you could see his upper half, freezing even more at the way his eyes scanned over the unfamiliar faces in the basement before pausing on you.

You awkwardly pulled your sleeves over your hands and glanced back over at Sunoo was sitting in the chair closest to you and the couch, talking to Sunghoon about something you couldn’t quite make it out considering anxiety was fully building up now and you were slightly disoriented from the overstimulation in the room.

Much to your dismay and attempts to stop yourself, your eyes were drifting back over to the boy and you almost groaned when you realized he was still watching you.

Heeseung had, according to Joonie on the way here, been the one to originally start up the band and convince the others to take it as seriously as he did. He was the lead guitarist first and foremost but he dabbled in almost everything, including producing all of their original songs and covers and apparently forfeiting his basement as their studio considering the younger photos of him scattered around the walls.

His baby pink hair was in his face even more now than it had been when you’d saw him smoking outside, littered with random blonde patches that told you he had done it himself, and now you were positive he had multiple piercings throughout his face.

It was only getting worse for you when he was making his way over to the couch and taking the empty middle seat, directly next to you.

You were sat with your feet up on the fabric and hugging your knees close to your chest but you imagined if you’d been sat normally then your thighs would be press against his that had lost the tight ripped jeans and were now sporting some more casual black sweatpants.

“You want this Hee?” Sunghoon was saying from where he was sat on the floor besides Sunoo on the chair.

You glanced over to the boy just in time to see him shake his head in denial and a wave of surprise and relief washed over you, grateful you wouldn’t be the only one not smoking anymore. “You don’t smoke?” Riki was asking and Heeseung seemed to instinctively shake his head no.

Jay snorted out a half laugh half scoff and you watched the pink haired boy shoot him a sharp glare before his eyes were drifting over to you, almost like he was checking your reaction. Your eyebrows were furrowed forward in confusion, wondering why he was lying about smoking, he must’ve forgotten the fact you’d seen him outside with a cigarette only a few hours before.

Everybody fell back into their own individual conversations again and you started to relax finally, listening to the music playing softly in the smoke filled room.

“So did you end up liking it then?” Heeseung’s voice was coming from beside you and you looked over towards him with widened eyes, not expecting him to directly address you.

“W-what?” You were stuttering out and then immediately flushing in embarrassment when a concerned look passed over his intimidating face. He seemed nice enough but your closed mind couldn’t look past the piercings and the eyeliner still staining around his large eyes.

“The show.” He was quickly explaining, looking slightly embarrassed himself that you hadn’t understood what he was talking about. “You didn’t seem too excited when you were outside.”

You froze up in your spot considering he was directly referencing the conversation you’d had outside, in which you had told him begrudgingly and in complaint that you hadn’t been able to get out of going to the show that he was performing at. You didn’t respond for a few seconds and you were grateful that everybody was too stoned to keep up with your awkward conversation.

“It was… you guys were very..” You trailed off when you saw the expectant look on his face and you cleared your throat a bit, eyes darting down to the double piercings going through the thin skin of his lips and then back up to his eyes. “It was cool.”

“Just cool?” His lip was curling softly up into a half smirk at your extremely vague answer, shifting in his place on the couch so he was facing you better and you tried not to be extremely weird about the fact his arm was resting on the back of the sofa now and therefore his hand was dangling on the other side of your shoulders.

“Super cool?” You offered in a squeaky voice, wincing as your shoulders curled in on themselves.

He laughed softly at your answer and you were relieved that he found it somewhat funny and wasn’t totally offended that you didn’t have a string of compliments prepared for him. You did like the show much more than you thought you would and if you were able to get ahold of yourself, you would’ve told him how impressed you were as you watched him play.

But you weren’t that lucky and you knew you’d be stuck giving him half true statements that didn’t actually show how you truly felt about the set, turning your head back to face forward so you didn’t have to look at his face anymore.

You weren’t exactly sure why he had come to talk to you out of everybody in the room, knowing he was obviously a lot closer to his band mates and had even hung out with your male friends a few times from your knowledge in group settings. Joonie had told you that she thought the two of you were a bit similar considering he was also rarely at social events but you highly doubted the comparison considering the way he looked performing in front of an adoring and expectant crowd.

Still, you thought about the way he hung back at the end of the final song instead of interacting with the fans like the other members had and the fact you hadn’t been surprised when he wasn’t present in the basement at first.

“Are you two actually talking to each other or just sitting in weirdo silence?” Your head was picking back up to look over at Heejin who was sitting on the other side of the couch, next to Heeseung but leaning far enough away towards Jake and Jungwon that they didn’t touch at all.

You didn’t need to look at her to know who she was referring to but your stomach dropped a little when you met her gaze and confirmed she was referring to you, the others in the room also looking over considering her statement.

Heejin was in no way mean to you and she was actually your longest friend out of the group, knowing her since middle school which meant she was around to watch your social decline. She made jokes sometimes or pushed you too far out of your comfort zone but you always took it as her way of trying to help you loosen up like she knew you could, always stopping whenever you got visibly too overwhelmed or uncomfortable.

You weren’t sure if it was the presence of people she admired or the buzz of a high settling over her that caused her to make the comment but it clearly crossed a line the two of you had silently established throughout the years, your face dropping at the unwanted attention.

“Heeseung is the master of weirdo silence.” Jake was adding on from the floor again and you could hear him giggling nonsensically, sitting up so you could see his head past the ottoman and frown at him.

“Yeah well I’d rather talk to..” Heeseung was starting harshly before trailing off and glancing over at you with a raised eyebrow. You paused for a few seconds and stared at him in confusion but realizing he was waiting for you to tell him your name, quickly whispering it to him and trying to ignore the small smile he gave you before turning back to look at the others. “I’d rather talk to Y/N than you deadbeats.”

The boys in the room were breaking out into small fits of laughters and instigating choruses of “Oo’s”. Fanning their hands out like they’d been burned and only settling down when Heeseung was rolling his eyes and sinking further into the couch.

Luckily they all seemed to let it go after that even though you were still left with a deeper pit in your stomach because of Heejin’s random dig at both you and Heeseung, roping him in to your anti social behavior and giving his own friends the opportunity to pile on top of it.

You were glancing over at him again from the corner of your eye, hesitantly shifting to try and catch his attention again. His gaze was snapping back to your face when you moved slightly and his eyebrows raised in question again, a lot softer than they had been when he was asking for your name and snapping back at your friends. You watched the way the metal balls surrounding his eyebrow stretched with the movement before licking your dry lips and speaking.

“Thanks.” The word slipped from your lips in a small breath and once again you felt disappointed that it was all you had managed to say, wishing you were able to express your gratitude to him more.

He didn’t seem to mind and his shoulders were lifting in a small shoulder, watching you curiously. “It’s no big deal. I don’t talk much either.”

“Even though you do all… that?” You were asking before you even processed the question falling from your lips and he looked equally surprised as you that you were continuing the conversation without needing prompting.

“Like perform?” His voice was lower now as you started to talk more and you had a feeling he didn’t want the others to listen in and find a way to intervene again. You gave him a soft nod, grateful he had understood your vague wording. “It’s different, I don’t really think of it like that. Sometimes I don’t even feel like I’m there in front of all those people.”

If you’d heard him say that last week or even this morning, you would’ve not fully understood what exactly he was trying to explain to you. Even now you were still a bit confused on what exactly the feeling was like but you immediately understood what he was referring to, remembering the way he was closing his eyes and leaning with the music like he was in his own world.

You must’ve fallen silent for too long as you were thinking about it and what that could possibly be like, how it would feel to live a life with that sort of overwhelming passion, because he was clearing his throat and shifting again.

“It’s like… well what do you do?” He was starting to try and find an analogy, assuming you didn’t understand and you froze up at the direct question.

“What do I do?” You were repeating back to him for clarification and he nodded earnestly, waiting to hear your answer. “I don’t think I really do anything.”

He seemed taken back by that and you were slightly embarrassed that you’d failed to answer his question properly. You’d thought about it before, being at the age where you should have something you were passionate about or a hobby that motivated you in some way.

You never really did much of anything on your own and you’d yet to find anything that gave you that sort of spark he’d be referring to, the type of spark that would cause you to do what you loved even if it meant pushing yourself past your limits or standing on a stage like you were born for it.

“What are you doing this weekend?” He was suddenly rushing out and your eyes widened in surprise again at the fact his voice had come out much louder now, like he’d forced himself to say it. You didn’t say anything for a few seconds and then you were shaking your head to signal that you weren’t doing anything set in stone. “Come to our next show.”

“To your show?” You were repeating in bewilderment and he was nodding his head quickly as he scanned over your face hesitantly, wondering if you were going to reject him. Eventually you were biting the inside of your cheek after contemplating for a while and glancing at him. “O-okay.. yeah sure.”

——

“Y/N, the phone for you.” Your mothers screaming voice was floating up the stairs and you groaned softly into your pillow, laying on your stomach and overthinking the events of the previous weekend like you had been for days.

It was pretty uneventful after your conversation with Heeseung, both falling into a silence or offering small laughs and quick glances as you listened to your friends talk and get to know each other better. He must’ve been telling the truth about not talking much because nobody looked over at him once expectantly although you noticed his band mates keeping an eye on the two of you occasionally.

Eventually you and your friends had left the basement and the pink haired boy had spared you a quick wave through the window as the taxi pulled off.

You’d listened to your friends excitedly talk the entire way back to your neighbors and pry you for details about what you’d been talking about with him, not noticing the bitter expression on your face when you noticed how surprised they seemed that he’d chosen to speak to you.

Now it was Thursday and you were thinking about it all again, replaying it over and over and finding something new to be embarrassed about each time you did. Heeseung was surprisingly soft spoken and slightly awkward considering his appearance but you knew it held no parallel to how terrible you were at socializing.

“Y/N.” Your mom was screaming again and this time you rolled over as you groaned, letting it fill the room before you were getting off your bed and heading down the stairs.

Your mom was standing there with the phone in her hand, watching you with an excited expression and your face was pulling forward in confusion as your steps hesitantly slowed to a stop. “It’s a boy.” She was whispering and pointing at the phone with a wiggle of her eyebrows.

You were snatching the phone away from her and walking around the corner into the hallways, stretching the chord as far as it could possibly go and waving a dismissive hand at your mom when she was poking her around the corner in curiosity.

“Hello?” You were breathing into the phone and it was a heavy silence for a few seconds before you could hear somebody clearing their throat on the other side.

“Hey Y/N, it’s Heeseung.” He was announcing and you froze up at the sound of his soft voice coming through your speaker, clutching the phone tighter in your hand and shifting it against your ear. “Um.. like the guitar guy.”

You were laughing softly at the fact he felt the need to specify, most likely growing nervous from your extended silence. “I know who you are Heeseung.”

“Cool… yeah cool.” He was breathing back and letting out his own nervous laugh, a small smile building on your face at how awkward he seemed now. You liked how different he was in each setting, confident and sensual on stage and casual and calm when surrounded by his friends in a familiar area. Now you were seeing what he was like on his own, mirroring a personality similar to yours.

“D-did you need something?” You tried to keep your tone light so he didn’t think you were bothered by the fact he had called despite your confusion over how he’d gotten your number or what exactly he wanted.

Your heart was racing slightly as you listened to him inhale over the phone, feeling a bit ridiculous over your own reactions but you couldn’t help but think about his soft pink hair and the piercings your mom would definitely disapprove of. She glared at Heejin’s bare skin every time she came over during the summer so you couldn’t imagine her reaction to seeing Heeseung’s group of friends.

“I was just calling to make sure you were still going to the show and Sunghoon said I should tell you to bring your friends.” He was explaining in a low tone and you could hear shushing in the background, your smile widening at the realization he was around some of his friends. “I’m pretty sure he’s just trying to convince Heejin to give him a tattoo but it would be safer anyways with more people.”

“Alright, yeah we’ll be there.” You were telling him back swiftly and you surprised yourself by how naturally it came out of your mouth, no stutter or hesitation.

“Cool.” You could almost hear the smile in his voice as he said the word again, almost repeating it like he did the first time but seemingly catching himself before he did. “I’ll see you there then?”

“Yeah… yeah you will.”

——

“So he like directly invited you.” Riki was asking for the sixth time that night and you sighed softly when he was bumping his elbow into your arm with a smile on his face, clearly excited about the recent development in your life.

“Is it that surprising?” Your tone was stiff along with your posture, somehow once again finding yourself in a cold line outside of a random concert venue downtown.

“Not at all Y/N.” Sunoo was quickly interjecting once he realized you were taking offense to their over excitement, offering him a small tired smile due to his habit of trying to make you feel better. “We are just happy for you.”

You were about to remind him that there was no reason to be happy or excited and that you and Heeseung had just gotten along, nothing else, but you were interrupted by the staff who was checking tickets approaching your group. You watched as he took a look at Riki’s and then his school ID, promptly marking his hand with a solid black X before he was turning towards you expectantly.

He was looking at your ID with a bored expression but before he was able to hand it back to you and give you a similar marking, he paused and did a double take as he looked at the words. “Y/N? You’re on the list.”

“The list?” Your voice was soft in confusion and buried under the sound of your friends excited squeals and laughters, feeling Joonie’s hands come up to squeeze your shoulders and shake you softly.

You weren’t understanding what was happening until you were being moved forward, hearing Heejin clarify that you all were allowed early entry before she was smiling brightly and practically caring you with the rest of them as you entered the venue ahead of everybody else. You felt a flush come up to your cheeks when you realized that Heeseung had clearly mentioned you to the staff of the building and that’s why you were currently skipping the line and heading towards the back of the venue.

It was a different place than last time, bigger and seemingly more concert specific in comparison to the bar you were at last time.

The staff member was leading you down a hallway until you were stopped in front of a door with chipping paint, a piece of paper stuck to it with tape and the bands name in big sharpie letters. You smiled softly at their names all scribbled around the bold font, knowing they must’ve stuck it outside themselves as a mock dressing room.

You felt a wave of anxiety rush up with the employee was knocking on the door twice before turning to head back outside and control the growing crowd but you didn’t have any time to panic before it was being thrown open.

“You came.” Heeseung’s eyes were wide as he looked down at you in surprise and you were parting your lips to answer him before your friends were impatiently pushing into the room, practically shoving you forward into him.

He helped steady you when you made a small noise of surprise and you were glancing up at him in embarrassment, face undoubtedly red considering he was holding onto your arms even once your feet were flat on the ground. “You look…”

You felt overwhelming self conscious when his gaze was dropping down, scanning over your outfit and body before meeting your eyes again. You’d mistakenly let Heejin and Joonie dress you after they practically spent two hours begging, remembering how awkward you felt being improperly dressed last time.

It felt even worse to be in clothes you weren’t at all used to or comfortable with and you couldn’t tell what Heeseung was thinking just based off his expression.

“It looks really good.” He was breathing out finally and you felt a wave of relief at his statement, and then self judgment for caring what he thought in the first place. “Are you sure you’ll be comfortable though? I have a sweater you can wear.”

You froze up slightly as he continued to speak to you in a calm voice, somehow sensing your anxiety over the outfit despite only speaking to you a few times. You were half flattered that he cared enough to lend you some clothes and half humiliated that he could tell you didn’t normally wear things like this.

He must’ve seen outfits like this on hundreds of girls every time he had a show, knowing half the crowd would be dressed similarly to you but wearing it with a confidence and aura that you severely lacked. You didn’t have an overwhelming presence like Heejin or an alluring personality like Joonie and you’d always felt bland in comparison.

You were awkwardly glancing around the makeshift dressing room and pleased to see your friends and the band engaging in their own excited conversations and not paying you any mind.

Then your gaze was landing on one of the mirrors across the room and you were freezing up when you caught sight of you and Heeseung, still standing closer than you’d thought you were with his hands touching your arms. You almost didn’t recognize yourself for a second and despite how awful the clothes felt against your skin, you couldn’t deny that you looked good standing next to him and his similar aesthetic.

“I’ll be alright.” You were turning back to him to answer his question definitively and you tried to hold eye contact with him for a second, easier considering his hair was falling into his face again.

He was wearing eyeliner like he had been the first time you’d seen him outside the venue but it was a lot bolder and messier this time, making his eyes even bigger than they already were but completely changing his energy and appearance in comparison to the version of him you’d seen in his basement.

“Are you nervous?” You weren’t sure why that was the next thing you said to him but his eyes lit up when you whispered the question, staring up at him with wide eyes and saying it so softly he almost didn’t catch it underneath the loud crowd in the distance and your friends behind him.

“I’m excited.” He was responding back and you knew he meant it, no sign of apprehension or hesitation on his face.

You’d never seen somebody look as intense as Heeseung did when he talked about performing, his entire demeanor changing from the awkward boy who you’d been speaking to, almost seeming unsure of himself after every sentence. He didn’t even seem to think at all when he spoke about music or being on stage and you watched him curiously as he rambled on about how it felt to be up there.

You figured he probably knew you wouldn’t ever be able to understand what he was talking about unless you did it yourself but you still felt giddy that he wanted to explain it to you.

He talked about it until another team member was poking his head in to let the boys know that soundcheck was about to start and then the doors would open, also being you and your friends queue to go and get spots in the front row.

“I’ll see you out there then?” He was smiling down at you and giving a gentle squeeze to your arm that he was still holding, your own breaking out on your face despite trying to withhold and you gave him a small nod of approval before he was disappearing out the door after the others.

Your friends were obviously excited for having caught the end of your interaction and although you rolled your eyes as they begun to tease you, you couldn’t rid yourself of the bright grin you were catching between your lips and you started to head back out into the hallway and towards where the crowd would be standing.

You felt okay for now but you were starting to get more and more anxious at the realization that soon the mass of people would surge inside towards you and you’d be stuck in your place against the barricade, white knuckling it as you contemplated heading to the back of the venue and watching from there instead so you wouldn’t embarrass yourself by having a panic attack right in front of the band.

“You know..” Heejin was leaning in against your side to whisper into your ear and you felt her hand squeezing your side affectionately. “Jake said that Heeseung’s never invited anybody to a show before.”

She was pulling away just in time to see your eyes widen in surprise, followed by your face flushing a bright red at the knowing look she was giving you. “Not even his family?”

You knew that the bands music wouldn’t necessarily be everybody’s personal taste, especially those of an older generation, but you couldn’t help but feel slightly confused that he wouldn’t ever ask anybody to come watch him perform. He was clearly proud of what he had created and more passionate than anyone you’d met before.

“It’s just him and his dad I guess.” She was shrugging softly and glancing up at the stage as she spoke. “Apparently he’s a huge hard ass about him doing music.”

Your face was falling into a small frown at what she was saying but you didn’t have a chance to respond before the lights were shutting off and immediately being replaced by the same red ones the other venue had put on for their set, hearing the sounds of the doors opening and feet swiftly approaching the stage.

Anxiety was immediately building up as you were getting more and more constricted in the crowd but you felt slightly better knowing your friends were around you, feeling Riki not so subtly shift his position so he was stood behind you and you weren’t going to be subject to any stranger pressing into your body.

You were going to turn and give him a grateful smile but you were cut off by the sounds of the crowd screaming louder than you’d ever heard, confused on what was causing it before you realized the boys were already coming out onto the stage.

They were only silhouettes at first without the spotlights turned on but you could tell it was Sunghoon who had ended up directly in front of you, glancing across the stage to see Heeseung on the other side beside Jungwon again like he had been the other weekend.

Then the lights were coming on, soft enough to keep the red glow but illuminating each member and their instruments. You smiled widely and couldn’t help the scream that leapt from your throat, joining in with your friends and the rest of the crowd as excitement started to fill you. You’d never been in a setting like this before and you were quickly understanding why it was so addicting.

You were already watching Heeseung from the moment he stepped on stage so you definitely didn’t miss the way his eyes were scanning the front section of the crowd, only settling once they passed by you before quickly backtracking as a smile curled up on his lips.

Jungwon was starting to speak into the mic and introduce them like you’d heard him do last week but you were preoccupied, watching the pink haired boy and giving him a small nod of acknowledgment with a soft smile.

Then the show was starting and you quickly realized that what you had seen last time was nothing in comparison to actually being in the crowd, an energy taking over you that you didn’t even know you possessed. You were dancing along with Heejin and gripping Sunoo’s arm in excitement as he screamed and sang along, all the while keeping your eyes on Heeseung.

He was almost like a completely different person on stage, more than just his energy considering the fact even his gaze was new to you. He was a lot more intimidating when he was staring down at you with hooded eyes, the eyeliner more smudge now and thankfully distracting you from the skillful way his fingers moved along the guitar strings.

It was hard not to think about him to the level you’d been trying to deny when he was looking at you for almost the entirety of the show, seemingly checking on you when the crowd got particularly wild and at other times almost looking smug because of how transfixed you seemed. His lip would curl into a cocky smirk that you didn’t even think he could manage and you’d feel your heart thump alive in a way it never had before.

You spent the next few months following this exact routine with him.

Every week, in the middle of it or sometimes as early as the day after a show, he’d call your house and your mom would yell your name up the stairs. He’d softly invite you to the next show and you’d excitedly tell him that you’d be there, despite knowing he already knew the answer and you knowing he just liked to hear you say it.

Sometimes you’d take your friends with you but eventually you got comfortable enough to go by yourself, you’d be let in early with a small smile to the bouncers and you’d always ask him the same question before he got on stage.

“Are you nervous?” You’d say for the dozenth time even though you knew by now that he wasn’t but every single time his eyes would light up with that fire and passion that you’d been so sucked in by and he’d always repeat the same words back in the same tone.

“I’m excited.”

Heeseung liked it best when you came to his shows so you did it every weekend you were free, even when you’d get too overwhelmed and have to sit in the dressing room or behind the stage if it was available, he just liked knowing you were there to see him and he expressed it to you every single time.

You got closer over that time outside of watching him play too, taking longer to get over that awkwardness you both carried outside of the venues when the adrenaline died down but eventually you’d stopped hanging out solely within your respective groups and started to spend some time alone together.

He’d pick you up in his shitty run down car and your mom would glare at him from the living room window, watching his hair go from pink to blue then to a red that had taken you back a few steps with its brightness when you’d first seen it.

“That’s.. a strong choice.” You’d said after you buckled your seatbelt and you were reaching forward to run your hand through it before you even had a second to think about it.

“My dad hates the color red.” Was all he had responded with and you watched the side of his face as he smiled softly and put the car into drive.

Heeseung wasn’t the most stable person to be around at times but you eventually realized that you’d never felt as comfortable taking up space as you did when you were with him, an addicting feeling that you almost had no choice but to lean forward into and you were thankful that he was always around to catch you.

You’d sit in the basement with the boys as they practiced new songs and Jake had even attempted to teach you to play some songs on the guitar, going to him for help because it felt less intimidating than asking one of the actual guitar players.

It was somehow easy to mesh into their routines and hobbies despite how different you were than them and your most fun high school memories all featured your old friends and new ones hanging out together, all packed into booths at late night diners after a particularly good show or getting makeshift tattoos from Heejin in the familiar basement that you’d spent most of the year in by the time graduation rolled around.

Heeseung was a year older than you and already graduated before you’d met him but he’d made sure to attend and watch you and your friends walk, minus Riki who still had a year left.

You’d all rushed out of the ceremony hall and squished in his car so you could drive across town and watch the rest of his friends at their own school, cheering for them all in your different colored graduation gowns and ignoring the embarrassed look on Jungwon’s face when he gave his class president speech at the beginning.

There were a lot of highs but it all came with lows too and those took you longer to adjust to.

You weren’t exactly sure how to handle it when Heeseung would show up at your house late at night, sometimes bleeding from various places on his face or panting like he’d run all the way there. You’d quickly pull him inside and ignore your moms questioning shout asking who was at the door.

Eventually you had sat her down after dinner and told her that sometimes Heeseung had issues with his dad and he didn’t have anywhere else to go, which was a slight lie on your part but you knew it felt true to him considering he never considered any other options before heading in your direction even if it was across town and a lot less welcoming than one of his friends houses.

She never was a big fan of him, of any of your friends but especially him, despite the gentle way he always said hello to her upon entry and his countless attempts to get on her good side. You’d tried to explain to him that it wasn’t anything personal or anything he was doing wrong and it was just how your mother was but he seemed particularly upset about it despite normally not caring what people thought of him.

“It’s your mom, it’s different.” He was stressing his words to emphasize that it was because she was related to you that it mattered to him and you were furrowing your eyebrows and turning to look at him.

You were sat on your bed together, two months before it happened, and sharing a pair of headphones that was playing a scratchy demo of a song he’d been working on. You were popping the tape out of the device so it would stop abruptly as you sat up a little bit to be able to see his face better.

“Why do you say stuff like that?” You were asking him and he sighed softly like he always did when you begun to pry for answers regarding his behavior towards you.

Despite the way you felt around him and the fact you’d practically become inseparable in the summer following graduation, you’d never directly talked about what your relationship was or even crossed a line that would definitely give you an unspoken answer. Outside of some longing glances and hands resting a little too low on your back, you’d remained pretty platonic other than your own inner thoughts and emotions.

“Don’t know.” He was mumbling softly as he looked at you and you squinted your eyes at him in disbelief but eventually you sighed and shifted back so you were resting against your headboard again, shoulder pressed into his tightly.

When it finally happened, you pretty much assumed that your life was going to abruptly end.

The boys had been growing in popularity now that they were out of school and able to do music full time, still underaged but building enough connections with the local music scene and venues to be able to play more frequently and to older and grittier crowds.

Mixed with the rise of the internet and MTV music videos filled with long haired rockstars and half naked women, it didn’t take long for their talents to get noticed by a few different people who swore they were from the next big company and could guarantee to make Echoes of Riot each millionaires respectfully, offers that were all swiftly turned down by Heeseung (with the advice of Sunoo who had begun to fill a management like role within the group).

You’d never paid much mind to what stardom would mean for the boys despite believing to the deepest part of your heart that they deserved it and were more talented than most the people you heard over the radio. For some reason, some childish idiotic reason, you figured they’d spend the rest of your lives being teenagers playing in bars around your small hometown.

Then one night after a particularly long show, all the boys panting and sweaty as they headed back to their dressing rooms, a man had approached them similarly to the way others did almost nightly.

You knew right away that something was different this time and your friends did too, watching silently as the group stopped in their steps towards the back rooms and actually begun to pay attention to what the man was saying. Heeseung’s eyes were flickering up to yours and you raised your eyebrows at him from where you sat at the bar, shifting out of your seat when he beckoned you closer with a quick flick of his fingers.

The rest of your friends followed you and all of you made your way back to the rooms with the band and the man.

He didn’t seem at all bothered by the additional people in the room as he started to repeat his pitch behind closed doors and your heart started to clench nervously when you realized why he seemed so different.

Min Yoongi actually cared about the music quality and spreading a proper message through your work and performances, opening his monologue with descriptions of how he felt hearing and watching the videos Riki had been posting online of the group and you watched as his eyes twinkled with a passion you’d only ever seen before from the boy sitting next to you.

His hand was resting on your arm and draping over your shoulder on the couch but he couldn’t have been further away from you in that moment, holding onto every word Yoongi was saying and leaning forward occasionally to enthusiastically agree with something he was saying.

It was a jarring change after seeing him barely give the other music people a second of his time for the last few months but you understood that they had this connection you simply weren’t capable of understanding, a mutual trust built through having the same dream and passion and by the end of the first meeting, even without anything even halfway confirmed, you knew things were going to change from then on out.

Yoongi didn’t have a lot of money to invest into the boys but he was dedicated to promoting them and helping them with levels of production you’d only get with decades of experience, upping their discography to even higher levels and it wasn’t long before he was proving himself right.

“Tour?” Your voice was breaking around the word Heeseung had just said, continuing his sentence afterwards but you hadn’t heard a thing he’d said after that, your ears ringing as your face paled. “You’re leaving?”

He was faltering at the unexpected upset in your voice and you would’ve felt guilty for not matching his level of enthusiasm but you couldn’t help the wave of panic overwhelming you as you continued to try and process what he was saying.

“Hey, hey Y/N listen to me.” His voice was soft and you could feel his hand reaching forward to touch and cup your cheek, softly swiping his thumb over your smooth hot skin and shifting on the bed so he was closer to you. “It would only be for a few months, then I’d be coming back. We’d all be coming back.”

You’d somehow not processed the fact that going on tour meant the other boys would be also leaving with him and another wave of sickness swept over you at the realization you’d be losing most of your friends in one swoop, the most constant and positive thing in your entire life since you’d met them.

“I don’t want to leave, baby you know I’d never just leave.” He was quickly continuing when he realized he’d made it worse and your eyes shot up to him at the use of the pet name falling from his lips so casually despite never hearing it directed towards you before. He didn’t even seem to notice that he had said it and he was continuing on despite the surprise on your face. “But… I mean this is it.”

His words were vague but you knew exactly what they meant.

This was the end of the road for the life you’d been so happily living because despite how content and happy you were watching them play small and intimate shows, Heeseung had this hunger for more that would never be satisfied in a place like your hometown.

He didn’t mean to break your heart of course and you were definitely at fault for stupidly falling in love with a rockstar, falling victim to the oldest cliche in the book as you sat at the bus station and cried into Joonie’s shoulder. You watched as their tour bus got further and further out of sight before it was turning a corner and disappearing with all of them on it.

Things were the roughest they’d ever been for the first few months the boys were gone.

Your typical routine had been shattered and you were back to existing like a corpse, moving around from one task to the next with no real excitement or purpose. You’d never necessarily gained one but being around somebody as passionate and driven as Heeseung was like getting a secondhand high and you’d been riding the wave of his interest for the last year, now alone out at sea and stuck scrubbing the counters of a coffee shop in the small downtown area of your city.

You tried to write for the first month or two but eventually it got too hard for you to handle and you started to let Heeseung’s letters pile up. He’d still call your home phone but your mom stopped letting you know when he did and sometimes you’d hear her softly telling him that you weren’t feeling good and she’d have you call back later. She never brought it up and neither did you.

He’d call Heejin and Riki too and sometimes you’d hear his voice when you were talking to Sunoo on the phone. He’d went with them on tour after Yoongi had asked him to be their official team manager, giving him more time to handle the business side of things while Sunoo dealt with their personal schedules and issues. You’d listen to your friend lie and say he was talking to his sister and you’d thank him softly as he sighed and asked why you couldn’t just talk to your shared friend.

You didn’t know how to explain that Heeseung was something you needed to get clean from and hearing from him in small doses would make it ten times harder for you to function.

It was too much to say that his letters kept you awake all night crying as you read about how much he missed you followed by random sketches and song lyrics he was writing about you. They wouldn’t understand why you dropped a full plate of food the first time you heard them on the radio at work or why you stayed up all night to see their first actual interview on TV.

Eventually people stopped mentioning the band to you or at least spoke like the main guitarist and face of the group didn’t exist. It was easy enough to avoid for the first six months and then the articles started to roll out.

The boys hadn’t come home after their first tour and they were “temporarily” staying out in New York where there was more of a network and better opportunities. Part of you was grateful Heeseung hadn’t moved back to town, knowing you’d run into him eventually but you couldn’t stop thinking about him regardless considering the news being put out with his name on the headlines.

“That’s his third fight this week Sunoo.” You were spitting over the phone, balancing it between your shoulder and ear as you aggressively scrubbed at a dish that’d already been clean for the past few minutes. “Aren’t you supposed to be keeping them in check?”

“You don’t think I’m trying Y/N?” His voice was exhausted and desperate and you felt bad immediately for snapping at him, knowing your real anger didn’t result from him. “I have no idea what to do, I’ve never seen him like this.”

All the boys had been subject to some controversy as they continued to gain quick fame and admirers but like always, your brain was laser focused on Heeseung. He was getting into drunken fights routinely and being reported with multiple women who may or may not be fans who like to kiss and tell, photos of him and the other boys looking worse and worse each passing weekend as their rockstar lifestyle truly blossomed into an absolute disaster.

Eventually you started to find yourself ignoring the news again, becoming accustomed to it and already knowing what it was going to be every time Riki sighed entering your job and slid a magazine in your direction.

Three years passed like this and while you had stopped crying every night from how much you missed Heeseung and your other friends, if you could even consider them that considering the lack of communication over the years, you still felt that empty feeling in your skin as you robotically went about your routines and lifeless activities that didn’t hold any real purpose or grand result.

At the end of the third year, stretching into a point where you’d been away from Heeseung longer than you were ever with him, Heejin had told you that the band was back in town.

She’d called you and hesitantly let you know that she had run into Jay at the local grocery store a few hours ago, citing that she hadn’t thought much about it until she was back at her tattoo shop and thinking about you possibly running into one of the boys for as long as they stuck around this time. You’d thanked her for the heads up and then buried your head into your arms in upset, both at how little distance was between you and Heeseung and also regarding the fact Sunoo hadn’t even bothered to tell you they were around.

Half of you expected it, knowing you weren’t teenagers anymore standing in a cold concert line and he didn’t owe you any update on his whereabouts, clearly not telling Heejin either considering her shock upon seeing a familiar face.

Joonie however seemed to know all about it when you hesitatingly mentioned it over lunch with her and Riki after he’d asked you why you seemed so on edge. “Well it’s been on their tour show list for like four months.”

“And you didn’t think to tell anyone?” Riki was voicing your thoughts before you could and his face was curled up in annoyance and betrayal as he shoved a fry into his mouth, clearly just as caught off guard as you and hurt considering he’d also gotten close to the members before they’d left and he was friends with Sunoo for as long as you.

“You always tell me not to talk about them in front of Y/N.” She was whining out and you glanced at the younger boy who looked slightly sheepish as she said something he clearly meant to keep private.

She wasn’t necessarily wrong and you’d grown to realize being around her was going to be hard considering how big of a fan she remained of the band even after their decline into scandal, simultaneously acting like any other fan girl and somehow also constantly bragging to others about how she knew them personally before they’d blown up. Maybe she had mentioned their return at some point but it’d been years since you started to tune her out.

“So they’re not staying?” You were finally speaking again, your voice weak and curious and she gave you a knowing look before nodding and patting your hand.

You weren’t sure why you felt overwhelmingly disappointed that they’d eventually leave again despite the fact you planned to spend the entire time they were here avoiding them and hiding out in your apartment. It was probably for the same reason she was giving you a pity filled look and Riki was picking at the skin around his nails.

It only took a few days for Joonie to push the limit on how much of her interest in the band you could take, answering her late night call to hear her hysterical as she screamed over the sound of passing cars and told you she’d completely stalled on the highway and was going to miss the show.

You told yourself that you began immediately putting on your shoes and grabbing your keys because you were a good friend and you kept repeating it in your head the entire drive to her location, swearing over and over that it had nothing to do with putting yourself closer to Heeseung. Even after her and her two friends had gotten in your car with his face on their tshirts, you swallowed your tongue and promised your heart it wasn’t for any other reason.

It wasn’t because you wanted to see the thousands of fans outside the arena, the show being on the nicer side of town and twenty minutes away from the venues they used to hold small performances for.

They thanked you continuously as you parked and then Joonie was pulling you aside to guilty whisper that you’d need to get your parking validate to be able to leave and return to pick them back up. A wave of nausea rolled over you but you were still convincing yourself you didn’t care so you swallowed your sickness and gave her a tight smile before following them outside the car.

“The booths over there.” She was telling you once you’d gotten inside and she had a wide smile on her face that matched her friends, clutching her ticket and practically beaming with excitement. “So we’ll see you at 11:30?”

“Mhm.” You didn’t trust your voice enough to speak and not give away how you were feeling so you hummed out a response to her question you barely processed before watching them squeal and walk towards the actual check in and entrance.

You rubbed your fingers together anxiously before glancing to your right and sighing seeing the line of people waiting to get their parking validated, teenage girls who looked like they barely could drive mixed in with dads and boyfriends who looked just as exhausted and irritated as you were starting to feel.

For a second you considered just leaving the girls there and asking Heejin or Riki to pick them up afterwards so you could drink yourself delirious and forget you’d ever been this close to the band but your heart clenched thinking about them having to experience the same thing and you told yourself again that you were trying to be a good friend.

You’d been standing in the line for twenty minutes, holding onto your last strand of patience and curiously listening to the fans around you talking about the boys with so much awe and wonderment.

You couldn’t help but smile at some things, hearing them gush about Jungwon’s cheeks or rave about how sexy Sunghoon’s newest guitar was and you felt a bit stupid for the pride filling your chest. You’d been avoiding them and their music, never listening to anything they’d put out in recent years but you felt happy for them knowing they were still igniting that same excitement in people even if they seemed to have lost the passion themselves.

It was almost exactly twenty one minutes later when you were feeling something tap against your shoulder, whipping your head to the side to see who had bumped into you before freezing up completely.

He had a mask on and a hat almost covering his eyes but you knew immediately who it was, eyes widening as you looked at him and then glanced around your surroundings to see if anybody had recognized him too.

“The fans don’t pay much attention to anyone without an instrument.” Sunoo was saying and you could hear him smiling even if you couldn’t see most of his face, breathing out a sigh of relief and pulling him in for a hug before you had a second to think about it.

He accepted it immediately and you were grateful that he wasn’t being distant with you despite the fact that was all you’d shown each other in recent years, melting into your hold as your eyes pricked with tears considering how much taller and thinner he was now. Sometimes when you thought of the boys, they were frozen in time and still teenagers in your head and you felt a bit dizzy as the illusion broke right in front of you.

“How’d you know I was here?” You were whispering out into his chest and then pulling back to stare up at him in amazement, scanning over his covered face.

“Sunghoon saw the hundreds of messages Joonie had sent… she actually had the guts to ask him to pick her up after her car stalled.” He was explaining and you felt embarrassed for your friend even though Sunoo was laughing like it was something funny. You got annoyed with her behavior but she was still your friend and you almost felt offended for her knowing they’d all been laughing at her attempts to reach out, no matter how baseless her connection with them seemed on their side. “We figured that you would’ve been the one to answer her calls.”

“We?” You were asking the second the word fell from his lips and a flash of regret passed over his face. “Do they all know I’m here?”

“Except for him.” He was explaining and you felt his hand squeezing your arm to try and calm you down, a flash of familiarity running through you at the feeling despite slowly recognizing the boy in front of you less and less. “But I imagine one of them is going to slip up sooner or later.”

You were nodding in understanding but your heart started to thump with anxiety and you were grateful that the arena was so full, hoping Heeseung wasn’t dumb enough to run out into a waiting room of fans to try and see you.

“I have to go.” You were practically forcing the words out and your face was pulling into a grimace as you said them, feeling short of breath and dizzy as your past and present finally started to collide despite your years of effort. “Can you…”

You were gesturing towards the parking validation ticket in your hand and he glanced down at it before looking back at your panicked eyes and nodding softly, squeezing your arm one more time before he was taking it and giving you the go ahead to get out of the arena before your chest exploded.

You didn’t know exactly what to say to him, you weren’t sure if this was a see you later or another long term goodbye and he seemed to be thinking the same thing, nodding again when you smiled sadly at him and took a few steps backwards.

Nearly losing your footing as you turned around, you were dizzyingly making your way out of the arenas main center and pushing back out into the chilled air. Your lungs tried to suck in deep breaths and you hurriedly made your way back to the parking garage but you were failing miserably and you eventually gave up all together, pausing in your quick strides and resting again the building with your eyes shut tight.

It wasn’t at all quiet, fans still gathered outside before the show and traffic beeps and honks as people tried to get in and out of the busy area, but your head felt empty and shut down.

The sound of footsteps approaching you crept into your dizzy brain and you took a deep breath before looking up, somehow already knowing who it was going to be without so much as a glance. He was stopping a few feet away from you when you looked up and your legs felt weaker as you stared at him in silence.

He was wearing a mask and a hat like Sunoo and whilst you’d been disappointed earlier about not being able to see your old friends face, now you were extremely grateful for the coverage. It didn’t help much considering you could still see the most recognizable part of him, his big eyes blinking at you in shock.

“You don’t look that surprised.” Heeseung’s voice was shockingly similar to how it was last time you’d heard it in person, the tone only slightly deeper and the only major change being the lifelessness behind his words as he watched you stand up straight.

He was right, for some reason you weren’t at all shocked to see him in front of you but he was in the same spot as you considering he came to find you in the first place. “Should I be? You’re here aren’t you?”

You heard him scoff softly before he was turning his head to look around the area, handful of fans still wandering around but slowly starting to disperse as they made their way insides to find their seats and buy the merch. He was glancing back at you quickly and then he was reaching up to take his mask off.

He didn’t say anything for a while after he took it off and you just stared at him, scanning over his face and the difference that time had handed to him. His features were a lot sharper now, growing into his nose and ears perfectly and you once again were hit with the reality that you’d been apart for a long time and the boy you knew was long gone.

“Sunoo validated your ticket.” He was starting to speak suddenly, awkwardness seeping into his tone due to your prolonged silent stare and you watched him dig into his pocket to retrieve the crumbled up piece of paper the parking machine had given you. “He got busy so I just brought it out.”

“He got busy?” You questioned and took a step forward away from the building, taking it from him swiftly and wincing when your finger brushed against his. “You’re the one in the band.”

He didn’t say anything to that, clearly lying about why he had been the one to bring the ticket out but making no move to correct himself or attempt to be honest with you. You didn’t really mind considering you were in a similar boat, having no real reason to rest again the building like you had other than buying yourself more time in the area.

“You’re not staying?” He was asking and his voice broke slightly which caused a large frown to form on your face, not sure why he had to even ask considering you both knew you weren’t going to watch his show.

“I’ll be back after to..” You awkwardly trailed off and lifted your hand that was clutching the parking ticket, indicating the reason you were there and watching him carefully. “Are you nervous?”

He tensed up as the familiar words fell from your lips and you felt like the air stopped moving for a second before he answered. He’d heard it asked thousands of times since it last was in your voice in that specific tone but it never bothered him before after the first year.

It was asked genuinely by other people, actually wondering if he was feeling nervous or at times doubting his abilities and using it as a way to get under his skin. Nobody ever made the simple question feel as important as you did and he understood why now that he was older and had plenty of time to think about it. You asked him, not because you thought he was or you figured he wouldn’t be able to handle the stage and the pressure, but because you knew it ignited a fire in him.

You’d ask him just to hear him repeat back in a firm voice how excited he was, to see that passion flare up in his eyes and give him an opportunity to voice some solid self confidence before he got up there to perform.

You knew right away that the phrase brought him back as far in time as it did you but your stomach turned at the blank look on his face, nothing arising to the surface at the triggered memory and instead he almost looked like he was deflating as you stood there.

“I’m just… tired.” He was eventually muttering back and clearing his throat before anxiously scratching at the back of his neck, both of you knowing the weight of his unusual answer and preparing to cripple under it once you were out of the suffocating hold his gaze had on you.

The both of you stood there for a few seconds longer before you could hear the screaming getting louder from inside, his head turning towards the building before looking back at you with a defeated expression. You knew without him saying it that he needed to go and that same feeling you had with Sunoo started to creep up again, not knowing what type of goodbye this was.

“There’s a second show tomorrow.” He was rushing out and then chewing on his lip ring as he avoided your questioning gaze. “You’ll be on the list.”

He glanced at you one more time but he seemed to understand that you weren’t going to give him a definite response, nodding his head in conclusion before he was turning around and jogging back towards the side entrance of the arena.

All the air returned to your lungs once he was finally out of sight and then immediately left again once you broke into a heavy sob, stumbling back a bit before quickly gathering your emotions and trying your best to hold yourself together.

You were quickly wiping your tears and glancing around to make sure nobody had been a witness to your abrupt meltdown, reminding yourself why you were there in the first place and heading back to your car like your world hadn’t just been taken off pause.

——

It had only taken you two seconds after the invitation fell from Heeseung’s lips to decide that you were going to go to the show.

He had said it like it was a question but the look in his eye told you that he didn’t think you’d come, but he still had invited you and that stupid part of you felt like that had to mean something. You’d had Riki pick the girls up from the concert that night and you ignored Joonie’s calls and the countless uploads she’d had from the concert.

You didn’t need to see the boys performing like nothing had happened, like your entire life hadn’t been flipped outside down with just a few sentences from the boy you’d tried your hardest to forget about the past few years.

It was a bit hypocritical considering you were currently back at the same exact place you were running from yesterday, this time walking in the opposite direction of the parking validation booth and awkwardly approaching the ticketing line. You felt like an idiot telling the staff that you were on the list, seeing their annoyed expressions and knowing they must hear it a dozen times a night from fan girls trying to get backstage.

“Nice try but there’s only ever been one name on the list and trust me, that seats never been taken.” The man was talking to you in a bored tone and your heart clenched at the implication of what he was saying.

You wondered if it was something Heeseung had done at the beginning of the tour in case you decided to come to one of the shows but he knew you well enough to know you never would and you certainly would never stride in the place without a ticket expecting to be on the list.

Eventually you figured that he had put you on there with the hopes that one day he’d have the guts to invite you and your heart shattered a bit more thinking about the fact that he never did, never even attempting as far as you were concerned and aware of. You cleared your throat awkwardly and rummaged in your bag to pull out your ID and hand it to the man silently.

His eyes flickered down to it for a second before looking back up at your face and you saw a wave of shock come over him, immediately followed by embarrassment for doubting you in the first place.

You gave him an awkward half smile and then an appreciative nod when he was stepping aside and allowing you to enter the main performance area. You were pausing at the top of the entrance way, eyes scanning over the large arena and feeling a bit sick considering how many seats were there and how few of them were empty.

You were starting to regret showing up and preparing to turn around and head back out before the show started but you were snapped out of your panic when your phone was ringing in your pocket. You were snatching it out in hopes that it was one of your friends trying to calm you down but your eyebrows furrowed when you saw it was an unknown number.

Finger hovering over the decline button, you had half the mind to consider the fact it might be Heeseung and you were answering it and putting it to your ear before you had a second to think about it.

“You actually came.” You immediately tensed up when the voice was filtering through the speaker, different and raspier but you knew who it was from the first word.

“How do you know I’m here?” You were dumbly asking and glancing around you like he was going to be standing in the shadows somewhere, frowning slightly when he laughed into the phone.

“He told them to alert him immediately if you ever showed up.” Jake was saying as an explanation and halfway confirming your suspicions about how long you’d been kept on the list despite never coming or reaching out to them. “And you’re finally here.”

“I’m not staying.” You were saying quickly and a rough edge seeped into your voice, something you hadn’t had last time he knew you but he also hadn’t been so cocky and demeaning last time you spoke to him so you were equal in that sense.

He was sighing softly and you paused at the sound, not expecting him to sound so defeated. You’d spoken to Jake more than the others over the years, only a few times but he had come home once or twice to visit family and it was hard to avoid him considering he actively was seeking you and the others out each time.

You weren’t really sure why he kept coming around and eventually you realized that he didn’t seem to know why either, looking more and more lost and less like himself every time you saw him. Jake was always so carefree and happy to be around that time you’d all spent together, genuinely seeming like he felt lucky for all of you and the music they were making together.

This new version of him was the most jarring to you out of everybody else because he had gotten sad and then he had gotten very very cold, almost angry every time you saw him and always feeling like he was on the edge of snapping.

You imagine that helped him out on the stage and you finally felt like he fit the rough drummer image that had been given to him by fans and media despite never making that connection yourself when you had known him. So to hear him sigh softly hearing that you were planning on leaving before they even performed, you were stopping in your tracks and finding yourself willing to hear him out.

“He doesn’t know you’re here yet and he’s driving himself so insane that he’s sick in the bathroom.” He was saying in a lower tone and you imagined that staff and other members were around him considering how soon the show was going to start. “No one can get him to come out but I have a feeling on who might.”

Tears were filling your eyes as he spoke about Heeseung’s condition but you were shaking your head in denial despite the fact he couldn’t see you, wiping your face with your sleeve before whispering back to him in a shaky tone. “I can’t do this Jake.”

“Please Y/N.” He was quickly retorting back and he sounded so similar to how he used to that you felt floored. His tone was genuine and filled with concern for his friend and you’d almost forgotten what he sounded like when he cared about something. “All these years you haven’t answered him, please don’t leave yet. Atleast get him on stage and then you can go and I’ll make sure he can’t find you for the rest of the time we’re here.”

Your breath was catching at the last half of his rushed statement and you were covering your mouth for a second with a shaky hand. It took you a few breaths to think of what to say and he stayed silent on the other line throughout it.

“Promise me.” You were mumbling out and clutching the device so hard you were worried it would crack, hearing nothing on the other side for a bit as your stomach bubbled with thick anxiety. “Promise me you’ll keep him away from me after this.”

It went silent again and you were almost positive that he had hung up the phone before he was speaking again in a defeated tone. “I promise.”

——

If you had gone back to the week before and told yourself that you’d be standing in a room with all of your old friends, you would’ve probably hid under the counter at work and begged future you to leave you alone.

You were trying your best to not showcase the fact that you were absolutely freaking out and filling with more and more devastation every time one of them spoke in their lifeless and annoyed tones, bickering behind you about the purpose of your presence and debating wether it was a good idea or not to allow you to be the one to try and gather Heeseung.

“He invited her for a reason Hoon.” Sunoo was sighing in your defense but he didn’t seem optimistic about it either, barely sparing you a glance since you walked through the door and anxiously checking his walkie talkie every few minutes to try and update the staff.

“Because he saw her yesterday and it fucked him up, he’s not in his right mind.” Jay was snapping before Sunghoon could answer for himself and you flinched at his loud tone, taking a step back when he was standing off the couch and throwing an arm in your general direction to emphasize that it was your fault.

You were frowning deeply at the accusation, not understanding how it could possibly be your fault that Heeseung was having a melt down especially when they didn’t seem that rare for him, his general anxiety and mental health another constant topic in the tabloids.

They continued to argue and you did your best to tune them out while simultaneously trying to ignore the fact Jungwon was silently staring at you from the corner and Jake was only a few feet away from you with his arms crossed. He hadn’t said much to come to your defense but he was continuously shooting you glances like he was trying to monitor your reactions.

You might as well have been in a room full of amped up strangers, possibly high as they paced and jittered about and a part of you felt like you were grieving now that you knew there would be no way to pretend things were still the same, no more pretending time was frozen and nothing had changed.

“Have any of you been able to calm him down this entire time?” You were suddenly asking from near the wall and it was the first time you’d spoken since you’d gotten in there.

The reaction was immediate and varying from each boy, half of them tensing up and looking more frustrated at the sound of your familiar voice and the others almost instantaneously losing the tension in their shoulders with softened eyes. It was like they hadn’t fully processed you being there until you spoke, talking around you in hypotheticals like you imagined they’d been doing over the years.

You wondered if you were a topic they were supposed to avoid mentioning like Heeseung had become for you. Then you selfishly wondered if they’d missed you at all.

Nobody answered for a while and then Jungwon was shaking his head softly, holding your gaze with a sympathetic look that caused you to nod in understanding. “Isn’t it worth a try then?”

“We have 15 minutes.” Sunghoon was saying in that same cold tone he’d been using but it held some level of defeat this time, slumping back into the couch and saying no form of the objection he had voiced so quickly earlier.

You were being directed to a hallway suddenly by Sunoo and before you could say anything or ask why he was ushering you out, he was hastily pointing to a door and scurrying off back towards the dressing room. You didn’t necessarily need him to explain, hearing the soft sobs and gags coming from behind the door now, but you wished he had given you a bit more time to collect yourself or think of something to say.

You took a deep breath and decided to not stall and try to gather some of the might you had the other night, pushing through the door and pausing once you were on the other side of it.

“If I have to tell you to fuck off one more time I’m going to get everybody in this shitty arena fired.”

Heeseung’s voice was coming from one of the stalls and your entire body locked up at the sound of it, never hearing him quite so angry before but also never hearing him sound so empty and wrecked. He was clearly holding back his sobs now that somebody was in there but you could see one of his leather boots poking into the stall next to his, laying on the floor and most likely clutching the toilet.

You were approaching the plastic door without saying anything and tugging on it softly once you were close to it, your fingers curling around the top of it and pulling it towards you with a small shake.

Heeseung’s words about the arena being shitty weren’t necessarily incorrect considering the lock on the door was immediately budging and it was flying open towards you, revealing you standing behind it to his swollen eyes and allowing you to see his frame curled up on the floor in a sickened despair.

He looked beyond surprised to see you and you were almost worried he was going to throw up again just from the shock of your arrival, his body locking up and then immediately tensing even more when you were taking a reluctant step inside the stall with him. You may have been practically strangers with a heavy history now but you still knew Heeseung better than you knew yourself most days and you felt that same comfort and familiarity as you always did.

So you were sinking to the dirty floor across from him and sighing softly, letting your head lean against the wall of the stall and glancing at him hesitantly.

“You came.” He was finally breathing out and his voice sounded tight because of your close proximity, not necessarily touching but the closest you’d been in almost half a decade. He was struggling to sit up but he eventually managed and stretched his legs out in your direction, both of you sitting in the same position across from each other.

“You invited me.” You whispered back to him with a small sad smile that was slipping away as fast as it came. “I was on the list.”

He didn’t laugh but you could tell he appreciated your attempts to lighten the situation, eyes softening slightly at the way your shoulders raised into a small casual shrug.

“What’s happening Heeseung?” You were asking him but you both knew what it was already and you felt just as sick as he looked as you said his name, almost feeling like a swear word as it fell from your lips naturally. “Why are we here right now?”

“You…” He was pausing as his voice shook and you watched him closely, not missing the way he was avoiding looking in your direction and instead staring down at the shaky hands that were picking at his fingers in his lap. “You stopped answering the letters, you wouldn’t talk to me anymore.”

Your shoulders deflated as he spoke in a hurt voice, clearly being bothered by your lack of communication and not at all understanding why you had done it in the first place. You admit that it was a bit childish on your side to completely cut him off without a final conversation but you knew Heeseung would never just let you go like you needed.

“It was only supposed to be a few months Hee, you said you’d come home and you never did.” You tried to keep your tone less accusatory than his but you were also extremely hurt by what he had done.

You’d spend the entirety of your time with Heeseung making him your source of happiness and that was your first mistake because he was always bound to leave. He was always set after something much bigger than your town could ever offer but you guess a stupid part of you thought that you would be enough for him to stay.

You didn’t want him to give up his dreams, it was the entire reason you fell for him in the first place but you just wished time could stay frozen in that summer.

It’d been years and you still could feel him sitting next to you, never smoking with the others because you didn’t even though you knew he did it when you weren’t around. He was always supporting you like that and even though neither of you ever said it out loud, you knew he loved you too. It wasn’t his fault that he loved music more and you could never compare to the feeling it gave him but you tried your hardest.

Sometimes you thought it was working, when he’d come over after practice and you’d lay together in your backyard with its overgrown grass. You’d feel it tickling against your bare skin when you laughed at a stupid joke he made and rolled in the other direction clutching your stomach.

Other times you were once again hit with the reminder that he was only temporary, you’d see him zone out listening over and over to tracks he’d been producing or his eyes would go wide with amazement any time you went to a show that wasn’t his.

And you were completely right about him being temporary up until now, watching him sit across from you with that broken expression on his face that made you sick every time you locked eyes with him. You weren’t sure what exactly started his decline, you felt guilt for playing a large part in it but you didn’t think it would be much difference if you had stuck around his life anyways.

Maybe you would’ve begged him to come home when he started going to star filled parties, too many drugs to avoid and too much pressure to fit in to not indulge. Maybe you would’ve called Yoongi and demanded for a hiatus, giving you some time to come see him or bring him back home for a week or two to calm him and his system down.

Maybe you wouldn’t have ended up on the dirty floor of a public bathroom where he was vomiting his guts out just a few minutes ago. You could’ve been back in your long grass or pressed next to him on his dads old couch, still just as young and just as silently inlove with the boy with pretty pink hair and eyes so wide and amazed you couldn’t help but drink them in.

“I would’ve stayed.” He was finally forcing out the words necessary to snap you from your thoughts, the words you’d been considering for the past few years. “If you told me to stay I would have in a second.”

“And then what?” You were retorting quickly but your tone was weak and sad instead of bitter and iced over, shaking your head softly and giving him another sad smile and humorless laugh as you considered the option. “We grow old together with you secretly hating me for ruining your dreams, I live with the guilt of making you do that.”

“I could never hate you. Nothing could ever make me hate you, trust me I’ve tried.” His tone was the opposite of yours, aggressive and nasty as he spat out the words like they burned but you knew his anger wasn’t directed at you necessarily.

You let the two of you fall into an unfamiliar silence, giving him time to collect himself before he accidentally said something he’d eventually end up regretting even more than he already was.

He didn’t say anything either and he seemed to understand what you were doing, sighing out a shuttered breath before he was scooting forward across the floor until his knees were knocking against yours. You glanced up at him and your face fell at the exhausted look on his face, leaning forward similarly until you could wrap your hands around his and squeeze them tightly with your thumbs rubbing over his calloused skin.

Heeseung was sucking in a breath at the feeling of you touching him and then he was breaking into small hiccuped sobs that left you feeling heavy and lost on what you could do to help him.

You were letting yourself sink back into the past when you were moving forward even more so you could pull him closer towards you, his upper half practically in your lap now as you cradled his head and softly pet his damp hair that was dyed black now and messily falling into his eyes.

Your own eyes were falling shut and you were resting yourself on top of him, half hugging each other and half just giving up and letting the weight of his body and yours combine into a mess of limbs and heavy sobs. It was making you feel both better and worse, feeling him so close again but not knowing if it was the last time and also holding the knowledge that you’d missed such a large portion of time with him like this.

It wasn’t possible to get back everything you’d missed, it wasn’t possible to rewind and start over and you weren’t sure there was any way to prevent this amount of hurt anyways.

You could’ve asked him to stay with you all those years ago but then you’d never see that light within him again and you know it would always be on the back of his mind, his fingers and heart always aching for more than what you could give him and you’d stay up countless nights regretting making him give that up for you.

Maybe if you had answered his letters, picked up his relentless calls and heard him out when he didn’t come home. He could’ve had a good reason or maybe just hearing him finally say he loved you would be enough for you to handle the impossible distance.

So many what ifs that you’d never get the answer to because you weren’t there and you’d never get back there again no matter how much your heart still held onto the past and your love together.

Instead you were here and this was where the road with him had led you, cradling each other as the crowd cheered for him outside and it fell on your deaf ears. You knew he wasn’t going to let you go and you weren’t going to make him, you weren’t going to make him choose again and you didn’t know if that would be enough this time but you listened to him cry and prayed it would be.

Heeseung sung out a choir of sobs and gasps into your chest and you knew you would stay with him for as long as he needed you too, until his cries died down or your legs went numb.

Until the cheers fell into silence and the fans went home for the night disappointed, at least holding the knowledge that the music would still be there tomorrow.

You still weren’t positive that he was really here with you and he still felt as fleeting and temporary as he did when you first had met him, wide eyed and stuttered conversations. It was only a small flicker of hope and comfort that your love for him was the most permanent thing you’d ever experienced.

And that small flicker was more than enough for you.

#enhypen #enhypen drabbles #enhypen fanfiction #heeseung #heeseung drabbles #heeseung x reader #jake enhypen #heeseung smut #sunghoon enhypen #heeseung fanfic #heeseung angst #heeseung au #heeseung fic #lee heeseung x reader #enhypen jay #sunoo enhypen #jungwon enhypen #enhypen riki #niki enhypen #enhypen au #enhypen smut #enhypen angst #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fic

[ihadlife]

Achilles' Heel

pairing: (aged up) pro hero!Bakugo Katsuki x fem!reader

word count: 10.2k

synopsis: You and Bakugo aren't dating, so you can't be really mad when he's toying with you. What you can be, though, is miserable. Especially when you get laid off from work. And to whose else's arms can you run into other than the person who's hurting you the most. 

tags: 18+, adult content, fem!reader, fem gendered pronouns and pet names, angst, so much fucking angst, baby trapping, unprotected sex, dumbification, masturbation, dom/sub dynamics, dirty talking, oral sex (male and female receiving), praise kink, degradation kink, impact play, unrequited love, reader and other people smoke, reader has crippling mommy issues and self-isolates, the worst possible decisions ever made at all times, toxicity contest between reader and Bakugo i guess

an: crossposted on ao3. reader makes decisions so bad i wanted to smack her head against concrete all the time. if you're reading this for the smut i suggest you skip this one, it's not centered around it. it was pain in the ass to write bakugo’s direct speech but if it doesn’t make sense from an accent standpoint i’m begging you let me know and i’ll adjust it. and as always, english is my second language so if you spot any mistakes or even typos pls let me know.

“I get that he was like… busy, and probably exhausted after, but he could’ve sent me a message at least, you know?” 

“Yeah, I’ve been telling you he’s a dick.” 

Your best friend inhaled the cold autumn air through the tobacco and filter in their cigarette, filling their lungs with smoke before exhaling it, letting it mix with the breeze. 

“He’s not a dick… there’s just a lot on his plate.” You tried defending him, but even to your own ears, the words that had left your mouth sounded pathetic and feeble. “God knows how I would’ve acted if I had his job.” 

You were looking down at your own hands, playing with the handle of the mug that was now empty, the coffee in it long gone. You didn’t even have to look up to know that your friend was giving you a dirty look. 

To be fair, they weren't completely wrong. You still couldn’t get behind their words – a dick – but you more or less agreed with their general idea: he wasn’t treating you right and you deserved better. 

Knowing and realising all that, you still couldn't bring yourself to do anything about it. 

“You would’ve been honest and communicated.” They took another drag through their cigarette. “And he should be too. If he wants to keep a relationship.” 

The truth was, he had a demanding job. Being a pro hero and saving people’s lives almost every single day was taxing. Not only physically, but also mentally. You understood that. You had let him know that you understood. 

Still, as your friend said, and even as your own head was telling you, wanting him to communicate his needs and intentions beforehand was the bare minimum. Not even letting a problem arise and preventing it. Because he should have cared. 

The thing that hurt you the most was that it hadn’t always been like that. 

At the start, when you two met, he was attentive. Funny. Kind. Charming. You were sure he was still the same person, only not towards you. Not anymore, at least.

You entertained your friend and they tried to distract you from your own thoughts for about another hour before you both got up and went separate ways, counting on seeing each other sometime in the next two weeks again. Not that any of you could make it longer without seeing each other. 

You decided to take the longer walk home, hop to a small market on your way and buy some necessities you needed. Maybe pick up something small to treat yourself. 

Your heels were clapping on the sidewalk loudly, your tempo moderate. Your feet hurt after spending the entire day in your heels and once again you cursed yourself for choosing this type of footwear when you had known you would have to spend an entire day in them. There was a huge blister forming on your right Achilles, you were sure. 

You fished your phone from your purse without even thinking about it, your thumbs moving on the screen as if they’d had a mind of their own. Or maybe it was a muscle memory at this point. 

You opened the messages app on your phone and stared at the screen. Maybe hoping that if you stared long and hard enough, you would somehow manifest his response. Or maybe he would even open and read the message instead of leaving you on delivered. 

I’m sorry to hear that! You really should take a few days off, you deserve it :( 

Pathetic. 

Scoffing at yourself you put your phone back into your purse and entered the small market. After greeting the lady who owned the shop you grabbed a basket and started browsing the isles. 

You liked this market. The owner was aloof, she never asked you personal questions. You had been going here for long enough for the lady to remember you, you were one of the regular customers, yet she treated you like a stranger every time. 

You appreciated that. This kind of curtness. 

You began your usual route around the small store – a route you’d walked so many times you would be able to walk it with a scarf around your eyes without bumping into a single thing. 

You idly strolled through the shop, picking up the stuff you needed. 

Toast bread. 

A premade sandwich with cheese, ham, and cucumber. 

Spam ham. 

Canned fish. 

A few packets of instant ramen. 

Cheap coffee. 

Two single rolls of toilet paper. 

Two bottles of soju. 

Your feet stopped once you were in front of the register. You put the basket on the counter with a tiny smile and waited for the owner to scan the items. 

Your eyes slid from the small woman to the stand next to the register, where the magazines were, all kinds together. The serious ones and the ones that just wrote about celebrity gossip. Living and lifestyle ones. Ones for teenagers. Weekly sudokus and crossword puzzles. 

You weren’t the same scared, shy, uncertain intern as you were a few years ago. You’ve earned your place in the publishing company; you were a proper columnist at that point. So when your boss had assigned you the interview with the pro hero that would be the main feature of the next issue, you had been elated and had readily accepted the task. You had been sure this would help further your career. Maybe help you get a raise. 

As you had soon learned, you might have been a good columnist, but you were still very much naive. You hadn’t gotten a raise. Nor had the feature helped the career. 

What you’ve gotten out of the interview, however, was your phone number in Dynamight’s phone. 

“Thanks for the interview, it was great.” You smiled and closed your laptop right after saving the file. 

“No, ya were great.” 

You laughed a little, bashful, a quiet ‘thank you’ leaving your lips as you put your laptop into its case and into your faux leather bag that was resting against the chair you were sitting in. 

“I mean it,” he leaned back in his luxurious office chair, his elbows resting on the arms of the seat. “Most of the interviews I do are real uncomfortable. People love bein’ nosy and invadin’ my  fuckin’ privacy.” 

“You can’t blame them,” you grinned. “Of course, they wanna know everything about one of the most popular heroes.” 

“And ya?” He asked after a slight pause and butted his chin in your direction. 

“Me?” 

“D’ya wanna know everythin’ ‘bout the most popular hero?” 

You didn’t miss the way he changed ‘one of the most popular’ to ‘most popular’. Shameless. 

“Uhm,” you bit your lower lip, not really sure what to answer. 

“Lemme take ya out.”

You couldn’t deny his attractiveness. His cockiness and the roughness around the edges were more alluring than you would like to admit. 

“Okay.” You breathed out and gave him a nervous smile. 

Were you ready to go on a date with a pro hero though? 

“Sorry?” You apologised to the woman when you realised she had said something. 

She repeated the total price to you. 

Oh, right. 

You fumbled with your purse a little and fished out your wallet. 

“Could you please add a bag to that?” 

The woman grabbed one plastic bag from under the counter and put it on top of the things you purchased, not bothering to bag them. 

“Actually… I would also like some cigarettes. And a lighter.” You put your wallet on the counter and started bagging the groceries yourself. 

“What kind?” Was all she said, but you didn’t miss the judgy look she gave you. 

“Gold Marlboro.” 

She turned around to retrieve the cigarette box and basic, plastic lighter in a bright blue colour and handed them to you. 

You finished bagging your stuff quickly, paid for it and with a goodbye exited the market. 

A silent groan left your lips when you felt the rocky cement underneath your feet again, the back of your shoe digging into your Achilles more than before. The blister was going to be a big one. 

The rest of the route to your home was uneventful. Thankfully. Once you opened the front door of the crappy building where you lived, you stood in front of the elevator. 

It was old, unreliable, and just barely held together. This is why you usually took the stairs, but the painful cushion filled with fluid made you reconsider your actions. You looked from the elevator to your feet. It was either the stairs which would abuse your blister even more, or the risky elevator. 

You sighed as you carefully stepped out of the heels. 

“Shit.” 

The blister that formed on your Achilles during the day must have popped and was now bleeding. Your entire heel and the inside of your shoe were stained with red that was slowly turning brown; the edges were crusty and flaking.  

“Great.” 

You bent down to pick up the bloody shoes in your free hand and started walking up the stairs. The stone and occasional tiles of the floor were just a tad too cool on your soles but you didn’t necessarily mind the sensation. It felt nice on your slightly swollen feet after the entire day. 

Once you made it to the seventh floor – your floor – you stopped in front of the door to your apartment, and with a loud bang let the shoes fall from your hand to the floor. The bag with your groceries followed suit and soon you were trying to fish out your keys from your faux leather shoulder bag. 

Your phone started vibrating, set on silent mode. Scrambling to quickly pick it up, you found your phone in record time and checked the caller’s ID, hoping to find a certain hero’s name on the display. 

Your eyebrows furrowed a little when you found out it was your mother calling you. Inhaling deeply and breathing out through your nose, you slid your finger over the screen and put the phone against your ear. 

“Hi, mom!” Your voice was too high-pitched as you greeted her. You leaned your head heavily to the side and squished the phone between your ear and your shoulder to keep your hand empty. 

“Hi, sweetheart.” 

You pulled a face at the pet name. You hated loving it. 

“Mom, I’m sorry, but I’m really busy right now. Is it important?” You slightly fumbled with your bag as you kept trying to find your keys. 

“Oh, no, I just wanted to call and ask how you’re doing,” you could hear the smile in her voice. 

“I’m doing fine! Listen, would it be alright if I call you tomorrow? I’ve got a lot of things I still gotta do today.” You were lying through your teeth. 

It took only a few more seconds of conversation with her, and you both agreed on a call the next day when you ‘have more time’. You tossed the phone in your bag and rummaged through all the things once again before you found your keys in the bottom corner of your bag and unlocked the door. 

 First, you walked into the small and cramped hall of your apartment and put down your purse, then just halfway stepped out of your flat to retrieve your shoes and finally the bag with groceries. 

Eventually, you closed and locked the door behind you, the grocery bag in your arms as you stepped into the apartment that was way too small to even fit a single person. Not even two steps later you were in your living room and bedroom and after three more steps and turning the corner twice you were standing in the ‘kitchen’. ‘Kitchen’ with quotation marks, because the very few cabinets with a sink and without a proper oven could hardly count as a regular kitchen. 

The apartment was horrible. It was in a worse part of town – not necessarily the worst, but bad enough. The prefabricated block of flats was old and in desperate need of renovation; the plaster on the outside of the building was slowly crumbling, the insolation was thinner than the walls between apartments, the pipes were rusty, and you heard that several neighbours of yours from lower levels had complained about mould. 

Most of the people here, except for a few old grandmas and young women around your age, were unfriendly. The neighbours, with whom you shared one of the living room walls, were too loud. 

Oftentimes, there were strange smells, ones you could not identify or describe. Whether they were lingering in the hall of the building or, for some godforsaken reason, in your own flat, they always lasted only a couple of hours. 

During your walks up and down the stairs to get to or from work, you’d meet people who’d make you cross the street if you met them in the city at night. They were mostly younger men with pronounced eyebags and a strut that was either overconfident or not confident enough. 

The only reason you stayed there was because it was cheap and the commute to your work from here was alright. Even with a salary that was too low for the job you did, you were able to afford it and even save a little bit of money on the side for any possible emergencies. 

You set the grocery bag on the counter and went back into the hall to take your probably ruined shoes, bringing them to your minuscule bathroom and setting them on the floor in your shower, deciding on trying to salvage them later. 

On your way back to the living room you took your work bag with you. Opening the window first and letting the cold autumn breeze in, you sat down on the couch and fished around in your bag once again, looking for the cigarettes and lighter that you put separately into your purse. Once you found it, you chucked the bag without any care on the floor and leaned back on the couch, putting your bare feet up on the coffee table. 

You hissed as the raw meat on the back of your heel came into contact with the old glass top of the table that needed some proper cleaning, but ultimately did nothing to alleviate the pain. Instead, you took a single cigarette out of the package and rested it between your lips, inhaling at the same time as your fingers brought the fire from the lighter to life. 

You left the cigarette hung from your mouth, held by your dry lips, and leaned your head back, your hands splayed on the sides of your body. 

The fact was, you were exhausted. 

And you didn’t even have a good reason for it. 

Sure, work sucked. You worked like a dog only to be constantly overlooked and not earn enough. You were lying to your own mother every time you talked, pretending you were much more successful than you actually were, trying to get on her good side and receive any bit of praise. You hated living in your apartment. You were seeing a man who probably didn’t feel the same about you as you did about him. 

The only good thing was your high school friend, always by your side and ready to lend a shoulder to cry on or an ear to listen. 

Maybe you should go see a therapist. 

You closed your eyes and deeply breathed in the stale air that refused to move even with the window opened through the tobacco and filter. You wondered what Bakugo was doing right now. Maybe he was working on the paperwork in his office, sitting behind the big, wooden table that you’d once seen. Or maybe he was out, patrolling with one of his sidekicks, walking in the streets. Maybe he was covered with fake sweat, flexing his muscles for a shoot for another men's magazine. 

Your mind lingered on the image of that. 

His healthily tanned skin taut over his herculean muscles, the drops of water rolling down and creating a web of moisture, leaving goosebumps behind. 

You pressed your thighs together, putting a small amount of pressure on the nether part of your body. 

You thought back to all the passionate moments you’d spent with the pro hero. Bakugo might have been getting on your nerves lately due to his behaviour but he was an exceptional lover. He was the best you’d ever had, not that you would admit it out loud. That fiery personality of his projected itself well in the bedroom. 

You brought your hand to the cigarette between your lips, took it away from the dry skin and shook off the stack of ash that was growing bigger and bigger at the end of the tobacco. Even though the hot ash landed on the floor covered by very cheap linoleum that was slowly peeling in some corners, you didn’t care. 

“Fuck, you’re squeezin’ me so tight, princess,” Bakugo was panting above you, the drops of sweat rolling down his forehead, neck, and chest and occasionally landing on your damp skin. 

Your pussy was drooling on his dick, your juices wet on your inner thighs as well as his entire crotch and lower abdomen. He was bullying your body with his cock, repeatedly slamming it in and out of you at a fast pace. 

“Katsuki,” you pleaded. You didn’t even know what you were asking him — to slow down? To change the angle? To fuck you harder? Your brain was a mush at that point and all you could think about was him, him, him. 

“Not my name, sweetheart,” he grinned and slapped the top of your cunt with his hand, successfully hitting your clit. 

You winced and tried to comprehend what he just said to you. Once the words registered, you corrected your mistake. 

“Dyna- Dynamight!” His hero name on your lips was cut in half by your gasp. 

“There we go.” He praised you. He didn’t move his hands from your hips when he angled them more, making your back arch and your pussy more open for him. “Your pussy fits me like a fuckin’ glove.” 

Your head was swimming from all the sensations. Bakugo’s dirty talking, his hot breath hitting your calves while your legs were propped up on his shoulders, the blunt nails on his fingers digging into the skin of your hips, the tip of his dick dragging along your warm walls while he made sure you could feel him for several days to come. 

“Look at ya,” he continued. “My dick feels so good’ya can’t even think, huh? Did I fuck ya dumb, princess?” There was a mocking tone to his voice while he talked. 

In a normal situation, if you were having sex with anybody else, you would’ve been embarrassed. Both about the mocking and also about the fact that he was right. To be fair, none of your exes were able to fuck you good enough to get you into this state. But with Bakugo you couldn’t even manage to form thoughts coherent enough to feel the embarrassment at the moment. 

“Dynamight,” was all you managed to let slip from your lips. 

With the cigarette still between your lips, you unbuttoned your trousers and pushed your dominant hand under the fabric of your panties, the tight cotton sandwiching your fingers between the textile and your cunt. 

You circled your entrance to gather some moisture, your pussy just starting to get wet. With the now slick pad of your finger, you moved it upward, tucking it a little underneath the hood to touch your clit directly. 

Breathing out cigarette smoke from your nostrils, you leaned your head back, resting it against the headrest of your couch. With your eyes closed and a gentle sigh leaving your lips, you started moving the finger in circular motions. 

“That’s right, princess.” 

Your eyes were watering as you tried to swallow around the thickness of his cock in your throat. 

“Fuck yeah, just like that.” His grip on your hair tightened. You were running out of air and fighting your gag reflex when you put your palms on his strong thighs, ready to tap out at the last second in case you needed to. “Choke on my dick.” 

Your nose scrunched up against the neatly trimmed pubes as you gagged hard and you quickly tapped his thigh. Bakugo didn’t release your hair, instead, he tugged your head backwards so you would get him out of your mouth quickly. Your lips were red and swollen, covered in your own spit and as well as his precum, parted as you panted for air. Two tears rolled down both of your cheeks as you looked up at the man standing in front of you. 

“Good girl,” he sadistically grunted through his gritted teeth. “You’re such a good slut for me, aren’t ya?” 

You closed your eyes as he gently, almost affectionately, slapped your cheek a few times. 

“Open,” was all he said as he pushed two fingers into your mouth, reaching so far into your throat it made you gag again. 

You grabbed the butt of the cigarette with your hand that wasn’t down your pants and leaned over to your coffee table to put it out against the glass. Leaving the butt there, you reclined against the couch once again, moving your finger from your clit back to your entrance, adding a second one to cover them both in your wetness and pushing them inside of you, immediately targeting your g-spot. 

“Don’t stop.” 

Bakugo’s hand on your hip helped with guiding your movements, effectively pushing you up and down on his cock as you rode him. You were so close to him your nipples were rubbing against his chest with every motion and you were practically breathing each other’s air. The tip of him was deep inside of you and rubbed against your g-spot each time you moved. Your arms were resting on his shoulders. One hand was leaning your weight against his trapezius and the other one against the god-awfully expensive leather sofa of his which you were probably staining now. 

“Fuck,” he groaned so quietly you were only able to hear him thanks to the proximity. “You’re mine, do you understand?” His other hand, which wasn’t holding your hip but was snaked around your waist and pushing in between your shoulder blades so that you would be close to him, moved upwards and firmly, but not forcefully, squeezed the back of your neck. The gesture only made you feel that much closer to him. You nodded your head as fast as you could, but that was not enough of an answer for him. 

“Say it. Say you’re mine.” 

There was a certain desperation in his voice. Desperation that you heard for the first time with him. 

“I’m yours.” 

The words silently left your lips with a puff of air following suit. Bakugo wasted no time and kissed your lips passionately, seemingly putting all his feelings into it. 

But you knew better. 

“Say it again.” 

“I’m yours.” 

The buzz of your phone vibrating in your bag next to the sofa disrupted you. 

“Jesus fucking Christ.” You let out an angry grunt. 

You debated not picking it up and calling whoever it was that interrupted you later, but decided against it when you felt a considerable amount of guilt in your throat. What if it was important? 

You quickly pulled your hand out of your trousers and wiped your wet fingers on your blouse, leaving shiny, sticky splotches behind. Fumbling with the bag a little, you managed to find your phone just in time, not even looking at the caller ID as you swiped your finger against the screen and put it against your ear. 

“Hey.” 

Your body froze a little at the sound of the unusually cheery voice on the other end. He must have had a pretty good day, judging by his tone. 

“Uh, hi.” 

“Ya busy?” 

You straightened on the sofa and tried to clear your throat as discreetly as possible. 

“No, I was just cooking, sorry.” Lie. 

“Cool. Listen, we haven’t seen each other for a while so I wanted to call ya.” 

“That’s nice of you.” Bare. Fucking. Minimum. 

“Yeah. I can’t really talk now, I’m ‘bout to go grab a few beers with my mates. I’ll call ya later, so we can talk properly, yeah?” 

“Oh, sure.” You turned your head to look at the clock on the wall in your kitchen. It was already nearing eight o’clock, just how late did he mean to call? 

“Alright. I’ll talk to ya later.” 

He ended the call sooner than you could say goodbye. 

Your hand that was holding the phone to your ear fell limply against the couch with the device still between your fingers. You didn’t know if his call made you feel happy or even more pathetic. 

It was good that he called you, right? He obviously wanted to check up on you. And also promised to call you again later. 

So why were you feeling like this? Where did this feeling come from? 

You gulped the saliva that gathered between your teeth and the flesh of your cheek, accidentally swallowing a bit of air as well. 

No, you thought to yourself. He was trying. That was good enough for you. For now. 

You raised your hand with your phone again and unlocked it, opening a food delivery app. You debated between classic pizza and maybe something healthier, but your finger ultimately landed on the pizza picture on your screen, successfully tapping it into the cart. You chose the address for delivery and type of payment and locked your phone.  

Releasing a deep breath, you stood up and with your phone still in your hand walked the few steps to your bed. The pizza was supposed to be delivered in 30-60 minutes. Might as well masturbate properly with your vibrator in the meantime. 

»»————-　　————-«« 

After giving yourself two orgasms, eating the entire pizza and drinking several shots of soju, you fell asleep on your sofa just a few minutes after midnight. Bakugo didn’t call. 

»»————-　　————-««

It was several days later that you heard from him again. This time, he didn’t even bother with calling you; he decided that two texts would suffice. 

hey, sorry for not calling you the other day, i got wasted 

you wanna see each other sometime again? ;) 

‘That’s not a proper apology. Send him to hell.’ your friend replied when you sent them a screenshot of said messages. 

You were sitting behind the desk you were assigned at work, your hands idly resting on the keyboard of your computer, but your eyes were glued to your phone that lay locked next to your cup of coffee. You should send him a reply. 

“Do you have a minute?” 

You jerked in your seat involuntarily, the sudden proximity of the voice effectively scaring you. Your blood rushed to your cheeks, heating your face, when you realised you were caught slacking off. 

“Uh, yeah, sure.” You replied to your boss, not exactly enthusiastically. 

“Great.” He gave you a fake smile that didn’t reach his eyes and quickly left his lips and tapped the side of your cubicle a few times before he turned around and started walking towards his office, obviously expecting you to follow. 

You cleared your throat and got up from your seat, tugged your pencil skirt down a little and followed him as quickly as you could in the garment that was sexy and elegant, but also restrictive. 

You closed the door once you stepped into the personal office that was separated by glass walls from the rest of the cubicles where you and your colleagues worked. 

“Sit down.” Your boss moved his hand in the general direction of the seat that was positioned in front of his desk. 

The table was made of a grey and white particle board, as well as all the desks you and others worked on. The carpet in his office was originally the same shade of dark blue as the rest of the entire floor, but was less walked on and therefore managed to retain its colour better than the carpet in the rest of the space. 

The window behind his back that you were facing and that he liked to stare out of so often was as bleak as it always is this time of the year. The strange shift between autumn and winter when the weather gets even colder and the days even shorter, when you usually reach for your second-hand wool coat before leaving your apartment. 

“We need to talk.” 

You were fucked. 

»»————-　　————-««

Tears were rolling down your cheeks as you held the phone in your hand. 

When are you free? We need to talk. 

A small part of you wished Bakugo cared about you enough to actually get stressed after reading your message. But the more rational part of you knew that that wasn’t the case. The pro-hero with a super-inflated ego wouldn’t get anxious due to a mildly threatening message from an average journalist who had had his balls in her mouth not so long ago. 

Unemployed journalist. 

You debated calling your mother but ultimately decided against it. You weren’t in the headspace to deal with that kind of phone call. 

You also considered calling your friend. 

You didn’t, though. 

You knew they would pity you. You didn’t want people to pity you. You just needed somebody to listen. And maybe a hug. But none of the people you were in contact with or that were in your life would ever just listen. 

So you were left all alone with all these feelings that felt just too heavy on your chest. A lead that made it hard to breathe, a lead that your muscles had to actively fight against to fill your lungs with much-needed air. A lead that made you drag your feet against the pavement. 

Your phone buzzed in your hand. 

this thursday at 5pm, come to my apartment

You didn’t even open the message to properly read it, your eyes just skimmed over the message in the notification on your lock screen before you stuffed the electronic device in your bag once again. 

Good, you thought for yourself. You had three days to somewhat get your shit together before visiting him. As much as you had feelings for a certain pro-hero, you were not about to let him see you like this. 

Especially not since you were determined to end whatever the weird situationship between the two of you was. 

»»————-　　————-«« 

You rested the back of your head against the cool mirror behind you. The extra thick layer of concealer underneath your eyes to hide the dark circles was slowly creasing even though you’d used enough powder to set it… you could almost feel it. 

The Visine in your eyes to make them appear whiter and not like you cried just this morning felt unnatural – too watery and a tiny bit stingy when you closed your eyes for long enough. 

Your thought process? Don’t let him see your weakness. Don’t look like you actually care about this ‘relationship’. Could you even call it that? Could you call this situationship a relationship when he kept you secret from the public and his friends as well? When all he ever wanted to do with you lately was to fuck you? 

The odd smell of the hairspray that you had used deliberately to keep your hair bouncy was almost palpable in the air, even though you used quite a lot of perfume. Those two smells as well as the lingering stench of a cigarette you smoked earlier combined were almost suffocating you, pressing down on your person, making you feel smaller and smaller. 

The supposedly calming music that was playing in the elevator was paradoxically making you even more nervous. 

The trousers you decided to wear that day made your ass look extra good, but cut into your stomach every time you sat down – a decision you, again, made on purpose. To get it over with quicker. You can’t even really sit down with these on. Plus, obviously, it wouldn’t be bad to remind him what he was going to lose, right? One last look at your ass was all you were going to grant him. 

Saying that you were uncomfortable was an understatement. 

You lost your job just a few days ago. It was clear to you you’d have to consider moving soon; the shitty apartment you lived in was cheap, but not cheap enough to keep while unemployed. And now, on top of your job and an apartment, you were about to lose him. 

Maybe it was a good thing, though. Even though he made you feel like you were on cloud nine in the beginning, showering you with affection and spending most of his free time with you, lately all you’d been getting from whatever was happening between you two was stress and anxiety. Self-doubt. More insecurities. 

Besides, were you really going to lose him? Could a person lose something they’ve never had in the first place? 

Your mind wandered on its own to your favourite memory with him. It was still quite fresh, you could remember it as if it had happened a few days ago, even though in reality it had been weeks. 

Your head resting on Bakugo’s thigh, the sound of the television and the feeling of his fingers playing with your hair inevitably lulling you to sleep. Your belly was comfortably full thanks to the amazing dinner Bakugo had cooked for you. 

“You’re sleepin’.” 

“Am not.” You replied, but you could hear it in your own voice, the tiredness and how you slightly slurred your words, your eyes still closed. His smell and proximity was just making you feel so, so safe.

A sigh left your lips as your hand moved on its own and started rummaging in the small purse that you’d brought with you. The fluorescent light in the elevator did nothing to flatter your appearance, quite the opposite, actually. You found the lip gloss you were wearing that day in the depths of your bag and reapplied it generously. You gave yourself another look in the mirror as you stuffed the small thing back into the bag. 

God, it looked like you’d tried too hard. 

Quickly, with only a few stories left, you tried to card your fingers through your hair to make them messier and ruin your appearance a little. Your hand flew to your lips to wipe off all the gloss you’d just put on as the door of the elevator opened to Bakugo’s floor. 

You hesitantly stepped inside of the apartment and took off your shoes, the elevator door closing behind you. Leaving your coat and scarf on the hanger that was situated in the dead end of the hallway, you then stepped in the other direction to actually get further into the flat. 

Your feet were quiet on the overpriced Persian runner rug, so you called his name to announce your arrival. 

“Hey.” 

You were looking directly at his back as you walked into the more open space and the centre of the floor. With his back to you and broad shoulders covered by a simple oversized black hoodie, he was standing right in front of a kitchen counter, probably mixing something judging by the sound of it. 

“Hi.” You replied, your voice lacking the usual enthusiasm that laced it whenever you were with him. You put your purse on the couch in the living area and walked closer to where Bakugo was standing. 

“Hope you’re hungry.” He said without raising his head or really looking at you. 

When you came close enough, you were actually able to see what he was cooking – tamagoyaki. 

“Not really.” You’d kill for some tamagoyaki at that moment, to be honest. “I'm not planning on staying long, actually.” You crossed your arms over your chest and leaned your weight against the kitchen counter, resting your hip against it. 

“Hm.” Was all he said. 

You watched as he poured another part of the egg mixture into the pan, helping it spread by tilting the metal and sort of pushing the liquid with chopsticks. 

Bakugo was an amazing chef. You’d asked him about it when you were eating curry rice during one of the occasions that you’d visited his flat and his response was a grunt and cookin’s not that hard. 

“You know why I’m here, right?” You asked. 

You hoped that he would say it first. Yer leavin’ me. You had prayed that he would say it, make it easier for you. Spare you from having to force air over your vocal cords and formulate the sounds with your tongue and lips. 

He didn’t. 

The silence stretched on as he seemingly minded his business, rolling the tamagoyaki into a perfect little roll and adding more egg mixture. 

“I can’t…” You started but cut yourself off. You gave it another thought before you started again. “This has to end.” 

Bakugo didn’t move a single muscle to indicate any sort of reaction he might’ve had. You watched him finally move as he took two bowls out of his kitchen cabinet and nodded his head in the direction of the kitchen aisle. 

“Siddown, food’s almost ready.” 

He started filling the bowls with steaming rice straight from the rice cooker while the egg was frying on the pan. 

“I said I’m not hungry. I’m not here to eat.” 

“And I didn’ ask.” 

“Stop treating me like a child.” Anger was gathering in the pit of your stomach, twisting it more than it already was. 

“Then stop actin’ like one.” 

A moment of silence. 

You were speechless. 

A lump formed in your throat, successfully gagging you and preventing you from defending yourself. You could feel them, the tears forming in your eyes, threatening to fall over your lower lash line and roll down your cheeks. 

“Please, siddown so ya can eat your food.” 

You swallowed around the tightness in your throat and just nodded your head, not trusting your voice to keep steady. Without another word, you walked around the kitchen aisle and sat down on one of the tall bar stools, resting your forearms on the cold granite countertop. The stone was cold enough to sting your already cold skin, goosebumps forming on your arms. 

After not even two minutes the meal appeared in front of you – a bowl of rice, another bowl of miso soup with tofu, a plate filled with cut tamagoyaki and a small bowl of steamed spinach with garlic. 

“Eat up,” Bakugo said as he put his own bowls and plate on the countertop, sitting next to you. 

The food was warm, filling your tummy with a nice feeling. 

“It’s delicious.” You complimented after a few careful bites. You meant it. 

“It’s alright.” 

Ever the critic. Even when it comes to himself. 

The two of you were eating in silence, only the sounds of chewing and slurping filling the air. 

Bakugo raised his eyes from his meal when he noticed your reluctance to continue eating about halfway through the meal. 

“Why aren’ ya eatin’?” 

You could hear the disapproval in his voice. Not worry, not even concern. Just disapproval. 

“Uhm,” you started, but couldn’t finish your sentence. 

The godforsaken jeans you’d decided to wear were digging into your stomach painfully, to a point where a sharp pain was shooting up your chest. And you filling your belly more wasn’t helping it. 

“D’ya not like it?” 

“No! No, that’s not it.” You moved a piece of the omelette with your chopsticks around on the plate. “It really is delicious.” 

Hmph. 

You chewed on your lower lip. Bakugo was obviously unhappy with your answer. He was still staring you down. 

“I’m wearing my standing jeans.” You admitted after a few seconds. 

“Standin’ jeans.” He repeated, obviously not understanding the term. 

“Yeah. Standing jeans. Jeans that look great when you stand up, but you can't really sit down in them because they’re too tight.” 

Your laughable reason was met with silence, he was obviously letting you stew in the ridiculousness of it all. 

“They’re too tight when I sit down, they dig into my stomach.” 

Bakugo blinked at you once before he rolled his eyes and without a word got up and left the kitchen, disappearing in the direction of his bedroom. 

You heard some sounds coming from the other side of the flat before he reappeared with grey sweatpants in his hand, handing them to you. 

“Change.” 

“I’m not going to change into your sweatpants.” You protested, looking at the fabric in his extended hand. “I didn’t even want to stay here. Nor eat your food. Can we just get this over with?” 

You were this close to begging him. This close. Begging him to say the final words, those ones you had no guts to really say. Even though they were long overdue. 

“Ya look like shit.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Ya heard me. Ya look like a’mess. Change'nto those damn sweatpants and finish your food.” 

You looked from his face to the sweatpants he was still holding out for you. Reluctantly, you took them and stood up, immediately feeling the relief in your midsection. You walked back into the hallway where you came from and disappeared in the door on the left – Bakugo’s bathroom. 

You peeked a look at yourself in the mirror immediately after closing the door behind you. He was right. You looked like shit. The concealer was cakey under your eyes; the foundation was sitting on your skin almost unnaturally, making you look like you were wearing some sort of a mask. The mascara formed spider legs on your lower lash line – where some stray tears had gathered. The Visine you had used obviously wasn’t working.

You could just leave the apartment. Just leave and not look back. Obviously, he would get the hint, right? 

Leave and not say a word. Save yourself from the uncomfortable conversation, the uncomfortable feelings that would inevitably bubble up your chest and settle in your throat. 

You sighed and put some liquid hand soap in your palm, turning on the water with your other hand. Smearing the soap across your face, you rubbed hard enough to get the mask off your face, so you could feel the inevitable tears on your skin without any barrier between the two. The soap was slightly stinging as it got into your eyes, but it didn’t stop you from rubbing your face with your nails until your skin was all red and the makeup was now underneath your fingernails. 

It didn’t matter if you wore your mask or not. Not anymore. He had seen right through it. Might as well bare yourself to him. 

Looking up at yourself in the mirror, you saw the black streaks of mascara all over your face, which made you dunk your face into the watery, soapy concoction for longer, until it was running down your forearms and to your elbows, dripping down onto the grey rug on the floor. It didn’t bother you at this point. 

You only opened your eyes again when you ran out of breath, now looking at beet-red skin with two bloodshot eyes that were staring back at you in the mirror. 

That would do for now. 

Opening the drawer underneath the bathroom sink, you knew exactly where to look to find the hair accessories Bakugo kept for all his hookups. Grabbing the ones you needed, you pinned your slightly damp hair out of your face. Stripping off your standing jeans, you folded them neatly into a nice square before you put on the grey sweatpants that were ill-fitting on you. 

It didn’t matter now. 

Didn’t matter what you looked like. 

You sniffled a little and opened the door, emerging into the hallway and letting only the slight taps of your feet announce your entry to the kitchen. 

Bakugo looked up from his meal, unphased, and nodded his head to himself. 

“Thanks for the sweats.” You put your jeans on the counter to your right, where there was empty space. 

“No problem.” 

That was actually kind of nice of him. 

Your brain whined in your head. 

He wasn’t supposed to be nice to you. Not now. Not when you needed a final push to end this. Like a coward. 

“Is al’this just ‘cause of me, or did somethin’ else happen?” 

You stayed silent for a while, instead putting in your mouth a spoonful of miso soup with a piece of tofu. 

Should you be honest with him, or lie? 

…It didn’t matter anymore, did it? 

“I got fired.” 

You stuffed your face with the fried egg. 

It was really nice to eat a warm meal after some time. Only now that you were wearing his sweatpants and your entire stomach wasn’t hurting from those damn jeans did you realise how much you actually relished the feeling of warmth filling you up. 

“Sorry t’hear that.” 

All you replied was a low hum from the back of your throat, continuing to fill the dark, empty space inside of you with the home-cooked meal. 

“Ya wanna talk ‘bout it?” He asked after a minute. 

You could see in your peripheral that he was looking at you now, pausing his eating. 

“Not really.” 

After that, the two of you finished eating in silence. Once you accepted that Bakugo knew you weren’t alright, the silence actually turned comfortable. 

You couldn’t stop yourself from thinking things over while the two of you were eating. Was this really the last time you’d ever see him? He deserved to get dumped for how badly he had treated you, right? 

Maybe he had his reasons. Maybe something in his life happened the same way you got fired just recently? 

You shook your head from side to side discreetly as you swallowed down another mouthful. It was too late. You came here for a reason, and that reason was exactly what you were mulling over now. 

Don’t be a fucking coward. 

It was the right thing to do. 

Bakugo treated you as disposable. If that was what you were to him, there was no reason for you to stay. 

Were you ready to prove to yourself that you truly were disposable to him, though? 

You realised you had been staring at now empty plates and bowls in front of you only when Bakugo’s hand appeared in the picture to collect the dishes. 

“Thank you for the food, it was really nice.” 

“Hm.” 

You stayed seated at the kitchen island as you watched him neatly put the bowls and plates into the dishwasher. It was obvious that he followed a certain system. You didn’t even consider getting up and offering any help. You knew him well enough to know that he would scold you and tell you to sit down again. 

Your eyes drifted over his body while he was bending down to put the porcelain away. The way his back muscles moved underneath the fabric, the way the dirty blonde hair at the nape of his neck brushed against the skin. 

You could almost feel it. Feel his muscles move under your fingers, taste his skin on the tip of your tongue. 

Your eyes followed his movement as he finally turned around once he was done, resting his backside against the kitchen counter and crossing his arms over his chest. Your eyes met and your look didn’t falter. It didn’t. 

“So ya wanna break up?” 

You let him win and looked down at your lap. All you saw was the grey fabric that belonged to him. 

“Is it really a break-up if we haven’t even properly dated?” You dared to raise your eyes again. 

“Fair enough.” 

It was him now that looked down. You won this round. 

You were sitting on the bar stool in silence while he was just standing there, in the kitchen, the kitchen island creating sort of a safe barrier between you two. Your fingers were fidgeting in your lap, trying to make your mind focus on anything else than what was really going on in your head. 

Don’t say it. 

Don’t. 

“What happened?” 

You winced. You said it. 

“Whaddya mean?” 

This was a mistake. 

You abruptly got up and grabbed your jeans from the countertop. You were leaving in his sweatpants. You’ll send them back to him sometime later. 

“Wait.” 

You could hear his hurried footsteps following you to the living room area where you collected your purse from the couch. 

“Wait, god dammit,” he grabbed your arm and spun you around so you could face him. “What didya mean by that?” 

You were staring at the neckline of his hoodie, tears smudging your vision. There was not enough of them to roll over the notional barrier, but enough of them for you to fear that they would. 

“What didya mean by that?” He repeated the question. Now that he was so close to you, his voice got much softer. Much quieter. 

That along with the smell of his cologne and deodorant made you realise just how much you’d missed him. The emotion filled your body with a strange feeling of sorrow and grief. 

His hand left your arm and you craved for his touch to return. 

“What happened?” Your voice sounded broken. It felt like it was another person talking rather than you, you couldn’t recognise it. “It was so nice at the start.” 

You dared to look up at him, which turned out to be a mistake. The movement sent the drops of salty water over the edge of your waterline. You felt them rolling down your cheeks to your chin where they connected into one and dripped down. 

Bakugo’s vermillion eyes followed the movement of the liquid on your face. He almost looked guilty. 

“I don’ know whaddya want me t’say.” 

“The truth.” 

He looked away from you for a few seconds while he put his hands in his pockets. It was clear he was debating it. Whether or not he should really be honest with you. 

“You owe me that much.” You encouraged him to talk even though you didn’t want to hear it. You wanted to be anywhere else with anybody else than in his apartment with him. Maybe you were a masochist. 

“I used ya.” 

Fresh tears started streaming down your face as soon as his words registered in your brain. His saying it out loud made it all too real. If he hadn’t admitted it, you could still pretend it was something else. You could pretend and make yourself feel better about it. When he admitted it you lost the possibility and comfort of gaslighting yourself into thinking he had a good reason. 

He had enough sense to look at the floor almost shamefully when he carried on. 

“I had a lottov things goin’ on ada time. Ya distracted me from it.” 

You blinked harshly to force the water from your eyes out. The gentle gasp for air left your lips even though you tried to fight it, to conceal it from him. 

“’M sorry. I thought I could give ya more, ‘cause you’re really nice.” 

“Yeah, well… really nice doesn’t seem to cut it, does it?”  

You both stood there in silence for a few more beats before you felt his hand on your cheek, his thumb smearing the tear away from underneath your eye. 

“Don’t.” 

It was a quiet plea, a quiet plea that sounded too much like a whimper, leaving your lips parted after rolling off them. 

“I meant what I said.” He pulled his hand away from your cheek, moving it to the other and wiping your tears there as well with the upper side of his index finger. “Ya are nice.” 

“Whatever.” You removed your face from his touch, eyes glued to the floor. 

“Spend the night.” 

Was it an order, or a request? You didn’t know, but the sentence froze your feet to the floor before you could turn and make your exit. 

“What?” 

“Listen, listen. No funny business. Just, spend the night. Ya can sleep inda guest room.” He added the last sentence almost as an afterthought. 

Your eyebrows were furrowed above your eyes that were moving from right to left, going from one red eye to the other, trying to gauge the sincerity of his statement. 

“Spend the night.” He repeated once more, his voice just barely above a whisper. 

Your mind was screaming at you to get the hell out of that apartment, but you felt yourself nod. 

A masochist. 

“Yeah?” He was making sure. 

“Yeah,” you whispered, not even looking him in the eye. The lump in your throat was making you feel like you could choke on it and you already felt bad for betraying yourself like this and agreeing to his outrageous request. You couldn’t bear the way he was definitely looking at you on top of all of that. 

Bakugo gently put his hand on your shoulder and guided you back into the heart of his apartment. 

“D’ya wanna watch some movie?” He led you to the couch so you sat down on it without any protest. 

“Sure.” 

He sat down next to you, not really close, but not far away from you either, turning the TV on and switching to the streaming service on it immediately. 

You kept biting the inside of your cheek and looking everywhere else than at the TV or him. Hearing the opening of a movie, you raised your eyes to the big screen mounted on the wall. Your throat went dry as soon as you realised what was playing. 

“No, something else.” You demanded quickly. “I wanna watch something new.” 

Bakugo looked at you for a few seconds and then nodded his head, taking the TV remote in his hand once again and switching the movie to a different one. 

The movie that he initially pressed play on was a movie you talked about with him. You could still remember how you gushed about it, mentioning how it was your favourite movie growing up and saying the words we should watch it together sometime. Of course, that 'sometime' never really came. So, now you wouldn’t let him do this. You wouldn’t let him taint your movie. This was yours. He had no right to claim this thing as well. 

You wouldn’t let him have this because that would mean that at some point he actually listened to you. It would mean that at some point he might’ve tried if he cared enough.  

The sound of a different movie playing commanded your attention then and so you tried to tune in as much as possible. Just from the music, you could tell that it was an action movie. 

“Real’ like this one.” 

You wished he didn’t say those words. 

»»————-　　————-««

You were probably in the middle of the movie and lucky for you, you were already able to say that you hated it. Loud explosions, ridiculous situations, plot with holes. Surprisingly, Bakugo liked a Hollywood action movie with too big of a budget. 

Your eyes drifted from the TV screen to the window. Living this high up definitely had its perks. The view being one of the main ones. You remembered how naïve you had been when this situationship started. How you had thought maybe if this goes well, I’ll be looking at the same view every morning. 

“Ya don’t like it?” 

Ever the observant. 

You turned your head to the other side, looking at Bakugo who was looking right back at you. You bit your lip and shrugged your shoulders. 

“It’s fine.” 

You didn’t want to be mean but you also didn’t want to lie about liking it. 

“Fine?” 

Wrong answer, apparently. 

“I guess I just wasn’t in the mood for an action movie.” You tried to calm him down a little. Lying it was then. 

“Shoulda told me that hour and a'half ago. Dammit.” 

You watched him as he grabbed the remote and exited the movie. 

“What are ya inda mood for, then?” 

You watched his profile illuminated by the light from the TV screen for a few seconds. He was so beautiful it almost pained you. The constantly furrowed brows you almost couldn’t see because of his hair covering his entire forehead, his perfect nose, the shape of his lips. His skin without blemishes, apart from a few small scars, even though he didn’t really have a skincare routine. 

You remembered how you imagined what your possible babies would look like. They’d be perfect. 

“So?” He asked impatiently when you hadn’t answered immediately. 

His eyes met yours when you decided what to do. 

Moving closer to him, you leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. Just as you remembered. He still tasted the same. It was Bakugo who leaned back, looking at you. Making sure you knew what you were doing. You leaned in more, kissing him again. Gently, almost tenderly. What if this was the last time you ever got to taste him? You relished the feeling, trying to commit to your memory as much as you could. His taste, his smell, the way his lips felt against you. The kiss got interrupted when he pressed his forehead against yours. 

“Are ya sure ya can handle it?”

You knew what he meant. Are you sure you can handle that, emotionally? Are you sure it won’t ruin you even more?  You couldn't help yourself. Bakugo was like a scab you couldn't stop picking at. An open wound that just wouldn't heal. He was your weak spot.

“No.” You said with your voice all breathy, kissing him once again, this time more passionately. Bakugo reciprocated without missing a beat, one of his hands grabbing the side of your face and the other one going straight to your waist. Not even a few seconds in, you swung one of your legs over his thighs, straddling him without breaking the kiss. 

You were eager. 

And Bakugo was just as eager as you. 

Part of your brain hated this. Hated how good his touch felt, hated how familiar all of this was. How safe you felt right in that moment and just how vulnerable and exposed it was all at the same time. You felt weak. 

Bakugo’s hand that was on your waist moved to your hip and gripped it tightly, pushing you back and forth, guiding your movements so you would grind against him. There was impatience in the movements from both of you. You knew where it was coming from on your end but the implications of it coming from him made your heart drop in your chest. 

“Need you.” You half whined against his lips before you quickly stood up and took off the sweatpants he had lent you. Bakugo followed suit – he took off his trousers hastily and welcomed you back in his lap with open arms, immediately grabbing at your flesh and squeezing what he could. 

“Couldn’t leave ‘thout one last fuck, could ya?” He growled against your skin when he moved his lips to your neck and started kissing and nibbling it. 

You let out a quiet moan and grabbed his growing bulge through his boxers, the thin fabric the only thing separating you from him. He was almost fully hard already, huffing against your neck as you stroked him. 

“Fuck, okay, lemme go grab a condom.” The hero parted from your neck momentarily and was about to get you off of him and get up when you stopped him. 

“No!” 

You surprised yourself with how quickly you objected to that. Bakugo stopped himself and gave you a look. 

“No,” you said calmer this time. “I wanna feel you.” 

You deserved it. You deserved this. You deserved at least one good thing in your life. And he would be the one to give it to you. You didn't need his love or affection. All you needed was a piece of him.

You pushed his underwear down just enough so his balls and dick, now fully hard, were free and stroked it, eliciting an almost painfully sounding groan from the man. 

“I wanna feel you tonight.” You repeated, pushing your own panties to the side and lining him up with your entrance. 

You definitely needed more prep than this, you knew that it would be an uncomfortable stretch and that you weren’t wet nearly enough to help with it, but you couldn’t wait any longer. 

You groaned from the slight sting, it was a bit worse than you expected it to be. 

“Shit, easy.” Bakugo put his hand on your hip to slow you down a bit. “No need’da hurry. We got all night, princess.” 

»»————-　　————-«« 

You sat on the bathroom floor in your mother’s flat, having to temporarily move in with her due to your unemployment. The phone you kept pressed against your ear kept ringing and ringing. To be honest, you were expecting it to go straight to a voicemail right away. 

“Yeah?” He picked it up probably at the last possible ring. 

“Hey.” You greeted him. “Listen, could we talk?” You bit your lip as you looked at the positive pregnancy test in your hand. 

#bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo #bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #pro hero bakugou #pro hero bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo katuski x reader #bakugo x you #bakugou x reader #bakugo smut #bakugo katsuki smut #katsuki bakugo smut #bakugo angst #bakugou angst #bakugo katsuki angst #tw: baby trapping #ves writes

[olderthannetfic]

Being a trans man and not being an anti is also isolating, which is part of why I think trans guys gravitate towards either being an anti or reposting anti posts. If you're not an anti, you get booted from discord servers, blocked on social media at best or sent misgendering rape threats, death threats and suicide bait by other trans men at worst, and now that I'm in college I've found IRL that not being an anti makes a lot of people in queer spaces available to the average college student incredibly uncomfortable. So you have to either be entirely alone - which is very difficult when you're young, queer, and just coming into your own identity - or you have to be around it a lot without saying a word. Agreeing with it at first wouldn't even be necessary. You just have to not say anything against it, and then you'll be able to be around other people.

It doesn't help that most trans men who get sucked into anti circles are teens at the time. There's 501 proposed anti-LGBT laws right now, not counting everything that has passed, the majority of it anti-trans. If you're a teenage boy seeing all this transphobia on the rise, you're going to feel powerless. Bullying people like antis do makes you feel power over at least a few people. Being told you can consume your way into being a good person via media intake makes you feel like you have power and control over at least that.

I was sucked in incrementally because I wasn't exposed to the more violent antis who fantasized about murder and hurting people for writing fiction, I met my only friend - who was an anti - after my dad had beaten me for coming out as trans, and I was sixteen. I got out when I was eighteen because once I went to live with my mom, a psychologist, she gently corrected me when I would say things that aren't based in fact. She pointed out how upset these people were making me. She taught me how to fact-check claims and look into the veracity of claims.

And when I tried to convey to my friends that no, what they were saying wasn't supported, they turned on me. Including the only person who had been there for me when I was hatecrimed, who had reached out to me specifically because she met me what day. I lost every friend I had in roughly 30 hours.

If I hadn't had a really great mom, a very intelligent rabbi who's well-versed in psychology and is a former lawyer who saw the "fiction made me do it" excuse used to defend heinous crimes and doesn't buy it, and an older half-sister who lived through people calling her a psycho lesbian because she's a lesbian who played D&D, listened to metal and dressed Goth in small-town Montana in the 80's/90's, I would have probably killed myself. Having those three people who accepted me and did not accept this extremist rhetoric kept me sane and repaired my self-esteem enough to keep me going.

But a lot of people don't have three adults who are intelligent, supportive, and know better than to fall for this faux-psychology. A lot of people don't even have one. Often, they have unsupportive people who also believe firmly in the faux-psychology of "if you watch a thing you'll do that thing IRL". So there's not only no one hauling them out of this, it's getting reinforced.

Being a non-anti who is a trans man gets me a lot of shit from a lot of people online and offline. (As other anons have mentioned during the ace discourse, online talking points come up on college campuses and in real life, because the internet is not an alternate dimension, it is something being used by the people around you who exist in the same physical space as you.)

A reality that I don't think people want to discuss is that trans men, just like all other people of all other genders, suffer a lot of psychological distress if they're put in a position where they have no support. I sure as fuck wasn't happy being in a position where I went from having tons of online friends, discord servers I could hang out in and fandoms I associated with good vibes to none of that, plus harassment, plus massive misgendering.

It's a lot less awful of an existence to be a trans man and an anti when you're young and need community and support than it is to not be an anti and be isolated. And humans gravitate towards the least awful option 99% of the time.

--

Yuuup.

Having some kind of real support network, usually offline but at the very least not randos you met a day ago on discord, is vital and is the difference between not only whether you rot in a pit of antidom forever but in stemming the massive flood of trans teen suicides. The overall queer rates aren't great, but the specifically trans rates... they're bad. They're so, so bad.

[yourlocalcryptidbee]

⭐NSFW Alphabet with Lucifer Morningstar

Good old NSFW Alphabet with our favourite duck man. Grab some snacks and a beverage, get comfy and enjoy <3

Template can be found here

~1.4k words

GN! Reader, mentions of makeup

Content Warning: NSFW, not proof read

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He’s attentive to your needs. The literal king of aftercare, whatever you want he can provide. A bath? You got it. Cuddles? A snack? A walk in the garden? Hell, more sex? You got it!  

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He likes his tongue, plain and simple. The power he has over you with it is his favourite thing. Watching how you squirm just because of this one part of him, he’s ready to blow a load just thinking about it! You on the other hand, oh he’s tied between your thighs and your chest. The way your legs shake just that little bit when he’s doing something right? Or the way your chest HEAVES after you cum? It’s too good! 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Would eat your cum breakfast, lunch and dinner if given the chance. And trust, he’s tried to do that on multiple occasions. You stop him, saying something about having a “balanced diet” whatever that means…  

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Lucifer fantasizes about you riding him during a meeting. He’s caught himself thinking about you sitting on his lap, while he’s on the throne, bouncing up and down restlessly like your soul depends on it. He’ll sit and envision what everyone else’s reaction would be, although he isn’t the biggest fan of sharing so maybe this will have to stay a fantasy…until he can learn to hold that many clones of himself that is (;

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

This man has been around since before the creation of humanity, over 10,000 years! At least 8,000 of those years having sex with either Lilith or Eve. So yes, Lucifer knows what he’s doing, and he knows he knows that he’s good at it. It’s named ‘The devil’s tango’ for a reason ya’ll. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Spooning or really anything where all of him is pressed into all of you. He just wants to hold you, whatever position that may be. He may be sexy but he is still damaged, and this is vulnerable. Just let him lay all his lovin on you ok? 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Depends heavily on the foreplay, but on average he’ll start a lil goofy and turn more serious as the act goes on. But always be ready for a wayward joke here and there. Sometimes it’s just too good to pass up! (just like how having sex with you is too good to pass up)

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He’s kept himself surprisingly well-groomed after his seven-year isolation. It’s trim and orderly the first time you see it, though it doesn’t matter that much because it’s such a pale blonde, that it’s basically invisible.  

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

My God, this man is bursting at the seams with love for you. His heart swells so much that it starts to hurt when he thinks about how he gets to participate in such a vulnerable and personal thing like sex with you. The most hated being in creation and you willing run into his trap, arms open and ready to envelop him in pleasure. Even if you can’t see it in his face or his words during the moment, he is always just so thankful that you could love him like this. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

At least once a day. He can’t help himself, plus he doesn’t have much going on most days sooo why not? No one’s stopping him, well you might but that's just cause you would rather help him than let him do it on his own.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

It is Lucifer, he’s got the words ‘corruption kink’ written on his goddamn head. (attached to the neck or the shaft, dealer’s choice) Like dirty talk is a lot of ‘What would your Father Even think of you now? On your knees for me? Hm? Darling, I can’t hear you~’. They want him to be the antichrist? Fine. Spread your legs and give him until the sun rises and he’ll show just how cruel he can be. 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

His Throne, it’s the one place where he knows that no other person could even sit, let alone have sex on. This is the Sin of Pride, of course, his favourite place is centred around his power. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

When you call him yours, my king, my love, my slut. The little choice in wording that shows that you understand just how much of his heart you own, and that is all of it by the way. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

While you’ve never done this because you understand, it turns him off real quick if you bring up his past love, Lilith. They’ve been divorced for years and he’s moved on but still, it rubs him the wrong way if you were to ask if ‘Lilith could fuck you like this, if she could love you like this or make you moan the way I do?’ Just No.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

10s 10s 10s all across the board! 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Again, depends on the foreplay but also how his depression is. If he is slipping into or is in another episode than its all sweet nothings, slow and romantic. If not than he’s more willing to go as fast as your body can handle. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Lucifer rathers to not have quickies but it happens. To him, it feels like he can’t make sure that you’re both getting what you want and he’d rather sell his soul to Alastor than leave you unsatisfied because of a goddamn time constraint. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He may be skeptical but he’ll try it. You got to try to know if you’ll like it. Plus you got quite the funny story from failed attempts at some things but that's part of the fun aint it?

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He’s the Devil from the Bible! Lucifer is quite literally otherworldly, his stamina doesn’t run out, it’s allllllll on how long you hold on for, baby. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Not the biggest fan of toys but if your adamant, he’ll give them a go again. Although ropes will always be on the table for him (;

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

A constant tease! All day, every day honey. He thrives when teasing you but as soon as the tables turn he is melting like that! That being said, he’s learnt to be careful with how much he teases you, least he want a repeat of that day at that gala, and seeing as Ozzie still makes fun of him for it, he’d rather not. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

His bedroom is soundproof. That’s explanation enough.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He loves it when you leave markings on him, scratches, bites, hickeys or d) all of the above. Don’t get him started on when your lipstick stains his face or clothes. Minimum 30% of all of his shirts have a crisp kiss mark on the collar and Lucifer wouldn’t have it any other way.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Matches the rest of him pretty well, on the thin side as well as a blinding white colour while hitting a comfortable 7.8 inches. He knows exactly how to use it too. No wonder Lilith felt like That Bitch. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Need it being said? His sex drives rivals that of Angel Dust. Don’t start something you can’t finish.  

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

If the two of you aren’t cuddling then he doesn’t fall asleep until it’s almost sunrise. If you do snuggle up on him then it’s lights out real quick. That mix of sex, your shampoo and your body against his is his ultimate melatonin. 

#hazbin lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer x you #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne

[thetreefairy]

A sickly endeavor

warnings: isolation, muzan using the upper demons to keep you trapped, forced medicine intake, talks about punishments, muzan using reader's mental state against them, reader is genderfluid but in this fic she/her pronouns are used. [yes this is kinda a self-insert]

tip me

Reader hated this, Reader hated being treated like someone that could die instantly. She can, yes, but she knew that her self-proclaimed dad would turn her into a demon right away.

The question is why hasn't he yet?

Does he like seeing her suffer, does he like knowing that Reader has to depend on him?

Perhaps.

Reader hopes its the first time, because the second one would freak her out.

"Come on, you need to take your medication." Douma snapped, losing his patience, which was rather out of character for him. "Awhhh, am I finally getting to you?" Reader joked with a grin, oh how she loved annoying Douma. Douma sighed: "You shouldn't neglect your health as a way to spite your dad-"

"Not my dad."

'As I was saying, spite him in different ways." Douma sighed. "How? By getting a s/o?" Reader hissed. She was done with this, she wanted to go out and move around while she still can. "Or sneaking out."

Reader looked at him shocked. "You should really watch your mouth, Douma." Douma chuckled. "Awh, are you concerned? You're finally healthy enough to move around. If Muzan wants your love he should at least listen to you."

Reader chuckled. "While I agree with you, I will never love him."

"Douma, must I even forbid you from speaking to my daughter? Are you so pathetic that you cannot even get them to take their medicine?" Muzan's voice interrupted them. Reader groaned; "Don't you dare forbid Douma from speaking to me, he's too fun while you are not."

Douma chuckled nervously at this statement, he was acting rather out of character. But reader paid no attention to it, she wanted to annoy Muzan enough so that she didn't have to take her meds.

"Douma get out." Muzan hissed, causing Reader to whine and cling to Douma. "Nooo."

Muzan took Reader from Douma as he left. "You truly are a child." Muzan mumbled as he grabbed some pills. "Hey! I am a teenager, at least get it right when you want to insult me."

"My point isn't to insult you, but to remind you that you need me." This caused Reader to roll her eyes. "As you cannot even take your medication yourself."

"Oh I can, I just don't out of spite."

"Which proves my point." Muzan hissed. "Perhaps isolation would do you well no one speaking to you. Or being immobilized, needing help to even go to the bathroom."

Reader's eyes widened, she didn't want one of his so called punishments. "Maybe even both." He hissed as he forced Reader to take her pills.

Reader swallowed them afraid of the consequences. "Or should I take you to the nearest town, and show you what will happen to everyone if you run away." Muzan continues happily, knowing how much Reader loved that town.

"Why do you keep me sick?" She blurted out, afraid of what will happen. Muzan chuckled: "Why, are you saying that your father is keeping you ill? Are those voices telling you lies again?"

Reader is threading on a thin line, she knows it. But she asks again, causing Muzan's face to harden.

"Because how else will i keep you here, so weak and pathetic."

#treefairy🧚‍♂️🍁 #platonic yandere #soft yandere #yandere x darling #male yandere #yandere father #fluff #angst #yandere demon #yandere demon slayer #yandere kibutsuji muzan #yandere muzan kibutsuji #yandere muzan #yandere muzan x reader #yandere kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba #yandere #muzan #kibutsuji kny #yandere kny #kibutsuji muzan #muzan kibutsuji #x reader #x you #also kinda self insert ngl #self insert

[rainbowsillz]

𖤐 A MODERN READER THAT CAN'T TALK IN JAPANESE 𖤐

Warnings: Yandere behaviors, manipulation, possessiveness.

Note: I'd perish on my own accord if they send me here I swear. An experiment for a first post in kny fandom (･x･)/.

Featuring: Douma X Gender Neutral Reader.

i. gracious founder.

Summary: Many would be more than willing to have a chance of a life you were living. Not you, it was a nightmare..

The moon was overcast by darkness overhead.

[ DOUMA - 童磨 ]

“Truly a poor thing you are... why don't you come back with me? It's dangerous wandering out there at night.”

Obviously, you have to accept whatever he voiced at you (he was inquiring if you'd like to go with him).

And so you were at his abode...

You kept saying "Hello." Or "Goodbye." Which came off as quite baffling for him. Like you can't speak normally.

The demon was a bit too stunned to comment at first.

"Can you understand me?" He prompted you.

Then it made sense for him! You were a foreigner, weren't you? This had him watching you with a broad grin.

Now, now.. He can't have you being like that here. As someone once said. Education matters, does it not?

So — he'll be instructing you on learning the basics of the fundamentals. You looked sharp, this should be a cakewalk.

(Your ADHD self would throw hands at him if you could.)

Hmmm, he doesn't really can tell about how you got isekai'd into the universe of Kimetsu No Yaiba however. Luckily.

You'll take this secret to the grave with you.

Although he was drawn to you because of 'something.'

"Maybe it's fate!" He chirped like a puppy with you.

He enjoyed feeding you treats like you were his pet. Oh, it'd be a waste, right? So you better keep eating that.

You only were able to do easy phrases but he seemed delighted enough. You dreaded the day you'd end up in his belly because.. you weren't even a slayer to begin with.

He could break your neck if he wanted to.

His favoritism didn't help in the slightest. Other people weren't on friendly terms with you. You were miserable.

As the time flew by, the season changed.

Your Japanese was average to comprehend his message now. You hated to admit this... he wasn't an awful mentor....

You missed your home.

A firm arm draped around your shoulders, the humming gave away whose it was. It was Douma, no doubt about it.

You suspected it was a setup. He did it on 'purpose.'

It intrigued him when your breathing hitched at his arrival.

You backed yourself away and you asked a question.

"Why would I isolate you? Is my little fox mad?" He pouted.

His rows of teeth were unlike human's ones.

Was he supposed to be a cult leader? How repulsive.

"I loathe you." You spat in your second language.

His smile was faltering at your words, there was a shift in his expression as he snapped his hand fan close after that.

"I wonder what you stated about me." His tone was a jab.

He patted your head like you were nothing in his eyes. There was venom underneath and in his sentence. A disapproval.

This confirmed it, he was a sick bastard ಠ_ಠ.

Earning an ire from everyone was the last thing you needed.

Despite that he had no clue on your mother tongue.

It was also unbeknownst to you—

...Since The Upper Rank Two was fluent in English.

#demon slayer x you #demon slayer x reader #kny x you #kny x reader #douma x reader #douma x you #yandere demon slayer #yandere douma x reader #yandere douma x you #kny imagines #kny scenarios #kny prompts #kimetsu no yaiba #kny headcanons #demon slayer headcanons #tw: yandere #gender neutral reader #etihw.writes

[pr3ttyb0ym2g]

GUILTY CONSCIENCE ꒰ADAM 𝘅 gn! 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳꒱

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ;; Angst, disturbing content. Adam killed you and is now in Heaven's court. He feels guilty, horrified by what he did. But regardless, his guilt will continue to swallow him whole. 𝘼/𝙉 ;; I wanted to write smth more intense and raw, more THERE. Because why not? Also chose Adam because uhm.. He seemed fitting here. I hope this is gut wrenching, I put some feelings into it but idk if it just comes out goofy and cringey so, feedback is loved.

Adam was sweating heavily in front of Sera. His robe's collar suddenly felt too tight, he felt like he was losing oxygen. His vision was swimming and his breaths were shallow. "We have gathered here today to solemnly discuss the passing of one of our angelic brethren." Adam felt like he was gonna throw up as his body shuddered. He could feel everything around him, suddenly hyperaware of his own senses. He could hear the faint ringing in the back of his mind, a small bead of sweat dripping down the base of his neck, and the hairs on his arms standing up. "Adam, the first man, the court asks you to recount the events leading to the passing of [name]." He couldn't focus on what his peers were saying. He could only hone his mind onto the beat of his heart. "Adam." Ah, that was Sera, the head Seraphim and Adam's so-called manager. She was speaking, calling out to him. "Adam?" He felt himself shrink, shakingly crossing his arms over his chest. Where was Lute? Did they send her away just to isolate him? Adam needed his subordinate. As much as he hated admitting it, he couldn't stand being alone. For eons his greatest fear was loneliness. Yet he wasn't alone, pairs of eyes were watching him. God, where is Lute? He silently prayed for Lute to just burst through the large golden doors. He had hoped she'd act just like her usual brash self, arriving to defend him like she usually did during previous court hearings. "Adam! The court is demanding you speak." "Sera.." "Emily, we can't overlook this. This is a pressing matter." Why did he do it, just why did he? "Is it true you were with [name]?" A foreign voice spoke, it must be a prosecutor. It seemed familiar, Adam might have heard it before, he's been in too many hearings to count. "Adam, your silence will not be an answer." They addressed him so forwardly; all calling him Adam. He no longer felt like he was God's beloved creation. "Is it true you often fought with [name]?" And why did they say your name so much? It made his heart ache. Your name, something he'd always have on his lips. He wanted to say it again. He wanted to call you. But that's no longer possible. "Is it true you were with [name] that night?" That night, right, that dreadful night. "Adam, answer." They were too eager to hear from him. Were they always like this? He never remembered anyone wanting his attention this badly before. "Where is [name]'s body, Adam." The prosecutor sounded sorrowful, as if pleading to him. "Adam, please speak." "Adam, please, you have to tell us. Where is their body? We're all so desperate for answers. Please, just say something, anything. We need to know, we need to." Were you always this popular? It seems he forgot how much your presence actually affected others. He never really thought of your relations that much, so the idea that people would cry for you was horrifyingly shocking. "Head Seraphim, what do we do? He's unresponsive—" "Hell." Adam uttered, feeling like he was breathless. "Adam, repeat that." Sera feared the worst. "The body, [name]'s body— it's there. In Hell."

#hazbin hotel #gn reader #fanfic #fanfiction #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel adam x you #hazbin hotel adam x reader #vivzieverse #vivziepop #hazbin hotel oneshots #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel season 1

[possamble]

do you have any particular thoughts regarding marcille being a half-elf? its interesting to me considering the fact that she seems self-conscious about being a half-elf, but denies it when its brought up

i remember marcille looking visibly uncomfortable over laios simply asking her how old she is, which i think the only reason she might feel nervous about this is because it might reveal her as a half-elf to him.

she's never corrected anybody whose called her an elf either.

never mind the circumstances of the reveal, in which thistle goes on about how half-elves are inferior and accusing her of wanting to become full blooded elf, she seemed particularly upset like he struck a nerve-

i wish the half-elf thing was built upon more. also, underrated marcille line:

okay so i revisited this sequence just to make sure I could back myself up and it's just... man. there's a lot going on.

the first reaction we get from Marcille is this huge panel that takes up half of the page

she is viscerally affected. flushing to the tips of her ears with the intensity of it. and we see it again, a few pages later

so it might seem like she's embarrassed about it and lying to herself, but... I really think it's just that Thistle is accidentally hitting sore spots. If you really look at what he says to get these reactions

"you'll live out your entire life [...] and die that way too"

"a hundred years from now, nobody will be there"

Hear me out. I think, if he stuck to harping on about her inferiority without bringing up how terrifyingly long-lived she is, she wouldn't have been as bothered. But right now, Thistle is accidentally hitting all the marks on Marcille's deepest fears-- and this is after the Winged Lion promised her that her dreams could come true in an extremely vulnerable moment, so it also hits her slightly guilty conscience as well.

I do truly believe that Marcille isn't bothered about being a half-elf the way that people assume she'd be bothered by it. To her, the biggest problem with being a half-elf is that it's isolating.

On one hand, it's not hard to imagine why she'd distance herself from elves in the west. A lot of them can clock her as a half-elf on sight, unlike other races, and therefore she's always branded with this weird stigma of being Othered -- I would even say that she considers herself lucky for being born outside of elven culture instead of having to grow up in it. I mean, just... look at the way elves talk about her.

Skipping past the uncomfortable implication of what 'not tolerating the existence' of half-elves would actually entail, this is incredibly fucking annoying. You can see why she wouldn't want to be around elves much. You see a lot of Marcille reacting badly here, but honestly, almost all of it can be attributed to her freaking out that her bluff completely failed. She's honestly more paying attention to Izutsumi's footsteps and trying to coordinate an opportunity to escape.

And in the end, you see her built-up frustration at being asked if she wants to be a full-blooded elf like 2-3 times in a row.

Yeah, yeah, "the lady doth protest too much," and all. But we know Marcille. We know that she's a lot more embarrassed and horrendously unconvincing when she's being prodded about something she's actually self-conscious about.

Moving onto the flipside of things, it might seem weird that she "pretends" to be a full elf around other races, but it's not really that strange if you think about it. Again, people are weird about her being infertile or whatever, and a lots of them don't even know much about what sets half-elves apart from everyone else. I mean, look at how uncomfortable Laios is just asking her about it

and look at how exasperated and resigned she looks

And like... she's right. Where would that come up in normal conversation? Why would she go out of her way to tell them? She's functionally a normal elf to other races anyway -- got the ears, the abnormally long "childhood", and the huge mana capacity. Unless it's directly relevant or important for people to know, I don't think it's all that strange or indicative of insecurity that she prefers not to bother with it.

(This combined with her sense of being an "outsider" to elf culture also explains why she thinks elf superiority is embarrassing. She sees the way elves treat short-lived races from the "outsider" perspective nonetheless, and thinks it's obnoxious; especially more so because she usually has to play the elf around short-lived races and deal with the reputation of arrogance that elves have built up.)

The sad thing is, this all means that... she doesn't actually fit in anywhere. She doesn't like going out West much because of how elves treat her. But she's also an outsider in the continents she was born in, treated like this exotic long-lived alien choosing to live among short-lived races for some reason. She is always an outsider, the Other, no matter where she goes. Add in the fact that she'll live longer than literally anyone she knows, and it's honestly kind of heartbreaking.

And I think that's the crux of it. Marcille really doesn't act like she's at all self-conscious about being a half-elf because of any feelings of inferiority or being half-made or whatever. She considers herself a perfectly legitimate being and might even, in some ways, consider herself superior to normal elves because she's not blind with elf supremacy or whatever. (And whatever "elven biases" she displays, all of them are born more out of the fact that she's kind of bad at conceptualizing how other races age and mature compared to herself, not that she actually considers herself better or more mature simply for being an elf.)

I think that whatever self-consciousness Marcille has about being a half-elf is, instead, related to terror and loneliness. The reminder that it ensures she'll never truly belong anywhere for the rest of her very long life. The reminder that, in truth, even she's not actually sure how old she is by other races' standards (hence the discomfort when asked how old she is). She doesn't want to not be a half elf, or be a full elf or full tall-man-- in her ideal world, she's still a half-elf. She just gets to live out her life at the same pace with the people she loves and doesn't have to say goodbye again and again and again until she dies.

and one last very important panel, right after Mithrun tells her that all her desires would be devoured

In her ideal world, she's still a half-elf and reality magically starts marching at her pace. But failing that, the second best thing is that she's still a half-elf-- but one who is able to accept reality and let go of her fear.

(But the rest of the story pans out the way it does because, to Marcille, taking reality apart and reshaping it was less scary than simply and fully reconciling with it.)

#asks #dungeon meshi manga spoilers #marcille donato #manga panel analysis #this is probably riddled with typos sorry #readmore cut bc it got long lmao #i ended up babbling about it bc it's such an important character detail to me #bc like... wow. she's so normal about it. she's literally just chilling. #the only thing that really bothers her is the material reality of it and how people treat her #the stereotypes the stigma etc. etc. #otherwise it just.. #literally doesn't factor into her criteria for self-worth at all #the basic truth is that marcille likes herself on a fundamental level #she's not plagued by a deep and festering self-loathing the way a lot of characters in her archetype are #she likes herself and is proud of her successes and accomplishments #its just that shes terrified of failure and can have *episodes* of self-loathing when she fucks up #but who doesn't yknow #i know its a very slight nuance that makes very little difference in how her 'overachiever' problems manifest but its there #the sword of abandonment issues that hangs over her head has nothing to do with her self-worth or self-esteem or meeting her own standards #it has to do with the fear of not living up to *other* people's expectations and not being useful enough to be worth keeping around #she's good enough for herself but she's always so so so scared that she's not good enough for other people #i wont say much about what ryoko kui is saying using this as an allegory for real world racial biases but #dungeon meshi's treatment of marcille's relationship with her being half-elf is so incredibly important to me because it gets it so right. #a trauma about inferiority or being a half-being isn't inherent to the experience of being 'of two worlds' at all #that's something that's unfairly drilled into people by their environment #the *inherent* anguish is the loneliness. the constant longing. the fact that you are always homesick no matter where you are #always just a little bit of an outsider and never fully at home #and dungeon meshi gets that. #edit: cleaned it up a little

[wen-kexing-apologist]

Moonlight Chicken is For the Queers

Ok I started my rewatch of episode 8 and figured out what I want to talk about for this series' finale: intentions and resolutions. This post will be about intention, and how I truly feel that Moonlight Chicken is a gift for queer people. Why? Well, there are many reasons, but for the purposes of this post, I will simply present the following title card.

Moonlight Chicken, Chapter 8: The Self-made House and Home

(if you are expecting this post to be anything other than a jumbled mess of my personal experiences with no clear through-lines or relevant transitions between sentences, thoughts, etc. then turn back now)

Whatever we want to say boy loves started as, fetish or otherwise, queer people are still able to see themselves or get comfort and representation. But coming from watching literally 25 boy loves in the last four months, this show feels different from most (not all) of them, to me, because of how strongly this show centers around built community, rather than romance, as it's central theme.

And yeah while any standard friend group in BL could be considered community in the abstract, the idea that they are a community is never quite presented. It's Team taking food from Pharm and all three of the gang teasing each other, it's Kuea and Diao spending most of their time talking about their relationships, it's Porsche forgetting Pete exists because he's so caught up in Kinn. More often than not we are building towards and hoping for declarations of love between two characters. And do not get me wrong, that is all well and good, and always what I'm rooting for in those shows. And we get something akin to that in Moonlight Chicken too, which is when you finally have Li Ming and Jim calling Heart and Wen (respectively) their boyfriends.

But the "I love you" we get in Moonlight Chicken? That isn't between the couples, it's between Li Ming and Jim.

Because the thing that makes Moonlight Chicken different from other BLs is the emphasis it puts on queer elders raising queer youth. It's about queer youth learning from queer elders and queer elders learning from queer youth. It's about how home and birth families don't always fit quite right, and how you build families and homes despite. And it's applicable to many people, children in abusive homes, disabled people, etc. too. Which is why P'Aof adds strained parental relationships and deafness in to this piece. But because this is fundamentally a BL show, I'm viewing this more through a queer lens.

So naturally, this also means I am informing my analysis of this show through my feelings as the only (known/out/visible) queer person on either side of my family. When I was little, a decade or more before I realized I was queer, I asked my mother one night if I was adopted. I'm not, and I know that, but why did I ask? Because I never really felt like I fit. Not the way I was supposed to fit, not the way family was supposed to fit together. My house never felt like a home.

And it's why I love this exchange between Wen and Jim at the end of episode 2

"I want home," "Don't you already have one?" "I don't." "A person like me doesn't fit to be anyone's home,"

And technically we know this isn't true. Wen does have a home, he has a condo, he has a place to sleep. But emotionally is where the problem lies. Wen is living with his ex, the apartment is cold, he has work colleagues and a friend that he and his ex both know and that's it. And as he tells Jim in episode 7, all his friends are straight. And then he meets Jim, and there is a spark, and maybe it's possible for home to grow there.

Literally, physically, I have a home. I have a family. But the more I embrace my queerness, the more I understand and am comfortable with myself, the more isolating and cold that house and family feel. I'm such a different person now than I was, and there are homophobes and transphobes on both sides of my family, and that makes it hard for me to feel like I am loved. Even when logically I know I am. But it's hard, when your mother says she accepts you and has yet to use my pronouns properly despite me being out to her for over a year and having three separate conversations about it. When your uncle spends twenty minutes or more complaining about trans people, when your cousins don't think trans people should exist. That's my family...technically. That's my home...technically. But it hasn't felt like that in years. So I understand what Wen means here, Wen's definition of home is not a place it is a feeling.

And Jim? We know Jim is already everyone's home. He is home for Li Ming, he is the closest thing to a parent that Leng has in his life, he makes sure the community not only has food, but has as much as food as they could possibly eat. He is first and foremost a community caretaker. But he is so wrapped up in his grief about Beam, his self-hatred, his stubbornness, his exhaustion that he is not able to believe that about himself. Home is a place and not a feeling for Jim, because he can't allow it to be.

The key to Wen and Jim's relationship is finding and building that home.

Home, Family, Community. These are incredibly important themes to Moonlight Chicken and those themes are incredibly important aspects of being queer.

I don't know how Thailand is re: homophobia and transphobia, if kids risk the same chance of getting kicked out of their homes for being queer, etc. But that is a very real possibility for many queer people in the States. But I'm thinking of homelessness in queer youth, how 28% of queer youth have reported experiencing homelessness in their lives. I'm thinking of ballroom and ball culture and how participants in the Ballroom scene were parts of Houses with mothers and fathers at the head of them who acted as mentors to their queer children. When I think about queerness and what it means, I think about ballroom. I think about connection, I think about community.

But that community is often forged from necessity borne out of isolation. What do I mean by isolation? I mean the isolation that Li Ming feels in school, around his school friends. I mean the faces Li Ming makes when his friends are talking about girls:

I mean the physical barriers the show places between Li Ming and his school friends.

It is the isolation that comes with queerness, with poverty, with everything about Li Ming. Beyond the fact Wen is a little younger than Jim and thus better able to understand and see Li Ming's desires to be seen as an adult. I think it is this state of listlessness in Li Ming is also something Wen recognizes. I think at this point Li Ming is so desperate to get away, to go to America, to be listened to and respected by Jim.

Jim who is too caught up in constant stress to see the home he has built for himself, Li Ming who is too caught up in wanting to be understood to appreciate that he has a home to run from. Wen who is working as a go between for Li Ming and Jim because he wants them to be his home. Heart who has been trapped at home and found his freedom because Li Ming understands the frustration of misunderstanding, and the importance of community.

I'm thinking about how so much of the final episodes are dedicated to showing community, showing family, showing the audience that home lies in the collective.

We see it in how many people rush to help Mrs. Hong:

We see it in the people who help you carry your grief:

We see it in how deeply and broadly the pain is felt when community pillars are lost:

We see it in the end of and era:

We see it in the olive branches:

And in new beginnings:

Very few people in these shots are connected through blood, but they are a family. And when I look at these shots the only thing I can think about is how I felt the night I threw a party for all my trans friends. All I can think about when I see these shots of everyone sitting and eating together is how many times I would look over to my friends and see them beaming. How many times someone came up to me to excitedly say this is the first time they felt like they could fully be themselves. How everyone kept asking to do an event like this again. How everyone kept asking to be added to a group chat at the end of the night so they could keep in contact.

And I remember how it felt for me to realize that I had built a community for myself in a place that I have really been struggling to feel was home. Because I had spent so much time in school and work, barley able to scrape together enough money to cover expenses, exhausted and stressed and unable to see what I had sitting right in front of me.

And I think about other queer people I have met, who light up when they see someone else who is gay, who talk about how lonely they feel because they only have one other queer friend. How immediately the need to invite them out, to introduce them to people, to make sure they have community strikes.

I think about how I worked at a summer camp out of state, and got to try out my pronouns, and figure out who I was, and then a few months later, I had to return home. Where I wasn't out yet, where I was going to get misgendered, and how quickly I came out to all of my close friends about my gender identity to try to mitigate how much my mental health tanked when I had to be someone my parents thought I still was. How at the same camp, the queer kids flocked to all the queer staff, how desperate they were to bond. How much lighter they got to be when they were away from their parents and allowed to be themselves around people who also understood not only them as people with the identities they held, but also their struggles existing in a household that didn't see who they were.

I think about how, in the States at least, "are you family?" is/was used as code for "are you gay?"

It's why it is so important to me that Moonlight Chicken ends with the line: "I just built a home. I don't want to move anywhere."

Because Wen has finally built his home. Because he has found his family, his queer community, his home. And yeah, we get the romance, yeah we get Li Ming and Heart holding hands, and Jim and Wen making out, but the emphasis of the final episode is moving forward, being brave, allowing yourself to love, and allowing yourself to stop, look around, and realize that you've made a home for yourself that is built of the people you love who love you in return.

Community building is a huge part of life for literally everyone, but it vital to the survival of marginalized communities. And when I think about my own relationship to queerness, one of the most sacred and important aspects of being queer is building the family you need.

#moonlight chicken #moonlight chicken the series #moonlight chicken episode 8 #moonlight chicken ep 8 #gmmtv #p'aof #aof noppharnach #aof noppharnach chaiwimol #wenjim #jimwen #earthmix #jim x wen #wen x jim #heartming #heartliming #heart x li ming #fourthgemini #geminifourth #gemini fourth #fourth gemini #fourth nattawat #gemini norawit #mix sahaphap #earth pirapat #mark pakin #mlc #mlcts #mlc ep 8 #moonlight chicken analysis #moonlight chicken discussion

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

NEW YEARS DAY- P.B PARKER

Pairing: Best Friend (with benefits)! Peter x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Summary: your best friend peter practically begs you to be his date at his works new years party, as a friend and a lover. new year, same benefits. 

Warnings: SMUT, teasing/ sexual tension, heavy praise kink, some mocking and slight degradation, daddy kink, petnames, hair pulling, swearing, alcohol consumed, really just two lovebirds pretending they arent in love for their own sake

“i want your midnights, but ill be cleanin up bottles with you on new years day. hold onto the memories- they will hold onto you.. and i will hold onto you”- new years day, taylor swift

The lights glimmered brightly, the soft white glow mixed in with the ferns that were draped across your fireplace. You watched them intensely, observing the patterns they followed. 

They were on a timer, every other little light glowing brightly, to then fade out and let the other pairs shine. 

The tv remote you had once clutched was now tossed back in the cushions, hidden away as your attention had strayed from endlessly flicking the channel to find a holiday movie for some form of white noise. It was depressing in here, despite the decorations that were scattered across your apartment. 

No amount of sugar cookie-scented candles could mask the fact you reeked of sorrow, and a sense of self-pity that hung over you like mistletoe. 

The holidays were terrible alone.

 You should be accustomed to it by now, not having anyone to really rely on but yourself and your best friend Peter for the past couple years. But you didn’t want to bother him now- it was break after all, and you presumed he was with his family. 

You admired that about him, how close he was with his family- how much he loved them so dearly. 

Still, you felt lonely and isolated. 

The snow continued to fall outside, and you dreaded the fact you knew you would have to shovel it all in the morning. It was a cycle that never ended in your mind as the fireplace crackled to life, the faux flames seeming to laugh at you. 

You huffed, slumping back into the pillows. 

This sucked. This really fucking sucked. 

It was laughable, in all honesty. The fireplace was right about that. It was New Years Eve, everyone out drinking and partying- and here you were staring at decor you had no energy to remove. 

You contemplated on making yourself a cup of hot coco as a distraction, knowing the chocolaty goodness would tingle your taste buds. But before you could decide on what flavor you wanted, the phone rang.

 It was an old telephone from the 90s that hung up on the wall, with its long curly wire. You kept it because you thought it was cute, and even ended up painting it a deep shade of red, with little pink hearts to adorn it. Peter often teased you about it, and your funky old-school tastes. 

No one ever called your landline except for Peter, because he was the one and only person you had given your number to. You felt a sudden sense of excitement bloom in your stomach as you hopped over the couch, nearly bolting to the phone. 

“This is the Y/L/N residence, how can I be of assistance?” you chirp out giddily as you twirled the cord around your finger, feeling like a lovesick teenager as you heard him laugh over the other end. 

“You free tonight birdy?” he asked, though he sounded breathless, a loud clatter following his question. He was in a rush. “Yeah sorry, I made plans with my Christmas lights to stare at them all night. You’ll have to book another time.” you joked. 

“Hah hah. Very funny-” Something fell in the background again, and you heard him curse under his breath. “Everything good there?” you asked with a slither of worry in your voice, the banging making you anxious. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m just in a rush and I’m tripping and knocking over everything and I need you.” You froze, eyes widening as you slumped against the wall behind you. 

He needed you? What could he possibly need you for on a Thursday night? 

The only time he ever said that was when the two of you played the sex card. The best friends with benefits card. A card that was getting dealt more often, as the two of you grew closer and closer. 

Yes, he was your best friend, one you had cherished for years and one who understood you like no other. But he also was something more, a caregiver, an outlet. The friendship was amazing. The sex was even better. 

But this was different, the fact he was calling you out of the blue. The two of you decided on no ‘you up?’ fiascos. You were classier than that. 

Before you could speak, he cut off your thoughts, words coming out faster than you could comprehend. “That came out wrong sorry. I just have a work party tonight and everyone's bringing a plus one and I told them I was bringing someone but in reality, I didn’t have anyone andnowI’mju-”

 “So you need me to be your date. Is that what you're asking?” you finished for him, heartbeat picking up speed as you clenched the phone tighter. Maybe you had plans tonight with him after all. The idea of being in his presence soon made you dizzy. 

“Yes. God yes please birdy. Please.” he muttered out, and you could hear him attempt to shove on his shoes, balancing on the front closet door. “How soon?” 

“An hour. And we still gotta get parking, so get ready like… yesterday!” You started to panic, brain shortcircuiting on how to get ready in that amount of time. 

Not only to impress Peter but to impress his colleagues too. First impressions were always important. They were life lasting, and impactful. And the pressure of having to dig that out of your closet gave you a sense of uneasiness. 

“Wait Peter wha-”

 “Okay see you soon, love you birdy!! Thank you sweetheart mwah mwah mwah-” He kissed the phone a few times to cut you off before quickly hanging up- giving you next to nothing to work with.

 No dress code, no ideas for hair and makeup. You mindlessly hung up, plopping the phone back to its colourful home on the wall. Staring at the lights, you sighed. 

You were so, so unbelievably screwed.

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 Saying ‘you were screwed’ was an understatement. 

A huge one. 

The outfit you had originally thought of to wear was nowhere to be seen. You had dug through every drawer, had searched each closet high and low, and had even dug through your dirty laundry hamper in hopes to find it. 

No luck. 

It was as if the gods had rooted against you, refusing to knock on wood in your favor. Your makeup was done, hair done up with pearls to match- but the key part you needed was missing. Time was running out, and you felt your anxiety skyrocket. 

If it was a flutter of butterflies in your stomach before, it was bumper cars at the fair now. Bumping, smashing, and twisting your insides as you tried to calm yourself down to no avail. Thumb brought up to your lips, your teeth dug into the cuticle and you tasted the hot metallic taste of the blood you drew. 

It was sweet in a way, the slight stinging bringing you comfort as you paced. You were practically out of ideas, and the hands on your clock ticked louder and louder like cicadas the longer you waited for another idea to come to mind. 

After minutes of mindless ‘thinking’, all you and your blood-stained lips could ponder was the idea of your mother's old vintage red dress. It was classy, almost too classy- which was exactly what you were afraid of. 

But it would have to do. 

What other options did you really have? Going naked? 

A quick tap sounded from your front door, Peter stepping inside before you had a chance to hobble over to open it. Your dress was slung on your body, zipper and buttons undone as you stumbled out of your bedroom in your unfastened heels. 

“Hi!” you stammered out breathlessly, attempting to brush your hair from your eyes that had fallen out of place. “Hi birdy. Wow you look…” He trailed off, looking you up and down with a look of awe plastered across his face. 

Something burned brightly in you as you ducked your head, trying to hide the smile that bloomed on your face with failure. “I look?” 

“So pretty. So fuckin pretty.” he laughed, making you beam brightly, happy with the validation he gave you. “It's not too much or anything?”

 “Oh it's so much. But in the best way, gosh you look beautiful. I'm gonna shut up now.” he blushed, cheeks turning a bright shade of rose as you walked over to him, unable to hide your giggles at how flustered he could get sometimes. 

He ran a hand through the messy chestnut locks on his head, all grown out and sticking out at weird angles- as if he forgot to brush it properly. But you liked it. You liked these little details about Peter, when his hair was extra messy, when he accidently got dried toothpaste on his shirt, or when only one shoe was untied and he refused to bend down and fix it. 

You didn't bother to notice it, even if it was a good thing because you knew Peter would just act self-conscious and freak out that he didn’t have enough time to fix it. Which he didn’t- really, but you didn’t want him to anyways. 

“You need me to zip you up?” he asked softly, to which you just nodded, turning around in front of his tall figure to reveal the opened back of the garment. A breath whooshed between his clenched teeth as he saw your bare skin, no lacy, frilly bra underneath. 

Just soft, delicate skin.

 His fingers trailed up your spin gently, the back of his knuckle coaxing the skin before he snapped out of his trance, remembering the two of you were on a time crunch. The both of you were already running late.

 He looked up at the ceiling, so very tempted to peer down at the curve of your ass he adored so much and zipped you up as quickly as he could. All he could smell was soft roses and sex that washed off of you in waves. 

It made him sick with desire and he wanted nothing more than to say fuck the party, and start a new party with you in your bed. Or on the couch. Or the counter. 

Peter stared down at his watch, watching the hands tick by as you tried to do up your shoes. Out of the corner of his eye he saw you struggling, using the wall as support- something he did almost an hour prior.

 Before he knew what he was doing, he was down on one knee. “Cmere. Up.” he scolded, and you laughed as he grabbed your foot, propping it up on his knee so he could work at it. 

“Am I that slow bug?” 

“Yes. Yes, yes painfully slow. My grandma can move faster than that.” he teased, which resulted in his head being lightly smacked. 

“I’m trying!” you huffed, the two of bickering like children on the schoolyard. “I know, I know. I’m teasing you bird.” he smiled, patting your calf as he fitted the heel to your foot, standing up with a start. 

“We got somewhere to be.”

 “That we do.” you nodded, watching as he swung the door wide open, bowing as he allowed you to pass. Your hand was grabbed, the two of you flying down the hall, laughing so hard you could barely breathe as the door slammed behind you.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Prepare yourself.” Peter muttered under his breath as the two of you stepped into the front foyer, the glass doors shutting out the chill wind that had followed you here. 

It was beautiful here, the ambiance of piano music trickling out near the bar, people in fancy dresses and suits lingering on the grand staircase. It felt like a hotel lobby, with all the modern elements, little pieces of gold engraved into each surface. 

“Wow this is… something else.” you mumbled, the two of you clearly out of your element as you glided through the entryway, arms linked so tightly as if you thought he'd run away. 

“It's a lot. They always go all out on New Years, which is good and bad.” 

“Good because more booze?” you assumed, nodding with a smile plastered on your face to a couple as they passed by. “Exactly. It's like… bottomless here.” 

Your eyebrows raised, knowing that could never mean anything good. Especially on New Years. “Did you want a drinking buddy?” 

He smirked. “Perhaps.”

 “Oh you're bad Parker. Such a bad, bad influence.” you giggled as he pulled you along, past the dozens of twinkle lights and traces of white tulle that made the space seem mystical and bright despite it being cold and modern.

 People stared at the two of you as he pulled you up the stairs, and you laughed as you struggled to keep up with his eager footing. Suddenly, you didn’t care what others thought of you. You were with him, and you were happy. 

Let the other couples look. You didn’t know them, and even though Peter did, he didn’t seem to care either. Let them be jealous of your happiness and the fake plastic wrinkles in their own relationships. It was their problem- not yours. 

The upper level of the building lingered with even more people, and you feared you'd get sick of them before the night even started. Still, you kept a smile plastered on your face as Peter introduced you to some of his colleagues, and though they were beyond friendly and welcoming- you continued to sip your drink. 

You were happy to be out of the house, and with Peter most of all- but there came a time when there were too many people, too much noise. Music constantly trickled from the speakers, the conversations overlapping as you drew warry. The air was thick with the smell of booze and melted chocolate, the taste still sweet on your tongue as Peter had fed you a chocolate-dipped strawberry from the fountain a few minutes prior. 

The two of you lingered in a corner somewhere, bones shaking with the vibrations of the music as the city lights washed over your skin. Hands were tight as they dug into Peter's suit, the sudden amount of drinks catching up to you all at once. 

“You doing okay birdy? Still chripin away?” he mummed down to you softly, and you nodded.

 “Yeah. Everyone is super nice and I’m having a good time I’m just..” 

“Overwhelmed?” he asked, knowing you often felt that way in a room full of people. That's why he liked to be with you- always, to protect you. To be able to pull you away and to comfort you, in times like these. 

It was darker in this spot of the room, less stimulating near the back windows, away from the bar. 

“Well I’m so proud of you for making it this long. Seriously, you have no idea what this means to me. You're doing amazing. Thank you.” he smiled, kissing the top of your head gently, making you giddy. 

You weren't sure if it was his sudden clingy affections he was portraying, or the champagne in your bloodstream that made you woozy. You felt as if you were on cloud nine, your mouth an endless stream of word jumbles that needed to spill over. 

“I love you. I love doing things with you b-bug.” you hiccuped, squeezing him around his middle even tighter, his white undershirt wrinkled from your sentiments. 

“I love you too baby. You know that, yea?”

 Baby.  

Your heart fluttered as fast as a hummingbird's wings as the pet name consumed you whole. “Yea. You’re the best Peter.” you exclaimed, hand starting to trace the buttons of the crisp shirt he wore, feeling the warmth radiate off his smooth skin as he sharply inhaled. 

He knew the game you were starting to play with him. And he indulged in it.

 “Mhmm birdy. You smell so good.” he mumbled into your hair, kissing the top of your head as you giggled. “Do I taste as good as I smell?” you teased quietly, your warm breath tickling the shell of his ear as you yanked on his shirt for him to bend down, causing goosebumps to break out across his pale skin now deep with flushed pink.

 The bulge in his pants was evident, and it took everything in him not to bend you over the nearest surface to spread your legs to show off what was his. 

“Do you wanna find out?” he slurred, breath slightly tinted with the smell of booze as he kissed your skin, anywhere he could reach. You knew it was wrong, sneaking off like highschoolers at a dance to go fuck in some corridor, but you didn’t care. 

All you knew was that his hands felt too good on your body, the way he had started to slowly feel you up, groping your tits through the dress. His words sounded too pretty when they slipped from his mouth, like silk sheets as they slid over your body. 

Doe eyes wide, you nodded innocently, knowing it would get an even bigger rise out of him. He growled, grabbing your hand as he weaved you through the crowds, bolting for the washrooms. 

The smells of perfume, the body heat and the buzz from the clusters washed off you like water as you were whisked away into the washroom, door locking behind you with a click. 

Occupied. 

You survived the spacious washroom, knowing this one room was probably worth as much- if not more than your entire apartment. 

 “They're clean don’t worry baby. I wouldn't want my whore getting all icky, now would I?” he smirked, beckoning you over to where he stood by the large vanity.

 “Although she's got such an icky mind, filled with those dirty little thoughts. Just couldn't wait could you birdy?” You felt your body get hot at his sly, mocking comments, turning you on more than you thought was even possible.

 “How could I wait Daddy?” you giggled,  giving him a little twirl before you pranced over to him, the tile cool to the touch as you leaned against it. The air was stolen from your lungs as he spun you around, bending you over the counter before you could bat an eye possessiveness coursing through his blood like hot coals crackling. 

He was needy. He had been waiting to touch you, feel you, destroy you all night. He wasn't ashamed to admit it. 

“You're such a silly girl baby. Needy lil thing..” Peter trailed off as he took you in, the soft, hazy lighting making you feel secluded and inscrutable. 

The way he looked at you made you feel beautiful. It sparked something in your chest only he could truly light, making you feel needy yet empowered. You craved the feeling, the eagerness making your thong a puddle as his once soft gaze turned ravenous. 

Pupils dark and dilated, the concentration evident on his face as he tugged at his bottom lip, as if he was scared you'd ever leave his memory.

 “I’m your needy little thing. Don’t you want me to be needy for you daddy?” You pouted, batting your eyelashes at him through the mirror as he towered over you from behind, hands squeezing your waist. 

“Always birdy. Only mine.” he smiled, and you watched as he unbuttoned his pants, a quick smack to your ass making you whimper.

 “Off.” he commanded, unzipping your dress, watching as it slid down past your shoulders, revealing your breasts to him as he tugged down your panties. 

“You're such a mess baby. Such a messy, messy girl.” he clucked his tongue as his finger glided across your folds, the sweet juices coating the pad, making him smirk. 

Your head folded down, forehead resting against the chill marble of the edge of the sink, Peter's dirty talk never failing to make you slip between his fingers like sludge. He always knew what to say, how to touch you. It was almost as if he had been keeping track, taking little notes of the slight little moves he would make before the two of you started hooking up, finding out what words made you just that more flustered. 

“Peter please jus-” Your words were cut off as he yanked your hair, forced to look back up at him.

 “I want you to look at how pretty you are when I stuff you full baby. Eyes up here- yea?” 

An O was formed as he grabbed your hips once more, wasting no time as he slipped inside you. “Fuck. Fuck birdy, look, look at me.” he stuttered, a moan slipping from your parted lips as your heated gaze met his own through the reflection. 

It was a dirty scene, the sight of the two of you making you want to squeeze your legs shut. Peter was always vocal, tonight more than usual, whether that was from the booze in his system or simply because of the fact he had you under his control like this. 

“Peter I can’t I can’t!” you babbled as you clenched around him, his cock brushing your g-spot as he fully sat inside you, slowly beginning to slip out of you to repeat the motion anew. 

“Yes, yes you can birdy you're doing so, so good for me. Just keep chirpin for daddy okay? Keep on lookin at me.” he whispered, his hand finding its place weaved in your locks, pearls shinning dimly in the light as the blush stained his cheeks. 

The moans that slipped from you drove him crazy, and he hoped to god the people outside could hear how beautiful you sounded, how pretty the slapping of skin was as he thrust into you harder. 

“I-I love you-” you breathed out as he grinned, clenching around him tighter.

 “I love you too birdy. Such a sweet girl. You gonna cum for me?” he asked mockingly, and you nodded, unable to form the words. Bliss consumed you, making you cathect as he murmured soft-spoken praises that tickled down your spine, the fullness you felt causing you to grip the counter until you swore your nails would break. 

You came with a cry of his name, clamping your hand over your mouth to try and muffle the sounds. 

“No, no sweetheart let them hear you.” he insisted, your eyes rolling to the whites as he stilled, growling as he released inside of you. Warmth spread down your inner thighs as you felt him slowly adjust, the sounds of the muffled music booming even louder through the walls. 

“Thank you bug. I needed that.” you cooed softly, sighing as he stroked your back in soothing circles before helping you get dressed again. 

“We both did.” Peter's hands were warm, his grip sweet and tender as he hugged you around your middle, leaning down to rest his head in the crook of your neck as you touched up the pearls that had fallen loose in your hair. 

“Do you think anyone noticed we were gone?” you asked, eyeballing the door that had somehow still remained locked and still- no one trying to find their way in. 

“Oh probably. They were most likely looking for you in the crowd for eye candy. I know I would be.” he shrugged and you laughed, smacking him gently. 

“You are really beautiful birdy. The prettiest girl I’ve ever seen in my entire life.” he whispered, kissing your exposed skin, making you flustered even though he had just seen you in your most vulnerable headspace two minutes earlier. 

His compliments never failed to make you feel giddy, because you knew he truly meant them. “You're not too bad yourself handsome.” you patted his cheek, linking your hand with his as you unravel yourself from the tangle of limbs, leading him back over towards the party outside. 

He paused. 

Confusion was written across your face as he held you back from unlocking the bathroom door, and you were unsure as to why he was being so hesitant to walk back out to the crowd of people who adored him. 

“Bug?” 

“Do you wanna ditch? Go to the diner and get some food or something?” he asked, chewing on his lip as he waited for your response. It was like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders. 

Well, a second one, considering the most of the stress had been taken from them when he had fucked you like a bitch in heat. You were so happy to do things for Peter, but it was even nicer when they were with him. When the two of you were one on one. This was more like the night you had hoped for with your best friend.

 “Vanilla milkshakes?” 

He smiled, waltzing over to unlock the door, pulling it open, the colder air from the main floor hitting you all at once as you shivered. “Deal. C'mon birdy, I know a way out of here- away from everyone.” he divulged, tugging your arm as the two of you ran out into the night- clock striking midnight the second your foot stepped out onto the worn pavement. 

Fireworks shot up, all their bright blazing colours shimmering throughout the skyline as they exploded, the bell reaching its toll. You squeezed his hand a little tighter, watching the awe on his face as the shades of reds, blues and pinks shimmered in his eyes. 

New year, same man. And you wouldn't have it any other way.                                                                                                      

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[cod-z]

Lonely Pt. 2

Your media consumption isn't my responsibility | TW: Angst/Comfort, Alcohol usage, Isolation, Not taking care of self (Not Reader), Slight Manipulation (if you squint enough), sorry if I missed any-

Pairing(s): (Choose)141 x Reader

| One-shots | Pt. 1 | A/N: I'VE HAD THIS SONG ON LOOP FOR MAYBE 10-11 HOURS NOW!? How did I not go insane?

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Can’t believe I had a girl like you And I just let you walk right outta my life

He watches you pack your belongings, the burning sensation of the rage that he felt slowly fading away the more of your items disappeared from his drawers and closet till there were no traces left of you in your once shared bedroom, moving to the bathroom to gather your toiletries. 

The shampoo that he had become accustomed to when you stayed over for the night, the body wash that always linger on you after a shower, letting him inhale the sweet fumes, the toothbrush that sat next to his, a mockery of a relationship that you both could have if he wasn’t such a coward to confess but rather hurt you instead. Watching you take the light pastel towel that was in your favourite colour, different tones to create a beautiful landscape if laid down. Soon the bathroom had become bare of your presence too.

After all I put you through You still stuck around and stayed by my side What really hurt me is I broke your heart Baby, you’re a good girl and I had no right

Packing the last of your things in the living, the weighted blanket that you had bought for the both of you, no longer on the sofa but in your arms as you shove it into your duffel bag. The realisation dawned on him. You were going to leave, you weren’t going to fight for the messed up relationship that he kept self-sabotaging. You were in love with him but the constant insecurities that he forced down upon you, suggesting what he could to get better, and without him wanting to change, it was tiring you - mentally, emotionally and physically, to the point you were getting unwell yourself. 

Wide-eyes followed your every movement, his hand shooting up the moment you grabbed onto the handle and opening the door. The storm raging outside fit the same tension that was in the house that you had spent many nights in, his hand holding onto your forearm as his eyes pleads for you to stay. The excuse that left his mouth, being that he didn’t want you to get sick and wet which was half true but also because he doesn’t want you to leave. Leave him.

His hand leaves your forearm before placing it on the strap of your duffel bag, sliding it off as he nears your body till his chest touches your back, embracing you slowly. His arms sliding in between yours till they encased your waist and pulled you closer to him, his hands sliding down your arms and down to your hands as if you were a fragile flower that threatened to collapse on the wrong move.

I really wanna make things right ‘Cause without you in my life girl, I’m so

His breathing was steady, eyes focused on tracing his hands on your body, scared to frighten you off into the rainstorm that was outside, letting you disappear out of his life. Why couldn’t he be like this all the time with you? It would’ve saved you both from the heartaches and regrets that were to come, yet he continued what he had done.

Your bags were on the floor near the closed door, tucked away under the hanged coats, above yours and his shoes, both different styles and strangely they seem to correlate with one another. You lay next to him in the bed that you desperately wanted to escape, the memories too painful to even sleep as you smell the fresh sheets of him and a slight lingering scent of the broad that he had over 2 days ago, the stinging sensation in your eyes overwhelmed you.

Lonely (so lonely) I’m Mr. Lonely (Mr. Lonely) I have nobody (I have nobody) For my own (to call my own girl)

You love him but you know he doesn’t feel the same even when his actions felt like it, but you know the truth. It hurts when the person you love doesn’t love you back, but it hurts even more when they pretend that they do.

Slipping away from the bulk of his arms you tacitly and silently change back into your attire, worm your way down the stairs as quietly as you could finally reaching the end of the stairs, your hand wraps around the handles of your bags while slinging your duffel bag over your shoulders once more. You stare up at the darkened hallway up the stairs, the tears threatening to fall but you held them back, your head moving directing to the door, you take a deep breathe in as you grasp the handle - pushing it down, the door gaping, finally disappearing into the downpour of the night - the door closing behind you.

I’m so lonely (so lonely) I’m Mr. Lonely (Mr. Lonely) I have nobody (I have nobody) For my own (to call my own girl) I am so lonely

Morning light seeps through the condensed windows, droplets of the aftermath that the storm left behind, slid down the window panes, sparkles of the light shining through the droplets creating soft refractions painting it on the walls. 

The fluorescent light looming over his form, creating shadows on the walls, the rays shining over his eyes, disturbing him to wake. His hair was a messed up from his slumber as he oscitate while he stretched his limbs, half turning his body to place his arm around you, his hand meeting the softness of the empty mattress next to him.

Been all about the world, ain’t never met a girl That can take the things that you been through Never thought the day would come where you’d get up and run And I would be out chasing you

Never had he moved so fast in his life, including missions that he has been on, not even when his own life was in danger, his blurry image ran into room after room till the entire second floor was searched twice for your form. His heart flurried with a storm of emotions, his mind and heart yelling at him that he was too late, that he had lost you, that you were never coming back to him. 

To his dismay the entire house was cleared of your existence.

His body was still tense, still waiting for you to open the doors that you walked out of to come back to his arms, but his body had already accepted that you were gone, he took his time and played with your heart and you were gone. As realisation creeps in his body went auto-pilot, no longer being aware that he was slowly walking towards the sofa, figments of the past tormenting him as he sees a faded glow of both of your figures sitting there, coddling each other in your blanket.

The past forms dispersing the moment he sits down, planting his head into his hands, his broad shoulders shaking as he lets out the tears that had been trapped behind his facade. He felt the room around him crumble, the paint on the walls chipping off, his house slowly being sucked into the void, the accessories in the room disintegrating into thin air till it was just him and the sofa in the void.

‘Cause ain’t nowhere in the globe I’d rather be Ain’t no one in the globe I’d rather see Than the girl of my dreams that made me be So happy but now so lonely Lonely (so lonely) I’m Mr. Lonely (Mr. Lonely) I have nobody (I have nobody) For my own (to call my own girl) I’m so lonely (so lonely)

Drink in his hand, the muffled yet blaring sound of ‘Lonely’ by Akon echoes around him even when he leaves his room for the first time in a couple of weeks, heading to the bar you both had met. His thoughts of bumping into you clouded his mind, false hope making him delusional as each person that had a similar aspect of you made him jolt, but only to be brought to disappointment when their face wasn’t yours. 

His head-accessory hid the bird’s nest that was his hair while covering the tired bags underneath his eyes, his complexion had become pale from the lack of sun since he had closed his blinds when you had left that night, afraid to face the storms alone.

I’m so lonely (so lonely) I’m Mr. Lonely (Mr. Lonely) I have nobody (I have nobody) For my own (to call my own girl) I am so lonely

Kicked out of the bar again, the fifth time this week. He had become a shell of the man you once knew, no longer the player that he was but an alcoholic that wants to forget the world and yet he can’t. You were his world. He was just an idiot who didn’t realise it sooner, then you were gone when the moon had shone down the path to the white light, away from him.

Never thought that I’d be alone I didn’t think you’d be gone this long I just want you to call my phone So stop playing girl and come home

His body laid on the cold, dirtied concrete, similar to him, both his past and present self, a pathetic man that never noticed the gem that he had in his palm till it rolled away from him and slipped into the mountainous of rocks that he got you out from. 1 in a billion, you were. He was the bastard who had covered you in soot and proclaimed you as just another rock that was throwable, not needing the proper care to shine and he regrets it.

He sobs on the ground, wetting the slab beneath him, the nightly breeze biting his skin as people walk around him. A couple passed him, the female looking at him with pity though her partner averted her gaze, whispering that he was a lost cause, and how he couldn’t agree more with the stranger. He was a lost cause. He was without you.

His regrets were mixed with the rain water, then another and another, till the rain was pelting his figure to the ground, falling quicker and harder than the tears he shed. The memories you leave that night. He wonders if you had made it to somewhere safe in this condition, you were so much stronger than him, walking out, probably holding tears back, carrying your heavy bags in the downpour in the middle of the night. He gathers himself on his knees, ignoring the pain in his knees as he screams in anguish:

“Baby girl, I didn’t mean to shout I want me and you to work it out…”

His head slumps forward with the wetness of his hair, his head-accessory gone when he was thrown out, his words becoming the sobbing mess it was before. His knees planted on the ground, his hands lurching forward to the ground, his sobs reducing to hiccups and voice cracks as he cries out your name.

“I never wished to ever hurt my baby And it’s drivin’ me crazy ‘cause I’m so…”

He lets out a sob, his thick tears no longer recognisable as the rain had drenched him in his breakdown.

A shadow looms over him, the rain coming to a sudden stop over him, his darkened eyes landing on a pair of familiar shoes, it couldn’t be. His eyes followed up the figure, recognisable features that he came to know over the years being refreshed before his eyes were acquainted with yours. His breath hitched in his throat, his mouth agape.

“Lonely…” (so lonely) I’m Mr. Lonely (Mr. Lonely) I have nobody (I have nobody) For my own (to call my own girl)

He looked at you as if you were an ethereal being that you had graced him with your being, his eyes sparkling as if you had a halo that ringed around your head. You reached out a hand for him to take. This couldn’t be real, he thought to himself, you were gone for so long and yet here you were in your glorious ambience. 

His wet, bitter, rough hand shakingly covers yours, afraid that if he was too forward with his movements you’d disappear again, choked sobs and gasps of disbelief rang between the both of you. 

I’m so lonely (so lonely) I’m Mr. Lonely (Mr. Lonely) I have nobody (I have nobody) For my own (to call my own girl) I am so lonely

He lets out a whimper before drawing back, you weren’t there, surely you weren’t. He had hurt you, you wouldn’t come back to him, his thoughts being interrupted as you take his hand in yours. Comfort, soft yet firm, reassuring as you caressed his hand with your thumb.

A loud whimper leaves his throat before getting off the ground, slightly tackling you into a hug, surprising you as you lift the umbrella so he wouldn’t hit it and you didn’t mind the dampness that came onto your clothes. One of your arms gently wraps around him, gently soothing his back as he silently cries into your shoulder, a small smile lifting on the edges of your lips never seeing him this vulnerable.

So lonely (lonely) So lonely (so lonely) Mr. Lonely (lonely) So lonely (so lonely)

You welcome him into your arms, letting the pitter-patter of rain engulf you both, the street lights dimly lighting the both of you, the empty streets giving you both the privacy that you need to comfort him. Neither of you spoke, letting the actions speak the words that were needed.

So lonely (lonely) So lonely (so lonely) So lonely  Mr. Lonely

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[whump-place]

A prompt for you!!

Whumpee after being rescued is scared to death of Caretaker, they just sit on their bed all day, believing they're locked like Whumper always left them locked in their room (though they're not). Caretaker sits with them and caresses their hair saying they care about Whumpee and are never gonna hurt them, but Whumpee is still scared because that's exactly what Whumper used to say after their torture sessions!

Poor Whumpee doesn't know how to act, they're so afraid </3

First of all, thank you so much! You are the first one to actually send me a prompt I hope you like it 😭

ontent: Whumpee thinks Caretaker is their new Whumper, self isolation, fear of punishment, past torture.

"Whumpee?" Someone was knocking at the door, Caretaker spoke, she sounded worried. "Are you there?"

What kind of question was that? Of course they were there, where else would they be? They wouldn't ever dream of escaping, they swear, they were good! They had to let Caretaker know that!

"Yes, ma'am. I'm here, this is where you left me, i didn't move, I promise." That was half true, Caretaker had left them on the bed, blankets covering their body, she had told them to rest and sleep and so they did. But in the morning they made the bed and sat on the edge, they didn't want to be punished for slacking.

"Oh, um. That's good? I guess." A small pause and then Caretaker spoke again. "Can I come in?"

Whumpee shoke their head. They don't want Caretaker near them, they just want to be left alone. But of course they didn't say that out loud, that would be suicidal.

"You can do as you please, ma'am." They answered instead. Their eyes were already tearing up, Whumper never visited them unless it was punishment day, and that hurts so much, please, they'll be good! They can be good, please!

The door slowly opened, Caretaker was right in front of them, holding a glass and an apple.

"Oh." That was all Caretaker said, her eyes wandering around the room, Whumpee made sure that it was spotless, was something wrong? "You...? Nevermind."

Caretaker set the glass and the apple on the nightstand, carefully taking a step back.

"Whumpee... can I speak to you for a second?"

"You can do as you please, ma'am" but please, don't hurt me. Not yet, please.

Caretaker frowned a bit, and Whumpee was sure that they already messed up, but instead of a beating, Caretaker said:

"Thank you"

Whumpee hadn't expected her to actually sit next to them, usually Whumper would 'talk' throwing things at Whumpee, yelling, sometimes they even kicked them, Whumper doesn't sit next to them, never.

"You see, Whumpee. I... Ahg. What am I doing?"

Caretaker didn't say another word, Whumpee realized that she wasn't good at showing her feelings through words, but through actions.

Her hand slowly caresses their hair, not saying a word.

"I know you are scared, but I promise that I will never hurt you. I... I don't really know what could I say to make you feel better, I'm sorry"

Those were really kind words, Whumpee must admit. But there was still something that made him shiver; Whumper used to do the same. Exactly the same.

Kind words, kind touch. Whumper liked to see their pet at his feet or with their head on their lap, begging for a gentle touch just before being...

Whumpee shut their eyes, leaning on the touch, they were so damn afraid.

#whump prompt #whump tropes #whump writing #whumpee #caretaker #pet whump #whumpee thinks caretaker is their new master #fear of punishment