#it’s been consuming my thoughts i had to post about it

[niningtori]

make you cry | part two: beomgyu's ending

part one

pairing: choi beomgyu x you

summary: after your feelings for beomgyu are revealed, you take some time to heal from your "breakup". as for beomgyu, he's realizing just how important you are to him, but it may be too little too late.

genre: romance, angst, smut (MDNI), fwb

warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, creampie, sub!gyu, oral (f. rec), dacryphilia, dirty talk, praise, degradation (m. rec), if i missed anything lmk

word count: 3.4k

notes: hello again friends! am i satisfied with this? no. am i still posting it? YES. as you may know, there will be an alternate ending with hyuka as the lead. i will probably post that on my bday (the 24th). until then, i hope you enjoy this! and again.. pls don't be mean ;_; i'm still new to writing smut and this is not proofread

it’s almost been a year since the night you said goodbye to beomgyu. time has healed most things, but your rage certainly helped speed it along. throwing away old polaroids beomgyu took of the both of you, past birthday cards he wrote when he was feeling particularly sentimental, and clothes he had forgotten to take home with him most definitely aided your catharsis, even if you did it all in the midst of a rampage. do you regret it now that you’re relatively calm? maybe a little bit, but not having reminders of beomgyu around your home outweighs any sliver of regret you may or may not harbor. traces of him fade from your body first, then your mind, then your heart. you still sort of miss him, that much is clear, but when you really think about it, you’re not sure why that is. so you try not to think about it at all.

you're doing okay now, truly. it's not like you forgive him or anything, but you're not as angry as you used to be, which, you know, is better than nothing. you regret sleeping with him, regret not speaking up for yourself sooner, even regret taking his hand when he held it in front of you all those years ago, but you're starting to realize that it doesn't matter anymore. what's done is done, no use crying over it any longer. as for everything beomgyu did to you, he did it and he meant it. fuck whatever explanations he has. 

on beomgyu’s end, it's not like he hasn't tried to contact you, but that only resulted in you blocking him on every conceivable plane. he convinced one of his friends to give him his instagram login so he can see your posts, but that’s about all he has to go off of these days. from the looks of it, it seems like you’re doing pretty well on your own. your friendship with kai seems to have strengthened because you’re calling him your best friend now, and who knows if you’re fucking each other. the jealousy he feels is all-consuming. to be honest, beomgyu knows he wasn’t the best of friends towards you, even before the hooking up, but he still feels wronged somehow. he’s thought, in great detail, about how he would act if the roles were reversed, but that only makes him feel worse. because he’d forgive you. he’d be angry for a while, this much he knows, but he’d always forgive you. you are, or were, his best friend, after all. and maybe even something more, but he doesn’t want to think about that. 

he’s shown up at your apartment, too. especially while drunk. sometimes, it’s because he misses you. most times, it’s because he’s so drunk it feels like the only place that feels like home. you never open the door, though. he likes to think it’s because you’re not there, but after the fifth time, he knows better. 

-

well, it had to happen sooner or later. your town is only so big and your friend circle is so small, of course running into beomgyu was not a matter of if, but when. even still, he looks positively shocked to see you at the house party of one of kai’s friends. as soon as you lock eyes with him, you know you’re in for it. you should leave, and you really, really would, but it’s a birthday party and kai’s your designated driver. you’d make him look bad if you left so soon, so you decide the best course of action is to get drunk so your head stops hurting. after downing some drinks, you carefully avoid beomgyu and make your way to some random bedroom just to cool off. 

you’re a few drinks in, head buzzing and tongue feeling heavy. it was bitter work, but each shot had you feeling less and less suffocated by beomgyu’s presence. you wish you didn’t care as much as you do, but the feeling is still there. seeing him should spark nothing in you, but you can’t help but feel indignant. and honestly? a little sad, too. things have gotten better, but all the old feelings have been dredged up with a vengeance. 

while you’re trying not to think about him, as if on cue, beomgyu bursts through the door. 

“h-hi,” he says hesitantly. really? that’s it? hi?

“uh… hi?” you say unsurely, kind of at a loss for words.

“how are you?”

“what do you want?” you ask as if he’s a fly who won’t stop buzzing around you. he supposes, in a way, he is. 

“i-i just wanna talk to you,” he says meekly. 

“about what? there's nothing left to say,” you argue. and with that, you rise from the bed, preparing to leave.

“i’m sorry!” he exclaims, the words leaving his mouth before he can get a chance to reel them back in. “i’m just… really, really sorry.”

“i don’t care,” you say flatly, crossing your arms and not even sparing him a glance. now that stings. 

“but i’m sorry!” he repeats, just like a child. “can’t you forgive me?” 

“and what exactly are you sorry for?” you turn to look at him. “sorry for treating me like shit for years, sorry you fucked me when i told you i wasn’t interested, or sorry because i’m not there at your beck and call anymore?” his face crumbles at your unforgiving words. 

“i’m… i’m sorry for how i treated you. i know i was wrong, but i’ll never do it again if you just give me a chance.”

“no,” you reply firmly. 

“please?” he begs, teary-eyed and words unsteady.

“what exactly do you want from me?” you sigh irritatedly. “if you want things to go back to how they were before, you’re out of your fucking mind.” 

“what if i don’t want things to go back to how they were? 

“then what do you want?” you ask, genuinely curious now.

“i want you, that’s all. things don’t need to go back to how they were. i just need you.” 

“need me?” you laugh dryly. “you need me now? you only miss me because you don’t have me at your service anymore. stop wasting my fucking time.” 

“that’s not true! i miss you. i-i know i’m late, but i really miss you. i’m sorry i didn’t realize it sooner.” he looks so… pathetic like this. it’d be sad if it weren’t so goddamn vindicating. before you can come up with a response, he’s hurriedly saying his next words. 

“i-if you wanted me to learn my lesson, i’ve learned it. i promise i have. i promise i’ll never, ever take you for granted again.”

“beomgyu,” you sigh, closing your eyes and massaging your temples, “this isn’t about teaching you a lesson. this is about me not being willing to put up with you anymore.” he looks absolutely devastated by your harsh words.

“i’m begging you,” he says, voice shaking like a leaf. 

“why does it matter? what, you haven’t been able to get your dick wet? do you need pussy on tap again?” he blushes at your words. you must’ve hit a sore spot.

“so that’s it. you don’t miss me at all. you just want to take advantage of me.” you don’t know why, but your own words don’t just hurt him, but yourself. you’re not sure what you were expecting, but you can't help but feel disappointed. missing you is still all about him. what he wants, what he thinks he needs. 

“i love you,” he says. what?

“w-what?” 

“i love you,” he repeats with more vigor. "i didn’t know it then, but i know it now. i miss you so much because i love you. and i want to be with you.” this whole thing is so ridiculous, you don’t know whether to laugh in his face or beat the shit out of him, but you can’t deny the way your heart flutters (and clenches) at his words.  

“you have no idea what you’re talking about,” you say coldly. what the hell does beomgyu know about love? love is selfless, self-sacrificing. he doesn’t know a fucking thing about that. this must be a new way of trying to keep you all to himself. but it’s working.

“i know you don’t think i do, and i understand why. i just want you to give me a chance to show you that i mean it. i’ll do anything.” 

he’s annoying, no doubt, but you like how he looks when he begs. you could get used to this.

how do you say no to him when he’s begging so feverishly like this? beomgyu hasn’t begged for anything in his fucking life. he hasn’t needed to, given how easily everything has worked out for him thus far. but this new side of him sparks a new fire in you you had no idea existed. you’re struck with a sadistic new idea you will probably regret, but right now? you want to act on it.

“anything?” 

“anything,” he says so quickly you can’t help but laugh a little.

“then strip,” you command.

“w-what?” he asks, eyes blown wide in shock.

“you heard me.”

“b-but the party?” 

“whatever,” you sneer. “if you’re not going to do it, i’m leaving.” you turn to leave, but he yanks you back and looks at you with pleading eyes. 

“i’ll do it,” he says with newfound determination. you slyly lock the door and he gulps before pulling his shirt over his head. he’s been naked before you many times, but this feels different. he feels like he’s being scrutinized to a degree where he can feel your eyes boring into him. you tilt your chin up and raise your eyebrows expectantly. with shaky hands, he undoes his pants and lets them fall to the floor. he’s embarrassingly hard already, if the tent in his boxers is of any indication, which only makes you smile meanly.

“i don’t remember telling you to stop,” you say arrogantly. he gulps and finishes undressing, cock slapping comically into his stomach. he stands fully naked and feels smaller than he ever has. you push him onto the bed and he wonders what you have in store for him. 

you straddle him, still fully clothed, but hiking your dress up just a bit so he can see how soaked you are through your panties. he whines when you take one of his hardened nipples between your fingers and experimentally tweak it. 

“do you like that, beomie?”

he nods feverishly and says “like it, like it so much!” you smirk in satisfaction as you plant a searing kiss on his chest and he can’t bite back his moans. between you sucking a blooming hickey and toying with his chest, his mind is fuzzy and all he can feel is pure ecstasy.

this isn’t about him, though. and you make that clear when you move and situate your clothed pussy over his face.

“sit on my face, please, please, please. wanna taste you,” he cries. well, you won’t say no this time. 

you hold onto the headboard as he moves your ruined panties to the side and he gasps when he sees how wet you are. he whines again, showing you just how badly he wants to be in it, but all you do is lower yourself onto him. his tongue is skilled, just like it’s always been, but there’s a sense of desperation that wasn’t there before. he switches between fucking your hole with his warm tongue and sucking on your clit like a man starved. you feel your legs buckling as you reach your end, but his hands grip your soft thighs even after you finish, lapping at your pussy like a damn dog. 

“ah, too much! b-bad boy!” you exclaim. that doesn’t stop him though, and now you’re sober enough to notice how desperately he’s fucking into nothing at all. his cock, usually so pretty and pink, is now a deep red color from the lack of reprieve.

you thread one hand in his hair, just to have something to hold onto, and he groans into your pussy when you lightly tug his hair. before you can do anything more, you’re falling apart on his tongue and crying out his name. a sound he never thought in a million years he’d hear again, but what a lovely sound it is.

“sit on my cock, p-please?” he begs when you finally raise from his face. 

“you’re not in a position to be asking me for anything, beomgyu,” you say.

“please? baby, it’s aching.” you throw a look back and see he’s right. it’s beet red and leaking an ungodly amount of precum. your pussy clenches around nothing when you see how desperate he is for you.

“please? need you,” he says with tears in his eyes. 

after all this time, you’re still so fucking weak for him. you sigh as you take off your dress and his eyes widen when he watches your breasts bounce as you toss the tiny little thing somewhere behind you. 

he goes to grab them, but you slap his hands away and it’s all he can do to keep himself from kicking his feet like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

“but why?!” he asks frustratedly. 

“bad boys don’t get to touch,” you shrug, and he’s a split second away from whining when you harshly grab the base of his cock, shutting him up once and for all. before you can lower yourself onto him, he’s cutting into your desire with his next words.

“a-are you fucking him?” he asks meekly. it doesn’t take a genius to figure out he’s talking about kai. 

“why do you care? aren’t you the one who’s always going on and on about ‘no strings attached’?” you spit and he looks sorrier than you’ve ever seen him. to be honest, you’re not fucking kai. you’ve never seen each other that way, actually. he’s been nothing short of amazing to you, to be sure, but his lingering feelings for his ex and yours for beomgyu didn’t make for the best foundation for love. at this point, you were the best of friends. nothing more, nothing less. but beomgyu doesn’t need to know that. 

any words of complaint on his part are cut short by you sinking down on him. 

“mmh… o-oh my god,” he says hoarsely as the tip of his cock pushes through your entrance. it’s always been a tight fit, but you’ve been celibate for nearly a whole year. your muscles aren’t used to the intrusion and he can feel it. still, you continue sinking down onto him until every inch is sheathed in you and he’s touching your cervix. you can swear you feel him in your womb. his tears are falling freely now as he can feel you adjust around him, pussy clenching against your will as you try to accommodate his length and girth. 

“s-so pretty,” he says as his bleary eyes try to focus on you. you let out an airy laugh, but truthfully, you aren’t faring much better. he looks so perfect like this, sobs coming from his pretty mouth and tears spilling over his reddened cheeks. that’s all the permission you need to really start. slowly, you pull yourself up with no little effort on your part. your pussy nearly turns inside out trying to get yourself off of his length. the lewd image engraves itself in his eyes and he cries even harder. 

“l-love you, love you, love you so much,” he whines, eyes rolling back from the pleasure. his mouth is open and you think you might even see a bit of drool pooling at the corners of his lips. you don’t respond, but instead you mercilessly sink back down in one fluid motion. 

“ah!” you both cry out at the feeling. you’re so full, you can barely stand it, so you don’t. up and down, you begin bobbing on his cock with little regard for his sorry state. he grabs your hips, pulling you down and fucking up into you, not once letting you falter in your pace. his grip will leave bruises, but you’re not interested in the repercussions of your actions now as beomgyu grits his teeth and rams harder and harder into you. he’s so lost in the feeling, he no longer cares about your so-called rules as he grabs your bare tits and pops one in his mouth. he begins sucking and rubbing his tongue on it and his big, veiny hand is busy teasing the other one. 

“i- i thought i said you don’t get to touch,” you manage to choke out between gasps.

“c-can’t help it! your tits are so pretty!” he says as if it’s completely out of his control. and it really might be. beomgyu doesn’t look like he’s in control of anything at this very moment. he just didn’t realize how much he’d love the feeling. with his words of praise and the suckling of your chest, you feel yourself coming closer and closer to the edge. 

“gyu, i’m coming!” you exclaim as spasm around him. a few seconds later, and you feel his hot seed overflowing from your insides. after a couple of more sloppy thrusts, you’re collapsing on top of him and panting heavily.

“so good, so perfect,” he whispers before pulling out. what you don’t expect is how he flips you over onto the bed and slides himself in your aching cunt again. 

“g-gyu?!” you stutter.

“j-jus’ wanna show you how much i missed you,” he slurs, mouth agape and eyes totally glazed over. he hikes your legs up over his shoulders and pistons in and out of you at an ungodly pace. he’s so deep, you can feel hot tears spring in your eyes as you struggle to take all of him in. he leans over and shoves his tongue in your accepting mouth. 

“good pussy,” he says in a daze when he parts from you. “so fucking tight. j-jus’ for me, right?” he asks, and you can hear the insecurity in his voice. you’re silent for a moment before you answer quietly.

“just for you.” he smiles as if he’s relieved and continues to fuck you into the mattress until he’s painting your insides again. he pulls out and the sinful sight of cum leaking out of your puffy hole sears his eyes. you look so beautiful like this, when you’re full of nothing but him. the thought of doing this forever, just you and him and no one else, is enough to make him feel happiness he’s never felt before.

he collapses next to you and pulls you into his warm embrace. he’s never done this before. not after sex, anyway, but he’s shown you the most vulnerable sides of him tonight. the sides you used to cry about not being able to see.

“you didn’t answer my question before,” beomgyu whispers.

“what?” you ask, still in a daze.

“are you fucking him?” you want to sit up and smack him, but he cages you in his arms. leave it to beomgyu to ruin the mood

“... no, but i just don’t see why you would care. weren’t you getting your dick wet until you couldn’t find anyone else?” 

“i wasn’t! i… i couldn’t get hard for them…” he trails off, almost hoping you didn’t hear. but you did. you don’t know whether to laugh or cry. is he serious? 

“and the only reason why i’m asking is because i just can’t stand to see you with anyone else.” for some reason, your temper flares at this. 

“yeah? well imagine how i felt for years.” he’s silent at this. how can he make up for years of making you feel like garbage? and how could you bear feeling like this for years on end? it hasn’t quite been a year for him yet, but he feels absolutely gutted. every day without you is miserable, to say the very least. and seeing you with someone else? heartbreaking.

“being together is a bad idea,” you sigh after putting some thought into it. “we’ll just fight and —” 

“we won’t fight!” he exclaims. “why would we fight? i’ll just listen to anything you say!” 

oh. you could really, really get used to this.

notes pt. 2: is it normal to never be satisfied w what u write? bc that's how i feel ;_; but whatever! it is what it is i fear. anyway, i hope u still enjoyed it!

taglist: @my313 @superbbananananana @lonelybutterflytae @cherrycolaberry @everythingvirgoes @beomnoullitheorem @sunny4cast

series taglist*: @gothraccoons @jaxyy219 @idontwantoeatspicy @soobsfairy444 @denleave1088 @notevenheretbh1 @fairfootedflekk @hihello-pinky @ilovesimjaeyun143 @sweetttkissess @seolis-world @midwinterblizzard @slutty-cherry @run2min

*not everyone's tag options were open, but i still put ur user in so u can see that i tried!! also, if you're an ageless blog, i'd prefer if you didn't read my works even if you're not a minor because it makes me uncomfortable. for that reason, you were not tagged. thank u friends <3

#niningtori #make you cry #beomgyu hard thoughts #beomgyu hard hours #beomgyu smut #txt smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #mdni #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu angst #txt angst

[magicalbats]

Situational Awareness (Dan Heng x reader)

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 10,928

Warnings: afab!reader, some gendered language, shower sex, intercrural sex, thigh fucking

A/N: I've been working here and there on a few different projects (including my long overdue Kinktober pieces, worry not!) but in terms of standalone fics I figured this one was done so I may as well post it. Am I doing so at six in the morning when no one is awake to see it? Absolutely. lol I'm not a plumber so please don't come at me about the shoddy pipe excuse btw, haha

⭐

The unmistakable evidence of all your fooling around is laying across the floor in the form of hastily dropped, rumpled towels. They’d hit the ground in a disarranged heap after the fall, but were still clean as far as you could tell. Not that you could really ask for more on the off chance that they weren’t considering the fright you’d just given the staff but … 

Hanging your head, you make the conscious effort to draw a deep, calming breath and come down from the strange high you’d slipped into. You were sweating rather profusely, you’re a bit surprised to find. What had gotten into you? Hotel devils? Surely that was about as absurd as someone climbing into an oddly inviting but no less strange closet as if they’d been personally summoned into its dark depths by some higher force, and yet that was exactly what you’d done. There must have been something seriously wrong with you. 

Perhaps it was the Stellaron inside your body causing problems with the electrical signals in its flesh and blood prison. Or maybe you’d hit your head somewhere along the way and the side effects were only now starting to manifest themselves. Your bet was on the tail end of that showdown with the Doomsday Beast back on the space station. 

Either way, you desperately needed to get it together. 

Straightening up, you send a wary look at the closet in question. Its doors were still thrust open from where you’d leaped out of its (frustratingly inviting) maw some moments ago and there was no denying the faint tug of invitation you could feel trying to coax you back inside but you refused to heed its call. This wasn’t the time or even really the place. You’d let it get the better of you once and that was already more than enough. 

“Relax.” You remind yourself as you inch closer to the closet. Resolutely, you reach out and shut the doors. The compulsion slowly fades to nothing and you’re once again left to your own devices. It comes as a great relief. 

A harried sigh escapes you as you bend to retrieve the fallen towels next. Perhaps you should leave a note of apology out for the staff. Who knows what they were saying about you right now, the strange girl who likes to hide in closets and scare the living daylights out of unsuspecting workers. On second thought, though, maybe you should just pretend like nothing at all had even transpired here today. Admitting to your own strange behavior in writing would rob you of any plausible deniability, wouldn’t it?

Turning that over in your head, you carry the small bundle of towels into the attached bathroom. Set them down on the sink and almost walk right back out before realizing that you should probably take a shower before bed. Not only were you covered in a fine sheen of perspiration from your time spent getting all worked up inside the closet but you were also freezing. You hadn’t noticed it when you were still running hot on adrenaline and nerves, but now you were gradually starting to shiver. 

Just how long had you been crouched inside the cramped dark like that? You really had no idea, as if that part of your memory were an empty cavernous void. It could have been only a few short minutes for all you could tell, or it could have been an eternity. It was impossible to say. 

Pivoting, you reach over the tub and wrench the faucet on. The modestly sized room is instantly consumed by the sound of running water as you step back to shrug out of your jacket and take off your gloves. A moment later you test the temperature with your fingers only to snatch them back with a hiss when you find it still ice cold. That certainly wasn’t going to do. 

In total you spend about twenty minutes fiddling with the steel knobs, trying them in this and then that position to no avail. No matter what you did the water never seemed to get any warmer, finally leaving you with no choice but to simply turn the damn thing off. You almost give up right then and there. In fact, you consider it very, very hard. 

But what ultimately stops you from crawling into bed with nary another thought to the matter is the shuddering chill that’s fallen over you without any of the fast pumping excitement to keep it at bay. You weren’t just cold in the way curling up with a thick blanket could help with. It felt like you were right on the verge of slipping into hypothermia. The thought of laying awake all night shivering nonstop did not sound like the best start to this Trailblaze expedition so you decide to try your luck next door with March. 

She opens up on the third knock, wearing her blue bunny pj’s. 

“What are you doing out here at this time of night? I thought you were room service or something!” 

“Sorry.” You offer her a weak smile, fighting to stop your teeth from loudly clattering. “I think there’s something wrong with the tub in my room. All I can get to come out is cold water.” 

March’s brows take an expeditious trip up to her hairline. “No way, you’re having problems too? I thought it was just me but I didn’t want to be a negative Nelly about it!” 

Her arm lashes out like a striking serpent, grabbing you by the wrist and dragging you inside. 

The door bangs shut with a certain amount of indignation as she turns to look at you, worry flashing across her expression when she takes in the faint shudder making your shoulders bunch up. Standing this close to her, you can see that her hair is damp. 

“Were you able to take a shower?” 

“Not a very good one! The hot water only lasted for about fifteen minutes before it started to come out freezing cold!” Huffing, she crosses her arms over her chest. “This place sure does look fancy but I’m so not impressed. What kind of operation do they think they’re running here, huh? Belobog is way too cold for them not to have working hot water tanks!” 

You consider that for a brief moment. “Maybe that’s the problem? If a bunch of people are trying to bathe at the same time and using up all the hot water - -“ 

“Then they should’ve thought of that before they opened up a hotel! I mean, come on. That’s just common sense, right? And more importantly what’s up with you? You’ve been shivering non stop since I opened the door.” 

Don’t tell her about the closet. Don’t tell her about your exploits inside the closet. Whatever you do, do not tell her about that damned closet. 

“I think the chill is just starting to catch up with me.” You tell her, cool as … erm, ice. “I didn’t notice it too much at first but now I can’t stop shaking. I’d really like to take a hot shower.” 

“I bet.” She murmurs. Then, with more enthusiasm, “Come on, let’s see if mine wants to work!”

Taking your hand in hers, March guides you over to her attached bathroom where she flips on the overhead lights. You’re impressed to find it’s an almost identical copy of yours, just mirrored. Actually, they looked like they were directly adjacent to one another and situated along the same wall. But would that in turn mean … they were sharing the same series of pipes? No, that couldn’t be. Such an obvious structural design flaw would have surely raised some questions, wouldn’t it? 

Your attention thoughtfully drifts towards March as she bends over the side of the tub and smacks the faucet on. A  familiar sense of deja vu comes over you when the gurgling sound of running water rushes in to dominate the air but she doesn’t seem to pay it much mind so neither do you. A few seconds pass before she tests the water, clicks her tongue in annoyance and draws her hand back before trying again just another few seconds later. Truthfully March’s impatience had never been quite so glaring as it is right now.  

“Well, isn’t that just ridiculous!” She at last scoffs, evidently deeming the whole endeavor futile and turning the faucet off again. “It wouldn’t be such a big deal if this place wasn’t so cold. How is anyone coming in off the street supposed to get a good night’s rest if they can’t even have a warm shower?” 

You ponder that question with the same weight and consideration as the last one she’d posed. “Maybe they don’t get many visitors? Just think about it. How many times have we heard now that Belobog is the ‘last bastion of humanity’? They probably don’t get much in the way of tourism.” 

Turning, March pins you with an exceedingly strange look. “I don’t think you’re wrong about that but … wouldn’t that mean they’re mostly just keeping this place running for the sake of it? What a waste of resources.” She gives her head a quick shake. “Wait, that’s not important right now. We need to get you warmed up and safely tucked into bed! Do you want me to go down to the lobby with you to check what’s going on?” 

“No, that’s okay.” You quickly wave that off, feeling more than just a little self conscious about causing her any trouble. “It’s already getting late and you need your rest for tomorrow.  It wouldn’t make sense to waste so much time helping me with this when you could be sleeping instead.” 

“Hey, now. The same goes for all three of us. We’re in this together and you’d better not forget that! I don’t mind lending a hand. We are crewmates after all! 

“Thank you, really. But I’m sure I can figure something else out.” 

“Fine, if you’re sure … but at least stop by Dan Heng’s room and see if he’s in the same boat as us. If not, maybe he’ll let you use his shower tonight?” 

“Oh. That’s a good idea.” Consideringly, you start to turn and March follows hot on your heels as you step back out through the doorway. “He went into the room right across from yours, right? Since they’re on opposite sides, maybe I will have better luck.” 

“That’s the spirit! See, you just gotta’ keep your spirits high and everything will work out fine in the end. Isn’t that what they call trusting the process?” 

Pausing in front of the door, you pivot to look back at her. “I don’t think that particular saying applies here.” 

“Oh, whatever. Just go check in with Dan Heng and if he isn’t having any better luck come grab me again, okay? We’ll go down and talk to the receptionist together if we have to!” 

You smile, even though you try very hard not to. “Thanks, March. I really appreciate it.” 

Her voice follows after you as you open the door to see yourself out, a cheerful parting of  ‘good luck!’ following you out into the hall. Of all the warm welcomes you’d been greeted with upon boarding the Express, hers was easily the warmest of them all. You weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to properly repay her for that but you were certainly going to try. 

Out in the long carpeted corridor, you take a measly three steps to cross over to the opposite side and rap at the heavy wooden door. Dan Heng surprises you slightly when he opens up at the very first knock, almost like he’d been waiting just within.  

“Is something the matter?” 

The stark difference in your two companions' greetings makes something warm flicker to life inside your chest. You’d only known them and the rest of the Astral Express crew for a short while now but it was very much in line with what was quickly becoming comforting and familiar to you. March had been proactive and eager to know what you were doing while Dan Heng seemed to have concluded that something must be wrong if you were coming to his room like this. It was oddly reassuring, in a way. 

“This is probably going to sound like a strange question but have you taken a shower yet?” 

A vague look of confusion flashes across his face and then camps there. He was far from the most animated character you’d met on your journey thus far, but there’s no mistaking the look he levels on you now. 

“I haven’t quite gotten around to it yet.” He says slowly. “I was just jotting down some observational notes in my phone to input in the database later. Why?” 

“I don’t have any proof to back it up but I think March may have taken all my hot water. Our bathrooms are right next to each other.” 

Dan Heng’s expression shifts and settles into a perplexed scowl. “Is that why you’re shaking? You’d think a place like this would understand the importance of resource allocation …” Sighing, he steps to the side. “Come in. We can check it together.”

Feeling the pitter patter of hope skip across your ribcage, you step inside with him. He closes the door and turns the lock in place (paranoid or overly cautious?) before leading you over to the bathroom. None of these hotel rooms are particularly big and the two of you are soon crowding around the porcelain tub together. 

A steady turn of his wrist has the water gushing out, the same scene playing out for the third time in a row. Except it doesn’t take long at all for steam to start rising up from the faucet this go around and you feel like you could just collapse in relief. He still had hot water. You weren’t going to freeze to death after all. 

“There,” He murmurs, straightening to his full height again. “Go ahead and take your shower in here. I’ll be in the other room so just give me a shout if you need anything.” 

Dan Heng starts to turn, making your eyes go big and round with surprise. “But what about you? I don’t want to take up all of your hot water.” 

“It’s fine. I can just grab one after you're done.” 

“No, that won’t work.” You insist, reaching over to smack the faucet back off with a little more force than was strictly necessary. “March said she only had about fifteen minutes before the water started coming out cold. I’m not sure how long ago she took hers but when we checked it was still out of hot water.”

“Hmm,” He appears to hesitate at that, his gaze taking on the thoughtfully introspective look you were starting to recognize as the gears in his head turning. “Could it be that they get so few guests staying here that they just closed off some of the hot water pipes to ensure they don’t keep running? It’s not quite cold enough in the city for them to freeze so I don’t think it would hurt anything …” 

“Right?” You lift your brows in emphasis. “If Belobog is the only human settlement on this planet then what’s the point in keeping an entire hotel up and running?” 

“That’s a good point and I wondered about it as well. Unless this hotel was at one time meant to …” Humming softly under his breath, Dan Heng gives his head a slow shake. “No, there isn’t any point in speculating on that right now. We don’t have enough information to start making inferences. Figuring out what we’re going to do about the current problem should be our priority.” 

A quiet beat passes, loud in the absence of running water. 

“We could always shower together.” 

Dan Heng’s head doesn’t so much as move even a fraction of an inch but his gaze snaps up at you lightning fast. The sharp intensity in his eyes immediately makes you regret saying it. Were you being weird again, despite the absence of the closet to facilitate or otherwise encourage your odd behavior? Or was it really the Stellaron mixing up the radio signals in your brain? You weren’t sure what you would do if you managed to scare him off the same way you’d sent the hotel staff running and screaming. 

“Or,” He intones at length. “We could go down to the reception desk and ask them to look into it for us.” 

“March said the same thing.”

“But?” 

You breathe out a quick huff through your nose. “But that sounds like it might take a while. We’d have to explain what’s going on, have someone come take a look at it and then they’d try to fix it. We already agreed that we’ll have a busy day tomorrow so I don’t want to cause any trouble for either of you. Not if I can help it. This would be the faster solution, right?” 

To his credit, Dan Heng’s expression softens in as much as it ever does. Which admittedly isn’t a whole lot, but it’s enough to be noticeable. “You aren’t causing problems for us. Don’t even give it another thought and, please, don’t ever let March hear you say that. I don’t doubt she’d take it upon herself to personally show you just how untrue that really is. That being said though, I can understand the reasoning. Doing it that way would be quicker.” 

“But?” You volley it right back at him. 

“There’s not actually a ‘but’ here. If you’re sure about it then I suppose I don’t mind going about it this way either. It would certainly get both of us into bed far quicker than any other alternative.” 

You don’t exactly understand the eager thump your heart gives at his acquiescence but you allow yourself to smile up at him when the urge suddenly strikes you full force. “Then it’s settled?” 

A curt nod. “Yes, although I do hope you actually know what it is we’ve just agreed to. If you change your mind at any point don’t hesitate to tell me and I’ll get right out.” 

“Don’t be silly.” You assure him, reaching for the hem of your loose fitted shirt. “I'd never kick you out like that, Dan Heng. Both of us deserve to go to bed nice and warm, and clean.”

He starts to open his mouth — to say what, you’re not sure, because it catches in his throat when you unceremoniously tug your shirt up over your head in one smooth motion. You lose sight of him for a brief moment through the soft knit cotton and by the time you get it pulled completely off he’s pointedly looking elsewhere. Anywhere but at you. 

“Is something wrong?” You quietly venture, a soft note of uncertainty creeping into your voice now. 

“No, it’s fine. Just … hurry up and get undressed so we can get this over with.” Decisively turning his back to you, he starts to shrug out of his long jacket. You hesitate, looking from him to the shirt balled up in your hands and then down at your own chest. A mild pang of relief comes over you at finding your plain black sports bra very much where it should have been. 

So you hadn’t forgotten to put it on. Good. That could have been rather embarrassing for you. 

In the same breath you abruptly realize that you were about to take it off and get naked in the same room with Dan Heng who was already working to get all of his clothes pulled off too. He seemed to understand that well enough. Perhaps even more so than you actually did. So why had he reacted like that when you’d taken off your blouse? Surely it wasn’t all that strange for someone to disrobe in front of another … was it? 

Pondering this conundrum, you carefully watch Dan Heng fold and set his garments aside on top of the sink one layer and one deliberate motion at a time. His coat and the bracer worn on his right arm make up the bottom of the pile, followed by the lightweight hip guards worn around his waist along with the belt that secured it all. The second skin of his tight black shirt comes off next, revealing a smooth back that flexes powerfully with the overhead motion he uses to get it peeled away. It doesn’t escape your notice that, through it all, he makes a point of not looking at you. All of his attention remains forward and locked on the task at hand, neither uninhibitedly baring himself at you nor stealing any lingering glances in your direction. 

It was almost as if in despite of the shared nudity that was inherent in an arrangement like this, he still wanted to give you your privacy. Or as much of it as one could possibly have when bathing with another person. 

Was that what it was then? The root cause of his reaction was … reticence on his part? You hadn’t stopped long enough to consider that or any of the other potential implications that came with it but it seemed Dan Heng very much had. If he was behaving this way then you probably should be too. 

With that decided, you turn away from him and mimic his actions of neatly folding your top. You don’t have anywhere else to put it though so you have to make do with setting it on top of the toilet lid. The following silence is surprisingly rife with some unnamed tension, interspersed only by the near constant rustle of clothes being removed. Your boots, socks, skirt and underwear are all soon discarded, and you have to try very hard not to look when you hear him shuffle towards the tub again. 

“Ready? I’m going to turn the water back on.” 

“Go ahead.” 

The spout turns with a soft creak and the faucet roars to life, loudly spewing water into the basin. Same as before, and much to your relief, it only takes a few moments for steam to begin wafting up from the noisy deluge and start creeping into your periphery. He quickly smacks the plunger down to redirect the stream to the shower head and the bathroom is suddenly at least two octaves quieter than it was before. You could hear yourself think again. Thank goodness for that. 

Silently, Dan Heng steps in first and you quickly scuttle after him. You weren’t keen on losing out on even a single drop of hot water but your refusal to look up from the floor makes actually getting into the shower a bit of an awkward process. You have to feel around with your foot to figure out how close you are and your big toe hits the side of the porcelain a bit too hard, making you hiss through your teeth. Quickly shaking it off though, you lift your leg and blindly step over the rim. 

Only to slip when you come down wrong on the other side, the slick surface ripping you off balance with a gut wrenching lurch. You collapse forward, arms flailing, but Dan Heng is quick to grab hold of you before you can hit the floor. Once all I said done, the only thing you’ve succeeded in doing is smacking your knee into the wall. 

“Owww …”

“What in the world do you think you’re doing? You could have seriously hurt yourself or broken your neck.” He snaps at you, his tone still as mild as it ever is but there’s no mistaking the sharp bite of reprimand lurking just below the surface. You feel vaguely like a troublesome toddler he’s been tasked with babysitting as he hauls you further into the safety of the tub before reaching up to pull the screen closed with a sound click of his tongue. “I was wondering what was taking you so long to get in but I didn’t expect you to jump without even looking first.” 

“I’m sorry,” You murmur, still trying to keep your eyes averted as you carefully work to get your feet situated under you. “I just — I didn’t want to invade your privacy.”

“My privacy?” He echos you, incredulous. “You should have considered that before you suggested us taking a shower together. It’s a little late for it, don’t you think?”

Cautiously slow, you bring your hands up to brace them across his damp chest and gently push. Dan Heng’s hold on you hesitates and then relaxes, letting you pull free so you can take a step back. That his fingers linger at your forearms as if to steady you, or perhaps catch you should you slip and fall again, does not escape your notice, but you decide not to comment on that just yet. Or maybe ever, depending on how the next few minutes played out. 

“Sorry.” It’s all you can think to say now. 

“There’s nothing to apologize for. While I do appreciate the consideration, there’s no getting around the fact we’re going to see each other naked in a situation like this. It’s okay to look.” 

“But?” You whisper into the steady stream of water coming down at his back. 

“No ‘but’s. I’d much rather you look than hurt yourself.” His hands shift, adjusting to loosely grasp your elbows. When he gently tugs you in closer to him, you acquiesce without a fuss. You hadn’t noticed how big they were until now and that makes for an unexpectedly convincing argument to encourage your compliance. “Here, get under the shower head. We should make sure you warm up enough before we run out of hot water.” 

You can’t exactly argue with that when the rising steam only seems to further highlight just how chilled your skin actually is so you let him get you spun around, trading spots. The steady, hammering rush of warmth hits you all at once as you’re directed into the spray and a violent shudder instantly races up your spine. Whimpering softly, you curl in on yourself as you bring your arms up to wrap them around your upper body. The resulting nudge against painfully hard nipples almost steals the air from your lungs but if Dan Heng notices the way you subtly jolt at the contact he doesn’t show it. 

Evidently oblivious, he reaches up to almost casually palm the top of your head. At first you think he’s merely petting you in an uncharacteristic show of doting affection but you quickly realize he’s helping to work the water into your hair, ensuring it’s thoroughly sodden. Still uncharacteristic, or perhaps unprecedented was the better word, but decidedly nice. 

Very nice, actually. 

“I didn’t take you for the shy sort.” He eventually murmurs, more to himself than to you. No way were you about to pretend you hadn’t heard him though. 

“Funny. I was thinking the exact same thing.” 

“Me?” His blunt fingers pause in your hair. You can feel him peering down at you through the steamy gloom that encompasses the cramped tub but you were still hesitant to lift your eyes and look. There was no telling what you might accidentally catch a glimpse of. 

You really had no idea, truth be told, but given his earlier reaction it seemed like one’s body wasn’t meant to be ogled or stared at. He’d looked away from you for a reason. It only seemed fair if you gave him the same courtesy. 

A terse, silent moment passes. 

Evidently realizing he wouldn’t be getting any further explanation, Dan Heng exhales a quiet sigh into the thickened air before directing his hands down to your shoulders. “Turn around. I’ll wash your hair for you.” 

Not only did that sound like a rare, once in a blue moon offer you were sure to never hear again, it also seemed way safer than facing him the whole time. You were already having trouble keeping your eyes from wandering from the single strip of his bare arm you’d settled on, having had no other choice when you were standing so close to each other. 

So you gratefully pivot, giving him your back. Your shoulders start to relax from their defensive hunch now that the warm water is running down your front and slowly seeping into your skin. It seems to feed into the internal temperature of your core as he shifts behind you, reaching around for something out of sight. The next time his hands come up to touch your hair, it’s with a healthy dollop of shampoo coating his palms and fingers. 

A soft sigh of contentment slips out of you as he starts to work it into a nice lather over your scalp, keeping your neck tipped back so he could still work without having to deny yourself the comfort of the shower head. He’s as diligent with this as he is everything else, yet so incredibly gentle about it that you almost start to doze right there on your feet. It felt beyond good. It was amazing. 

“Gotta’ say I didn’t expect this Trailblaze mission to turn out like this.” He says at length, just when you’re starting to really drift off to la-la land. 

Blinking yourself awake, you fix your attention on the ceiling. “Neither did I.” 

“And to think, it’s only just started. You’ll have to forgive me if being I’m too rough by the way. I don’t often groom anyone else’s hair besides my own.” 

“No, it’s perfect.” 

He huffs a quiet laugh but refrains from saying anything further until another minute or two has gone by, and a nice, thick lather has accumulated over the circumference of your skull. “There, that should do it. Turn around again but keep your head tipped back so you don’t get suds in your eyes.” 

Obediently, you move to spin around but you seem to have forgotten something rather important in your drowsy state. Namely your close proximity to one another, how very near you were standing to him. But it’s too late by the time you realize your mistake though, and your tits wetly swipe across the lower half of his chest with a sharp burst of fleshy friction. Both of you draw a quick inhale in near perfect unison at the contact and your eyes pop open where they’d started to slide shut again, suddenly wide awake. 

For the first time since you’d stepped foot inside the shower, you find yourself looking directly up at Dan Heng. His startled expression must surely mirror yours because for a long time the two of you just stare at one another in mute silence. You aren’t sure what to make of this. Not the situation itself or the twisting knot low in your gut. 

You think you should probably take a step back and put some much needed space between the two of you but you don’t get the chance. Unable (or perhaps unwilling?) to find the presence of mind to make your legs move before he reaches up to touch your hair again, you soon find yourself trapped between his arms. He’s got you caged in like this while he dutifully scrubs the shampoo away, evidently too committed to the task at hand to stand down even when a distant note of unmistakable fluster has settled across his normally stoic expression. 

And as if Pandora’s Box had been effectively ripped open, like you couldn’t stop yourself now that you’d already looked once, your eyes start to wander. You take in his usually fluffy hair, now waterlogged and heavy across his brow, and the concentrated set of his mouth. Glancing lower, you can make out how well defined his chest and arms are, much more packed with muscle than one would expect from someone who, according to March, spent so much of his time in the databank room aboard the Express. You’d already seen him in action a handful of times though so it doesn’t exactly come as a surprise. He was strong and his firm physique showed that. And even lower than that … 

Your eyes widen at the sight of your breasts squished up against him. No wonder you’d felt that brush of skin on skin in such stunning high definition, even for as brief as it had been. What strikes you more than anything though is how soft and pliable your flesh looks shoved up against his. Where Dan Heng was hard with muscle and unrelenting, your chest was soft and invitingly malleable. A distant part of you innately understood that this was the physical difference between man and woman, the biological indicators of sex. It sparks something in the back of your mind and you fumble to grab hold of it, to comprehend what it means. 

Your frantic internal grasping is interrupted when Dan Heng roughly clears his throat, prompting you to snap your attention up with a little jolt. 

“Just what are you looking at?” 

“N - nothing.” You stammer, suddenly embarrassed. You’re not entirely sure why you should feel hot with shame and something else you can’t quite put your finger on but there’s no denying it’s there. You couldn’t tell if you were about to wilt and wither, or bonelessly melt into him. 

“I think I may have to take back what I said earlier.” He grumbles. “It might be preferable if you don’t look.” 

“Wha - -“

You feel it then. A soft nudge against your lower belly that sends your heartbeat lurching into overdrive and your legs instantly turn limp like overcooked noodles. It’s an entirely instinctive reaction, one you don’t understand anymore than all of the other confusing happenings that have taken place in this hotel bathroom, but when you try to pull away to get a look at what’s tickling your bellybutton, he just clutches at you tighter to keep you in place. 

“Please,” His voice is barely more than a hoarse whisper as he bends his head close, wincing even while he presses his damp forehead against yours. “Don’t move. Just … stay there until it goes away.” 

His expression is wretched. Dark brows knitted to create a deep wrinkle between them, his eyes so pinched you could barely see the dull blue of his irises through thick lashes. It almost scares you. Almost makes you second guess the wisdom in sharing a shower with someone else. No, that wasn’t quite right. 

It was a man you were bathing with and you were … a woman. That was what made this dangerous and ill advised. That was why he’d reacted the way he had at the start of all this. Oh, how terribly you had miscalculated the full scope of the situation. 

It’s a struggle to swallow down your jittery nerves and find your voice but you finally manage, somehow. “Does it hurt, Dan Heng?” 

“No.” He hisses, contradicting himself and what your eyes were clearly telling you. “This isn’t your fault or your problem. I should have been more cautious, that’s all. It’ll go away in time.” 

You don’t think you very much like the sound of that. “But why? Why does it have to just go away if it’s making you uncomfortable? I can help you.” 

Dan Heng sucks in such a sharp breath you can feel it rattling around inside his chest where you’re pressed right up against him. “Don’t say that.” He croaks. “You don’t know what it is you’re saying.”

“I can learn. You could teach me.” 

“Dammit …!” 

He stiffly shifts his weight then, redistributing his balance to the full center of his body. You got the distinct feeling he was trying to angle his pelvis away from you, to pull it out of reach where he could flag and soften without the close proximity of your body heat there to entice him. You rock with the motion though, follow the movement. Stay pressed against him and reach down with one hand to blindly feel for what was causing him such obvious distress. 

Your wrist bumps against the stiff flesh jutting out from his body, making him groan very low in his throat. It’s easy to find now that you have a general idea and you carefully wrap your fingers around the width of him, surprised yet delighted to find the skin silky soft and smooth. He twitches in your hold and swells, getting harder. Rapidly filling the rest of the way out while Dan Heng holds himself so tightly that you think he might just shatter and break right before your very eyes. You can’t help it though. Not only was curiosity a very compelling factor here but you also cared about him a great deal. The thought of watching your friend and fellow crewmate suffer in silence right in front of you wrenches at your very heart and makes it hard to think rationally. 

And it must be the same for Dan Heng too, because his fingers stay frozen in place as you feel along him. They remain buried in your hair, fervently clutching at your skull, as if you could be the lifeline that would save him but he continues to hold himself back for some reason. It’s hard to say if he’s scared of letting you go for fear of what he himself would do or because he feared what you might do to him with that freedom. He doesn’t try to stop you or pull away though. Just quietly seethes into the scant space separating you as you locate the bulbous head and give it a brief squeeze. That makes a tense shudder work through him, starting in the general vicinity of his hips before racing up to the rest of him. Distantly, you realize that he wants to roll his pelvis forward into the touch, to seek out more and bask in it, but he won’t. 

“Why do you fight it, Dan Heng?” 

He manages to choke out a mirthless laugh, though not without a good deal of effort. “We only just met not that long ago, for starters. It seems rude to act on such impulses given our brief rapport with one another.” 

“I don’t mind.” 

“Maybe I do.” 

You don’t think you believe that. If he really meant it he would have put an end to it by now, or at least made a greater effort to do so. But he just stands there, softly panting while you follow the length of him down to the base where a thick patch of curls brushes against your knuckles. The weight of him in your hand is surprisingly satisfying and you just can’t seem to stop yourself from exploring him. 

Twisting your hand downward, you find even more satiny soft skin waiting just below and you eagerly curl your fingers around that too. It’s incredibly pliant but he sucks in a sharp, gasping breath in response to being handled and your pulse erratically jumps with a start. 

“Gentle. Those are — sensitive.” 

“I’m sorry.” You murmur softly. “I could be a lot more careful if I could actually see what I was doing though.” 

A low rumble starts up in his chest, so faint you almost miss it under the constant spray from the shower head. Your whole body flushes, warming to the point of real discomfort but he doesn’t give you enough time to fully process any of it. Not the unexpected noise or the curling tendril of wanting low in your stomach. Not even the fact that you were currently holding the full weight of his manhood in the palm of your hand. 

To your genuine surprise, he starts to pull back. Extricates himself from you with exceedingly stiff motions that leave you fumbling for something to say. Another apology or perhaps a plea. You don’t know which and you never find out, because he grabs you by the shoulders and spins you around. You have no choice but to comply as he guides you forward, pushing you almost right up against the interior wall of the shower and totally disregarding your mouse squeak protests while he does it.

“Stop hogging all the water.” 

You open your mouth to snap back in response but all that comes out is a tiny little squawk of surprise when he pulls you back against him, moulding your wet back to the firm planes of his front. His hands drop to your waist then, taking bruising hold of your hips to press your lower body equally flush with his. There’s no mistaking the press of him now, the way it digs up into your lower back and slides into place along the middle seam of your backside like it naturally belonged there. It's as if you’ve suddenly forgotten how to breathe when he stiffly rolls his pelvis and grinds into you, somehow hesitant yet eager at the same time, before forcing himself to go still again. 

“Sorry,” He says right into your ear, low and hushed, as the warm spray washes over both of you now. “I thought I could control myself better than this …” 

“It’s okay.” 

“It's not. You only just joined the Astral Express, not to mention you — the way we found you … it feels like I’m taking advantage of the situation but that was never my intention. I swear it.”  

You understood what he meant even if he was reluctant to say it in quite so many words. There was a Stellaron inside of you but beyond that your identity was a complete unknown to everyone around you. Even you couldn’t say for sure who you were or who you’d once been, if you’d ever been anyone at all. That didn’t mean you were without your faculties though. You could still make decisions for yourself and take control of your own life. If that weren’t true then Himeko never would have given you the choice to join everyone on board the Express. This you knew to be true. 

So you pointedly push back on him, meeting his next stiltedly reluctant thrust. Dan Heng’s fingers bite into the meat of your hips in return, clutching at you so desperately you half expect to find bruises blooming in the same spots later on. That doesn’t really matter right now though. What’s most important is not only helping him, alleviating the discomfort that so obviously pains him, but also proving your own autonomy. To him as much as to yourself. 

“It’s okay, Dan Heng. You don’t have to hold back.” 

Groaning softly in what you think must be relief, he huddles close and curls in tight against you. Nuzzles at your temple in a coaxing manner that makes you tip your head back towards him. Water runs down your face in heavy rivulets, matting your eyelashes together, but you pay it little mind. You’re much more interested in the way Dan Heng angles his mouth down and slots it against yours in a kiss that is equal parts tentative and demanding. The heightened state of his emotions is blatant in the hard press of his lips, the hungry pull that makes you want to submit and give him everything he could ever need or want. There’s a distant note of domination lurking under the surface of that heated exchange though, like he was innately drawn to claiming what he wanted for himself, but his level headed manners were still keeping him in check. That wouldn’t do. It wouldn’t do at all. 

You quickly make your choice and bring your hands up to take firm hold of his blocky wrists, making sure he doesn’t try to escape. Not that you actually thought he would when both of you were already in this deep, haltingly moving in tandem against one another, but you didn’t want his polite niceties to get the better of him. He either doesn’t suspect a thing or he simply doesn’t care though, because he just keeps kissing you even when you go up on your tiptoes to make his cock drag down your ass. The height difference makes it a bit awkward, a bit unrefined, but you manage to successfully raise up enough to leave him nudging at the space between your legs. 

And when you come down again, trapping him in the soft squeeze of your thighs, he gasps like you’d just electrocuted him. The sound rattles inside his chest where it’s pressed into your back but, still, he doesn’t fight it. He doesn’t tell you to stop. Rather, he drags his palms lower to grab two big handfuls of your upper legs and press them more tightly together around him. You nearly lose balance and tip over in this unnatural stance but a quick hand slapped against the damp wall steadies you. 

“Careful. If you continue to push this much further …” 

The warning in his voice is clear as day but you don’t really care. Not when you could feel the faint pulse of him between your thighs and he was lined up so perfectly with the seam of your cunt that you could feel your own internal pressure ratcheting up another notch. This wasn’t exactly familiar territory, this pulse pounding excitement that makes you dizzy with a need you don’t fully understand, but the instinctive urge to nudge your hips back and forth feels much too natural for you to truly question it. So you just do it. 

And oh, how you’re rewarded by the simple slide of him along your slit. Hot, blinding sparks flash behind your eyes and you almost swoon right there in his arms, but you know you have to keep moving. Need to chase that pinprick ember of satisfaction just as much as he does, and Dan Heng only reinforces that when he pulls you back to meet the next enthusiastic thrust of his hips. 

A gasp catches in your throat at the wet, meaty smack and lodges there as you tip your face down to look at yourself. Some of your hair slips forward with the motion, wet and clinging, but you hardly even notice it with so much of your attention focused on your own body. Your nudity hadn’t felt so stark before, when you were simply focused on bathing and occupying space with him wherein the two of you just so happened to be naked together. It’s so different now looking at it through the hazy lens of intimacy though, the sight of your tits bare and wet stoking the flames within you to even greater heights. Beyond that, over the soft curve of your stomach and lower still, you can just make out the thatch of hair covering the cradle of your pelvis. And beneath that his cock head nudges out from between your legs, blooming for but a brief moment before retreating back into the tight squeeze. 

It was enough to nearly make your knees buckle and give out. 

“Oohhn,” You hiss into the constant spray, swaying in his hold. “Dan Heng … that feels - -“

“Incredible.” 

You let out a soft moan in agreement, rocking in time with his steady thrusts. The height difference was a good thing, actually. It ensured he stayed pressed up tight against you, constantly knocking your cunt with a fleshy jostle whether he was pulling out or pushing in. It was a continuous cycle of pleasurable shockwaves that quickly leaves you panting just as heavily as he is, and you eagerly writhe against him when the pressure just continues to build and build. You felt like you were going to implode in the most literal sense. What exactly had he done to you? 

Had he even done anything at all, or was this just a natural result of your own needs mingling with his and feeding into one another? You couldn’t be sure. It was impossible to think straight when your cotton stuffed head was starting to spin alarmingly fast, but you decide that it doesn’t really matter either way. The drag of him against your cunt was enough. His possessive grip on your body was enough. There would be time to figure everything out later, after you’d properly taken care of each other, and you let yourself rock back into him with an accompanying groan that subtly rises in pitch at the tail end, basking in the litany of sensations.

“Can I —“ He suddenly blurts, choking on it. His fingers sink into your flesh so hard it starts to hurt and you let out a faint whimper while he struggles to reorient himself. “Can I … touch you?” 

“Nnghn, ah - aren’t you already touching me?” 

“More. I’d like to touch more of you, if you’ll permit it.” 

You screw your eyes shut, trying to focus on your breathing. He certainly wasn’t making it easy. “Ooh … please, please touch me, Dan Heng. I feel … I feel like I’m - -“ 

His hands immediately fly up off your hips and greedily latch onto your breasts instead, lifting the weight of them in his palms. You suck in such a haggard breath you feel like you just might pass out on the spot as you arch against him, throwing your head back into his shoulder. Water from the shower head mercilessly pelts against your face now but you can’t be bothered to lobby any complaints about it when he’s cupping your tits as if they were meant to fit right there in his hold. It’s perfect and sublime, and it just ratchets your own excitement up another notch, making you impotently shudder. 

This pulse pounding feeling of cresting pleasure may have been foreign to you, but you could already see yourself becoming irreversibly addicted to it. Perhaps this was even more dangerous than you’d first realized. 

“Oh! If you do that …” 

“Does it hurt?” 

“I — I don’t know.” 

He noises a faint sound of confusion at your quiet whimper, his hands loosening around your chest. You’re acutely aware of the odd little look he gives you through the swirling steam but can’t quite bring yourself to turn your face away. Whatever this was, whatever it meant in the long run, you wanted more of it. Needed more of him. 

“Don’t stop. Please.” 

A small frown graces his lips. “But you just said - -“

“I know. But I don’t want you to stop.” Carefully, you lift your hand — the one not currently braced against the wall — and cover one set of Dan Heng’s knuckles with your fingers. They seem dainty resting against his like this. “It feels kind of funny but I don’t think it’s bad. I don’t really understand what it means but … I want you to keep doing it. Please?” 

Groaning like you’d just sucker punched him right in the gut, Dan Heng leans further into you until his weight presses you down into a half stooped position. His skin sticks to your back and clings but this too feels good. His body heat bleeds into you, warming you up far more than the shower ever could have, and you eagerly squeeze the muscles in your legs to keep them locked in place. This time when he kneads your breasts it’s much more tentative and slow. He takes his time with it, just savoring the fleshy give, and you keen very softly when he at last nudges one index finger up to brush it over your nipple. 

You can feel yourself sinking deeper into that hazy fog as he starts to move again. The restrained power behind his thrusts sends fresh bursts of static energy coursing through your system, further highlighting the sensitivity of your aching teats as you rock with him, luxuriating in the fleshy drag of his stiff length against your cunt. 

Pap. Pap. Pap. 

He keeps the rhythm slow and even, but so vigorous that it pushes you forward and makes your tits bounce in his hold. You experience everything in stunning high definition from the slick dampness that oozes out of you to smooth the glide of him between your legs right down to the simple sensation of water running across your skin. It’s overwhelming and somehow still not enough. You couldn’t even think straight let alone formulate a semi coherent sentence, your tongue lolling heavily inside your mouth as you shudderingly rear back into him just to feel that delicious friction again. And he takes it in stride, never faltering no matter how wild you get or how hard you shake as the tumultuous waves crest a little bit higher each time. The firm, unyielding planes of his pelvis meeting with your backside, harder, faster. The distant tickle of coarse pubic hair digging into the vulnerably soft flesh of your ass. Even the low, guttural sounds he makes against the side of your face. You were so close to drowning in all of it. 

His thick, callous worn fingers curling up to finally pinch at your nipples is what really sends you over the edge though. The sudden jolt of pleasure so intense it rides the line of being painful almost makes you collapse right then and there, and you throw yourself back into him with mindless desperation. Your hips seem to move on their own even as you cry out for him, judderingly grinding yourself down on that rock hard length pressed up into you. 

“Ooh, Dan Heng!” 

“Please don’t say my name like that.” He quietly wheezes under his breath, still pinching at your breasts. Still pulling and tweaking, using his thumb to brush over them and flick the tightly coiled peaks back and forth. Your body was a livewire just waiting to detonate, and it doesn’t seem to escape his notice. It’s apparent in the way he’s so insistent with his ministrations, encouraging you to keep moving your cunt back and forth, back and forth against him with nothing more than the attention he gives your tits. He takes his time rolling them between the two pads to reward you for your efforts and he gives them a slow, encouraging tug any time your pace falters and you start to slow down. 

It’s a vicious cycle that perfectly feeds into itself a hundred times over and keeps you balanced right on the precipice of some great, harrowing free fall. The world could have come to a sudden, fiery end at that very moment and you never would have noticed. All of your attention, your entire being, was for Dan Heng and only Dan Heng in that moment. His hands, his lips brushing your neck and your cheek when he nuzzles into you. The constant motion of his thighs flexing behind you, driving himself unendingly into the hot, damp spot between your legs. His taller, wider frame trembling against yours with all the pent up tension running through it that so perfectly mirrors your own. 

You’d never felt anything like it before, and a very small voice in the back of your mind wonders if you’ll ever feel it again. Was this a once in a lifetime experience? A fleeting mercurial high that would disappear in a flash bang of white noise the second you tipped over into the awaiting abyss below? 

If that was the case, if you were destined to bask in this dwindling euphoria once and only once in your lifetime, then you were determined to milk every last drop of enjoyment out of it while you could. 

So you drop your hands and reach back, grabbing two biting fistfuls of Dan Heng’s narrow hips. Use the leverage to draw him in against you at a quicker pace, forcing him to snap his pelvis into your backside with greater ferocity. He issues a wounded, faltering grunt into the air but he doesn’t fight it. He hasn’t truly fought anything you’ve offered up to him on a silver platter, not once telling you ‘no’ since you first stepped foot into this bathroom together, and that knowledge sparks a simmering ember deep within your gut. It’s the taste of victory. Of conquest and self assured confidence that can only be achieved through the meeting of two compatible bodies. 

You’re sure of it. Innately, or perhaps intrinsically, you just know that’s what it is. 

“Oh, gods,” He rattles out, gritting through tightly clenched teeth while he fucks himself between your thighs, pistoning in and out of the tight squeeze like a jackhammer. “I’m so close — so close, I - I can’t hold it back anymore.” 

You would’ve voiced your agreement if only you’d had the ability to do so. The breakneck speed at which he ruts into you effectively steals the air from your lungs though and it’s all you can do just to hold on, clutching at his powerfully flexing hips to ground yourself rather than to encourage him. He didn’t need more encouragement anyway. That one little nudge from you was more than enough and now he couldn’t quite seem to remember to be polite and gentle with you. 

The wet smack of his pelvis slamming into your ass is now loud, almost defeaning, and it comes in rapid fire succession to damn near down out even the constant spray of the shower head. It just amplifies the already searing friction against your cunt until it seems to blur into a single, persistent tingle that just grows and grows to the point of delirium. He can’t help himself and neither can you. Not anymore. 

“Dan Heng - -“ 

A truly bestial snarl snakes out of him. His fingers falter, slipping and sliding against your wet teats before adjusting to latch onto the bouncing meat of your breasts instead. What little bit of control he’d still been clinging to dissipates like dust in the wind, and he clings to you so hard it brings tears to your eyes. The demanding press of his fingers sinking into your flesh sends you over the edge with a sudden, lurching jolt as your pussy clenches up and squeezes uncontrollably against his length. Even when you wail out in high strung relief, trembling violently in the throes of your release, he just keeps humping into you like he’d die if he doesn’t chase his own pleasure quickly enough. That continuous drag over your slit just draws out your own involuntary spasms and you can’t help but cry out in oversensitized bliss even as you somewhat awkwardly twist in his arms to look down at yourself. 

Numbly, you watch his flushed glans appear between the fleshy press of your legs, quickly disappear and then immediately reappear again just a split second later. He’s pounding into you so fast and so hard that the resulting shockwaves make your thighs jiggle slightly under the force. It’s incredibly fascinating to witness though and you stare at it in a trancelike stupor, barely even registering the pitchy moan he lets out right against your temple. 

The next time his cock appears it’s with an eruption of creamy white discharge that shoots out to splatter across the floor and the wall, some of it smearing over the skin where the two of you are connected. Hissing like his soul is actively trying to leave his body, Dan Heng haltingly slows to a stiff roll of his hips that makes his length nudge back and forth just enough to drain the rest of his explosive release. Another healthy spurt rushes out of him and then a savory dribble quickly follows, thickly oozing from the tip to drip onto the floor between your feet. It’s over, just like that, and you blink rather owlishly down at the evidence of your illicit encounter as he heaves a deeply satisfied sigh of pleasure. 

It’s a little hard to wrap your mind around what had just transpired, especially when you were still floating in the afterglow and well satiated, but you snap back into the moment when he carefully starts to straighten up. You hadn’t even realized he’d dropped into a partial crouch to better accommodate the height difference, and you turn in his hold to look back at him. 

“Dan Heng … are you - -“

“We need to get out.” He cuts across you, back to being the same mild and polite Dan Heng you were used to, but at the questioning lift of your brows he sheepishly glances away. “The water is beginning to turn cold so we need to get out before you start shivering again. Otherwise that would completely defeat the purpose of doing this in the first place.” 

Oh. You hadn’t even noticed, truth be told, but you shift to the side when he reaches around you to smack the faucet off. The room goes suddenly quiet, save the dull drip of water droplets running from the spout and two sets of deep breaths coming from you and him. You’d been so caught up in the moment that you hadn’t noticed that either but your heart was indeed pounding a wild rhythm against your chest, and you reach up to idly touch over your pulse. Wild and erratic, just like you’d felt leading up to that mind numbing crescendo. 

What the hell had all that been? 

“Let me get you a towel.” You hear him say, and you bring your head up in time to watch him flick the screen open with a sluggish motion. 

“What about you? You didn’t even get to wash your hair.” 

Dan Heng looses a soft bark of laughter as he steps out onto the waiting mat, giving you your first real look at his nude body. He’s all lean and svelte with a perfectly tapered waist and broad shoulders, and — he abruptly turns to face you without warning. You’re suddenly looking right at him. The cut lines of his pelvis and the perfect little bellybutton stamped right in the center of it; the damp mess of dark, dark hair crowning his softened cock and the unmistakable weight of it … 

Blood rushes to your face so fast you feel vaguely faint even as you smack a hand up to your mouth and quickly look away in embarrassment. You’d never seen one before. Or at least, you’re pretty sure you haven’t. That doesn’t exactly stop your body from reacting to it though and your knees turn instantly wobbly again to accompany the instinctive urge to touch him, taste him. To feel him moving inside of you with the same keen ferocity he’d shown your thighs. Gods, you were like some kind of pervert! 

“After all that you’re finally getting shy?” He laughs, bemused, but you can’t quite bring yourself to lift your gaze again. The risk of jumping his bones seemed far too great for you to take that chance right now. But luckily for you, Dan Heng is much too conscientious to hold it over your head and you soon catch the sound of him shuffling for a towel just another moment later. “I’ll cover up if that will make you feel better but don’t think you’re going to get out of this without having a talk with me first. I meant it when I said I had no intention of taking advantage of you. This isn’t something we can just pretend never happened, you know.” 

Cautiously slow, you peek over at him from the corner of your eye just in time to get one last good look at his tight backside before a towel slides into place around his waist. You may not have been able to see it anymore but that certainly wasn’t going to stop you from thinking about it well into the foreseeable future. Curse him and his gorgeous body. “Are you … upset that we did that?” 

“Not at all. I only want to check in with you and find out what you want.” 

Now that manages to throw you for a loop. “What do you mean? I wasn’t expecting anything in return.” 

Sighing softly, Dan Heng pivots back around to face you again. “That’s precisely why. You obviously have no expectations in place and some men would probably try to take advantage of that to use you for sex. I’m not like that though. If you want to do this the right way then I would likewise be amenable to that possibility. If you want to keep things casual that’s fine too. And if you never want to see my face again … well, I couldn’t exactly blame you for that I suppose.” 

Confusion marches rampant through your mind until the lightbulb abruptly clicks on. He was talking about taking responsibility for his actions. Of giving you the proper respect and courtesy of having a choice. Dan Heng clearly had no desire to withhold an actual relationship from you if that was what you wanted but he also wasn’t going to force it on you either. How interesting. How very — chivalrous of him. 

Your heart gives a tiny little thump against your ribcage, and you smile over at him. Eager and pleased by this revelation, but a bit nervous too. Whoever would’ve thought something as benign as sharing a shower together out of necessity would end with talks of a potential future together. 

“Is everyone on the Express as old fashioned as you are?” 

He smiles back, gracing you with a small but no less frustratingly charming grin. “In this aspect, I’m afraid it’s just me. Think you're up for it?” 

“Yeah, I think I might be.” 

⭐

Crossposted: here

#star rail #dan heng #dan heng x reader #self insert bullshit

[iceinwrt]

Me, and my opinion. Last post.

Ok, I am simply amazed that there are comments on whb. Ha. When they were complaining about Levi and his new card, I thought it was because of how childish and silly it had been. I didn't expect them to give him the real P solely because Mc was younger.

So, at some points, with some posts talking about it, I thought I was going to be really rude if I got into an argument, “over nothing”, but now that I'm justified...

1.- We are adults.

And as adults that we are, we don't get to invent, or assume. We resolve ourselves with facts, and with coldness. We do not launch stupid and unverifiable accusations. If we want to point out a fact, you must demonstrate that Leviathan, as a character, is a pedophile.

2.- Do I really have to explain it?

For the people who accuse Leviathan of being a pedophile, where the hell do they get that from? Are they guided only because they wear a uniform? Mc may very well be over the legal age of consent for sexual relations in any country, not only that, Mc's nationality is Korean. In South Korea, they enter college at between 18-19 and finish between 22-23. At no time was it specified that Mc went to high school, or anything like that. Another point, are they really going to discuss the age of Mc when Leviathan biblically exists since the beginning of creation? Really? I don't know if those people will feel better if Mc is at least five thousand years old.

If don't have enough…

Well, let's say Mc was 16-17. You, player, are between 19-30. Do you know what age the game is geared towards? +18 in case we forgot the LITTLE detail. What if they know that Mc is the player's representation? Idk what they want. Especially BECAUSE THEY ARE ADULTS who know how to tell the difference, separate fact from fiction, separate a game from real life. Leviathan is not out there on the loose, looking for 18-23 year old “babes”, my god. And no one who plays the game, is going after a minor just because Leviathan likes the Mc who is probably 20 YEARS OLD. And more, of course. The story is based ON A DREAM, MADE OF MAGIC. Where do they find sense for they to want to complain about it? At this point I am indeed laughing at how absurd it sounds, because that's what it is.

Last but not least.

Okay, let's ignore all of the above. If you don't like the game, because it has certain themes, stop playing, go to Play Store, and look for the thousands of Otome games you like so much. There are millions, even those that touch only a sexual plot. There are hundreds and hundreds of different games for all tastes, but don't ruin the experience for other players just because other people think Leviathan is a pedophile. The game is PB's, and they can do whatever they wants with it as they has always done.

Really is the last.

With this point, it is where we delve into the fact that PB never gently implies when they talk about abuse, nor do they leave it implicit. They never did, they never would, they know the topics they touch on, how they use them and they never romanticize them. We are all aware of when it happens, and we are consistent enough to know that it is wrong, and that we are not going to replicate it in our daily lives, nor idealize as if we were 13 years old.

So, person who thinks they saw the worst of the worst, and you expose it as if no one has three fingers in front to understand it, question it and know it's a game, you're not helping anyone. Those of us in fandom are not idiots to not know what we are consuming. We know what whb is, we are aware of the complicated issues, and no, we are not 14, much less 16, we can think for ourselves and know what is wrong. You don't have to stress what we already know, please. If you want to complain, don't make a pointless war out of the issue, show that you have reading comprehension and do it on a reasoned basis. (Although I don't promise that anyone is going to take any notice of you for it, because no matter what you say, I repeat, we know what we are consuming).

If someone has to send this to one of those who can't even research for a minute, do it. Because it is truly fucked up to be at the expense of a daily absurd complaint.

Clarification.

I am not implying that no one is complaining. In fact, we should understand, learn, and tolerate all opinions, but it's one thing to say that Leviathan is an unprecedented jerk, abuser, and manipulator (and I would totally agree with the point), and quite another to accuse him of seriousness, spread him thin, and have more people, who don't know about the subject, want to play along, to the point that they get to PB.

I knew that whb had the potential to grow

And reach the public, even the wrong audience. But for certain types of people to make such a big deal over a card, especially over something as trivial as the Leviathan card it's absurdly stupid.

My prediction of all this is that Pretty Busy is going to be criticized sooner or later. We accept it, but we know it's not going to come from fandom, because we're not teenagers with attention issues.

It looks like PB is going to have to post more warnings and cautions about its content and the kind of themes they can find in it even within the game itself. I, what I fear the most, is that they will end up censoring it. (Because it's not enough for X and Play to have it labeled as C content.)

#prettybusy what in “hell” is bad? #what in hell is bad #whb #whb leviathan #whb content #I bet my opinion will pass by but it never hurts to state the obvious.

[eksvaized]

Part Twenty [ Previous 〡 Next ] taglist: @kingsprettyangel, @simonsslvt, @herwristsarehercanvas, @the-faceless-bride, @ghostieslove, @bbypionaa if you want to be added - let me know!

A/N: the updates on all my stories are slow because of uni the exam season is killing me >.< but once i'm done with it, i plan on posting more frequently!

You stare at the white ceiling. The light blanket draped over your body feels like a suffocating weight that’s pressing down on you. Yet, you lack the strength or mental energy to peel it away. As you lie there, it’s hard to believe that you’re back in this house, back in this room - your room.

When you first woke up, you had thought you would spend the rest of the day crying. But now, the reality of your return, the fact that you didn’t escape, that you’re back where you started, seems oddly natural. It’s as if you had always been caught in this relentless cycle and the brief moments of freedom were just cruel illusions. Of course, you didn’t escape Simon’s grasp. How could you? And for what reason did you even dare to dream of running, when your fate had already been sealed?

A chilling realisation settles heavily on you: deep within, you always knew that you weren’t going to make it too far away. The thought of escape was nothing more than a tantalising mirage that kept you going.

You sink deeper into the mattress, and your thoughts drift to Johnny, his memory filling the empty spaces of your room. His belongings, once scattered haphazardly here, are now all gone. The lack of his familiar presence, the void where he once existed, suggests that he’s probably been banished as well. Simon knows he can trust his friend. Yet he likely doesn’t want Johnny around you anymore. His presence is too dangerous for you. It sparks rebellious thoughts, ignites dangerous ideas that should have just remained as silly fantasies in your silly little head.

Simon occasionally comes into the room. Each time he appears, he brings you a meal: breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He always places the neatly arranged tray on the nightstand. However, your appetite fails you every time and you never reach for the food. The meals, untouched, grow cold and then Simon, without saying anything, takes it all away.

You had thought that Simon would grow furious with your refusal to eat. Despite his seemingly calm demeanor, you braced yourself for the moment he would finally snap and unleash his pent-up frustration the moment you dared to meet his gaze. You imagined him yelling, maybe even resorting to physical violence, then dragging you to the basement to be shackled and left alone on the lumpy mattress. However, contrary to your expectations, his interactions with you are limited to occasional curt commands. He orders you to eat, to go shower, to change clothes. Sometimes you comply, sometimes not.

Day after day passes, each blending seamlessly into the next. From the confines of your bed, curled up into a tight ball and clutching your pillow, you watch the sunrises paint the sky with hues of pink and orange. A haze of sleep consumes you, pulling you into its depths and then pushing you back to reality, though every time you wake, you still feel an overwhelming sense of fatigue that never seems to lift.

Time becomes a blur, its passage marked only by the changing light outside your window. You can’t tell if only a few days, a long grueling week, or perhaps a full month has passed since Johnny found you in the forest. But the truth is, you don’t really care. What’s the point? What’s the point of caring, of trying, of devising potential escape plans when you feel the hopelessness seeping into your every pore?

There are moments when you catch yourself questioning your own sanity. What if you really do have a delusional disorder? What if you fabricated all those terrifying scenarios about Simon kidnapping you and forcing you to stay with him? Everything seemed to point in that direction. After all, when you mustered the courage to make an escape attempt, his reaction, when you were brought back home, was far from the explosive rage that you had predicted.

Instead of a storm, there was a surprising calmness, an almost passive acceptance that rocked your preconceived notions. His demeanor was mild, oddly gentle, and this discrepancy led you to question the authenticity of your own perceptions. It was as if a mirror was held up to the distortions of your own mind, casting doubts about the reality you thought you knew.

Simon himself was constantly proving to be nothing more than a caring and soothing presence. His actions were always considerate, his words tender and comforting. This gentle behavior conflicted with the image of the captor you had created in your mind, leading to further self-doubt. You found yourself wrestling with your own thoughts, trying to convince yourself that perhaps, just perhaps, you were indeed fabricating all of these disturbing scenarios.

* * *

Simon has reached his breaking point. The relentless sulking, the constant gloom, the oppressive atmosphere that hangs in your bedroom like a shroud - it’s unbearable. Each day is a mirror image of the one before: he’d make his way into your room, anticipation gnawing at him, only to find you in the exact same position in which he had left you, sprawled out on the bed in an almost lifeless manner, neglecting food and water, your gaze fixated on the wall, staring blankly as though you were lost in a world far beyond anyone’s reach.

So, on one evening, Simon decides to take matters into his own hands. He isn’t going to stand by and watch any longer. He is going to do something, anything, to bring back the light that once twinkled in your eyes.

Simon enters your room, cradling a bottle of what appears to be an extremely expensive bourbon, its golden liquid glinting under the soft evening light. His brows are furrowed in determination, a silent testament to his resolve.

He carefully places the bottle on the nightstand, accompanied by two gleaming glasses. “We are going to drink,” he declares, but you don’t say anything. You raise your chin up and just stare at him. Your gaze empty.

He studies you, his eyes shimmering with a complex cocktail of concern and firm resolution, before he reaches out for your hand. With a gentle yet firm tug, he pulls you out of the bed, making you stand. As you do, your gaze falls upon your own reflection in the mirror that hangs on the wall. You stumble, taken aback by your appearance.

You are still clad in the same clothes you had on when you left the house. The fabric is uncomfortably sticking to your skin, chaffing at the edges. This realization sparks a sudden urge within you to shed it all off. However, you remain frozen because you aren’t alone in the room.

Simon approaches you once more, this time presenting you with a fresh set of underwear, a fluffy white towel, and a pair of shorts along with a shirt.

“Go shower,” he instructs in a tone that brooks no argument. Although a part of you, the part that’s grown comfortable with the cocoon of sadness, wants to shake your head in refusal and retreat back to the bed, you decide that a quick shower wouldn’t do any harm. It might even serve as a much-needed break from the tumult within.

As you make your tentative way out of the room, you catch a fleeting glimpse of Simon’s silhouette against the window, managing to open it despite the lack of a handle. Once the window is cracked, inviting a breath of fresh, untainted air in, he proceeds to methodically peel off all the sheets from your bed, preparing it anew.

You spend a while standing under the scalding hot water. The warmth washes over you, blanketing you in a comforting heat that seems to momentarily suspend the world outside. The luxurious, expensive, fruity smelling gels that Simon has purchased for you are ignored, lined up against the wall of the shower. You simply don’t have the energy to slather your skin with them. However, you make a conscious effort to untangle the knots in your hair, running your fingers through the strands repetitively.

When you come back into the bedroom, Simon is sitting on the bed. Your bed is adorned with crisp, clean sheets, and on the nightstand, next to the bottle and two glasses, there’s a bowl with some steaming hot soup. The aroma wafts through the room.

“You can’t drink on an empty stomach,” he says in a tone that suggests he’s more stating a fact than offering an opinion. If you had the energy, you would no doubt argue with him, insisting that you have no intention of drinking or eating. But instead, you only manage to sit down next to him, the exhaustion preventing any form of protest.

When you make no move to reach for the bowl, Simon takes the initiative. He cradles the dish in his hands and begins to feed you. You allow him to. When a stray droplet of soup trickles down the corner of your mouth, he gently wipes your chin with his thumb, an act that is both comforting and strangely intimate.

There’s a part of you that wants to ask why he’s being so patient, so considerate with you. In fact, myriad questions are swirling in your foggy head, each one demanding an answer. But the haze clouding your mind is so thick, so dense, that formulating even a single coherent sentence feels like scaling a mountain.

Simon insists you finish the entire bowl of soup, meticulously ensuring that not a drop is left before he finally puts it away. As he proceeds to unseal the bottle that has been sitting on the nightstand, you find your eyes inadvertently drawn to his hands, noticing the rough, hardened callouses that adorn his fingers.

“Drink,” another command slips past his lips and he passes you a glass filled to the brim.

You gaze tentatively at the glass. The liquid inside shimmers under the soft glow of the room’s light. You hesitate. You don’t want to drink. However, you know that Simon, with his stubborn persistence, won’t back off or leave you alone until you do. So, with a heavy sigh, you bring the glass to your lips and take the first, small sip, instantly feeling the harsh sting of alcohol as it trickles down your throat, searing every inch it touches.

You hope that after the glass is finished, the alcohol will make you drowsy, lulling you into a deep slumber. After all, it seems that’s all you seem to do these days. Sleep.

However, when your glass finally drains, reaching its anticipated emptiness, instead of the expected heaviness or sense of dread, your eyes unexpectedly widen, and you find yourself becoming more alert. After enduring days of feeling emotionally numb, hollow inside, akin to an empty shell thoughtlessly discarded on a deserted, lonely beach, you feel an unfamiliar warmth spreading gradually throughout your body. This sensation is new, yet not unwelcome.

And then, when Simon, seemingly satisfied with your compliance and perhaps even relieved, nonchalantly turns on the TV, randomly selecting some film to fill the room with some background noise, you find yourself giggling as you watch the screen.

You don’t know why you are laughing or why you keep extending your arm towards Simon, wiggling your glass every time it empties, but you do.

Simon, with a careful vigilance, keeps an eye on you from the periphery of his vision. Matching your pace, he drinks as much as you, if not slightly more, but he is not nearly as drunk as you. Just a bit tipsy. He knows that getting drunk with you is far from the wisest decision he could make. But he quiets his mind, trying to convince himself that you won’t do anything reckless. After all, the bottle was only uncorked after he was fully convinced that you had no intentions of trying to run away again.

After Johnny brought you back, Simon was relieved. Ecstatic, actually. The thought of you, alone in the dark, lost and frightened, was a horrifying prospect that had Simon on the brink of tearing his hair out in sheer anxiety. It felt like a thousand icy needles were piercing his heart. In fact, the notion of you in danger was so excruciating, it made him want to raze the entire forest to the ground until he found you.

He had initially steeled himself, preparing to unleash a storm of admonishment, to let you taste the bitter regret of your impulsive decision to venture outside the safety of the house. After persuading Johnny to leave, under the guise that your condition had worsened, and you needed to recover in a safe environment devoid of any agitation, he stationed himself in your room, sitting by your bedside, watching over you, waiting for your eyes to flutter open so he could mete out the punishment he believed you deserved.

But when you woke up, something was amiss. Simon immediately noticed it. At first, he thought you were simply sad, but there were no tears to confirm his suspicion. No other emotions were evident on your face, either. The vacant stare you wore, the long, empty days you spent lying in bed, refusing to eat, and merely gazing aimlessly out of the window, filled him with an unsettling, gnawing fear. He longed for some kind of reaction from you, any indication that the person he knew was still there, beneath the facade of emptiness. He reasoned that perhaps you needed time to process everything, so he gave you space. Yet, even that didn’t seem to help.

During the times when his emotions would threaten to consume him, when his mind would be bursting at its seams with a relentless onslaught of thoughts, or when he felt the crushing, suffocating emptiness that seemed to envelop him, as though the bullet that had merely grazed him had instead ended his life, he would seek solace in the comforting burn of the most expensive bourbon he could find in the store. He would drink until his mind was blissfully quiet, until he lost consciousness, in the hopes that the morning would bring relief, and the horrors of the previous day would feel like a distant, unpleasant dream from which he had finally awoken.

“Hello? Earth to Simon,” you call out, playfully nudging his shoulder with the tip of your index finger. A lazy smile plays on the corners of your lips. “Are you falling asleep on me—yes, yes, you are!” you exclaim, your laughter bubbling up from deep within your chest. The sound of your giggles fills the room. You sink deeper into the bed and finish the last of your liquor. “You are such a lightweight,” you tease, your voice slightly slurred from the alcohol. Unexpectedly, a hiccup slips past your lips, causing your giggles to escalate into full-blown laughter.

Simon raises his eyebrows. His eyes twinkle with mild amusement and a hint of disbelief. His gaze is fixed on you. It takes him a moment to register your words, but then he shakes his head and smiles. Genuinely, smiles. A feeble grin spreads across his face, accompanied by the gentle crinkling of his eyes at the corners. 

#simon riley x you #writing #simon ghost riley #ghost x y/n #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #call of duty #ghost x you #ghost cod #cod #ghost call of duty #cod ghost #fem!reader

[mischiefbuckley]

today’s thoughts are consumed by thinking about Oliver’s interview on the Zack Sang show. Very good interview overall Zack always does a fantastic job researching and asking good questions to his guests like me also being a One Direction and 5SOS fan I do enjoy the Louis interview and the 5SOS ones as well and even Niall has done a few in the past and now recently Luke had one talking about his second solo album

Anyways back to Oliver… love all the commentary on his part regarding the show and his view on Buck coming to terms with his sexuality in his 30s and how he viewed that himself when approached with the storyline and how he was very happy with the direction his character arc was taking. As I’ve mentioned before I did barely become obsessed with 911 in the span of a month now with yk seeing the trending storyline of Buck coming out as bisexual and seeing the positive response from the fans. Again what made me want to see the show was the Instagram story that Oliver posted concerning some of the negative feedback that was given and I do like how that was mentioned in the interview. I do appreciate how positive Oliver has been about the whole process and it’s very refreshing to see an actor be so devoted and dedicated to an amazing storyline about giving representation to a character and standing by it and all of the other queer representation in that has always been present in the show since the beginning.

also oliver saying he brings a cheekiness to buck that no one else can like yes completely agree 🫶🏻

and then the mention of the tsunami episode had me laughing cause yeah first watch those episodes had me balling my eyes out so him mentioning that people won’t visit the Santa Monica pier because of the episodes was very funny to me

and him mentioning coming to visit Portland because of the vegan options like yes come visit please 🙏🏻 (I live in the middle of nowhere Washington but I’ll make my way over if he ever goes lmao)

lol and the buddie mention at the end of the interview made my night when I watched that I was screaming but also Oliver I wanna hear your ideas my guy

#more of steph’s random thoughts #oliver stark #oliver stark interviews #oliver stark interview #evan buckley #evan buck buckley #911 abc #911 on abc #911 season 7 #911 s7 #911 show #buddie

[admirxation]

˗ˏˋ admirxation's weekly fic recs ´ˎ˗

!! dark content ahead, please read the warnings the authors have provided, and then continue at your own discretion !!

5th may '24: here are some fics i've collected this week, obviously this is not every single fic but i wanted to give some more spotlight on the ones that literally had me bouncing off the walls lmao. if anyone wants to see more recommendations i have a 'admirxation fic recs' tag if you're ever wanting to read something, and i want to try and do this every Sunday to give some love to creators. i will try to limit this to 10-20, and some weeks might be shorter cuz i don't always have to time. thank you to these creators making these fics and please give them some love

resident evil fics

“If I gotta sin to see her again then I’m gonna lie.” [NSFW] {dad’s boss!Jack Krauser x fem!reader} ~ The reader ends up on their knees for the stranger allowed in their house; starting a fling with her fathers boss.

this was written by @mrswint3rs now i read this a bit ago but i just can’t forget about it. i love krauser content so much like there needs to be more content for this man, i love my pookie leon a feral amount but pookie bear needs to share some spotlight for the other RE guys. i am not embarrassed to admit that i keep rereading this fic, it does something to the brain chemistry. honestly the moment this girl posts more krauser fics im leaping like it’s my last meal cuz AHHHHHHH. the forceful but seductive characterisation that is written within krauser is so memorable and had me blushing and kicking my feet, and to expose myself further the secrecy tropes always get the meter going they are my guilty pleasure.

playing house [NSFW] {stepdad!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader} ~ the readers mother had passed away, leaving Leon and the reader to get closer.

this was written by @miss-oranje-disco-dancer now i always thought i wasn’t into the whole ddlg scene, before anyone things im hating i never gave hate to the concept i was just never apart of the craze if u get me, however, this fic has made me rlly rlly crave ddlg content to the point i’m wondering if the writer laced their words with crack cuz IM SO HOOKED. the gradual progression of the reader and leon is so hot, especially *spoilers for the rest of the fic* when they start sharing a bed dude the tingles i felt, and then the breeding when the reader acts so nonchalant about being bred by leon like YESSIR I NEED THIS MORE THAN ANYTHING.

Playground Love {older!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader} ~ age gap love between reader and Leon.

this was written by @j3llyd0nut . i might have a problem which how much older men fanfics i consume, like gurl its becoming a big problem… that i dont wanna fix oop- this fic doesn’t go into smut (ik what a shocker for me to be recommending something that is straight up porn lmao) but it does deal with age gaps, and i felt the way the writer portrayed it was so well written, especially with the readers’ mothers feelings to it. dating someone older comes with a mix of feelings, the envy was well encapsulated as well as the worry where it is often people try to warn. also the ending quote was such a killer (as an oscar wilde fan hehe… im an english student i love a reference).

Nerd Leon [NSFW] {nerdy!Leon Kennedy x nerdy!fem!reader} ~ Leon and the reader are both virgins who have had a crush on one another.

this was written by @nvoirs (it won’t let me tag them but you have the link to go show them some love). i love lil nerdy leon, he's so cute, especially with the pictures above the fic hehe. honestly the reader is so relatable, the idea of someone asking you out as a joke hahah ive been there too many times, no one can force me back into high school i will claw them. i quite liked the dynamic of them learning together, hehehe it's so so hot and cute at the same time and it deserves so much more love in my humble and very correct opinion.

the last of us fics

older Joel Miller [NSFW] {older!Joel Miller x afab!reader} ~ ft nervous Joel who hasn’t dated in a while and nervous to be with the reader who reassures she wants to be with him.

this was written by @pedroshotwifey and omfg i’m like the biggest simp for joel to the point it’s honestly embarrassing lmao, i feel like they wrote joel quite well and i would imagine if he was to become involved with someone again he would be nervous and be in his head about it; i found the writing of the transition back into sharing physical intimacy really well written and enjoyable, it’s not easy to do that but the author did it so well. my fav joel oneshot.

jujutsu kaisen fics

A proper send off [NSFW] {stepdad!Toji Fushiguro x fem!reader} ~ Toji puts his claim on the reader before she goes to college

this was written by @bratbby333. i feel like i died, like the author put the words on the screen and it make me curl up in a ball and squirming cuz i need toji biblically, and then i died, and then the words brought be back to heaven and then i was bonked and put into horny jail. i’m actually feral for this man. i’m feral for too many fictional men but toji is ughhhhh AHFJFKDKSKSKDDKEKSKW. i loved the descriptions of the reader almost being made for him, or more accurately, Toji making the reader made for him; the description of *SPOILERS* him moulding her pussy for his dick was YUM YUM YUM YUM YUM, i was salivating like fucking homer simpson I NEED IT.

Daddy Issues [NSFW] {stepdad!Toji Fushiguro x fem!reader} ~ reader is a brat whose stopped by her step father Toji

this was written by @nexysworld and my oh my does this girl cook, I AM THE BIGGEST NEXY FAN EVER HEHEHEHEHE. i am a new recruit to the toji fan club and boy oh boy was this the most exciting oneshot to first read after finding my love for this beautiful man. I gotta say the way nexy writes toji is honestly a game changer. like he’s such a jerk that u wanna slap, but i also am enticed by how much of a jerk he is… and perhaps wanna be slapped by him- WHO SAID THAT 👀 damn.

“well, we should probably fuck. Right?” [NSFW] {satoru gojo x fem!reader} ~ reader and gojo are trapped in the prison realm with nothing else to do.

this was written by @kingkonoha. now as we have all learnt about me liking something normally isn’t in my vocabulary; if i like a piece of media best believe im putting my whole soul into it. jjk is a new edition to my fandom endeavours and heheh gojo is my first love, im such a gojo girlie IF ANYONE COMES TO DETROY MY PEACE F OFF LMAO (gojo and toji girlie fr i am). okay if you’re a gojo girlie, kingkonoha’s writing is top tier. i loved the way they encapsulated gojo’s personality, he’s so cocky in this oneshot and ugh i just can’t help but see it so on brand for gojo; also the dirty talk in this fic is like toe curling afhdisosfheisidfhwowjwf I NEED HIM IN A WAY THAT IS CONCERNING TO FEMINISM.

The fanboy guide [NSFW] {satoru gojo x fem!reader} ~ gojo is the readers number one fan and manages to finally meet them in a meet and greet.

this was written by @kingkonoha . i love obsessing over fictional men BUT OH THIS FIC RLLY HAD THE TURNED TABLES. look i dont need anyone judging my likes, i like the idea of someone, especially gojo, obsessing over me and telling me he loves me while i ride him. girlhood = hearing i love you while riding gojo lmao. i love this creator to the point they’re probably fed up on me constantly liking their stuff haha. some bits i wanna point out, the dirty talk was like A* and the way he’s obsessed and basically babbles i love u like AFHFJSWISODODOWKWNEJ this has a chokehold on me and is like feral spray for the gojo girlies to get going lmao.

Tease [NSFW] {satoru gojo x fem!reader} ~ reader teases her sensei over text, and he later shows up at the readers door.

this was written by @dark-and-kawaii . oh look more gojo fics, are we surprised, no rlly cuz he's so hot and ugh i need him so much. i love dirty talk especially sexting it's so hot, but the fact he literally shows up at the door? i was shook but like in a horny way lmao. honestly the jealousy he feels it’s like kinda embarrassing how much i love to imagine someone all jealous over me like hehe tell me how much im in ur mind rent free HAHA. honestly i love this blog, i followed for the bg3 content and stayed for like the absolute talent in every one of their works, so much love <3

i will possess your heart [NSFW] {yandere!satoru gojo x fem!reader} ~ satoru thinks the reader belongs to him and will go any length to make that happen.

this was written by @bratbby333 . okay on this account we love a yandere, the idea of someone being so obsessed that it’s a danger to the lover, themselves and everyone around, A MUST!!!! honestly, it’s kinda baddddd how much i love these yandere oneshots but oh well it’s not like im gonna stop eating this up when everyone fr cooks. i honestly have to say this is the best yandere fic ive seen, like i was fangirling over the author over every word and punctuation they strung together, like huhhhhh it had me on a chokehold throughout it all. the journey of obsession and how far gojo went and his pathway to that was so well written, and the scene with the ex boyfriend and the heart ?!?!?!?! i was literally wide eyed like an owl going “WHAT OMFG”.

to be ex husband [NSFW] {satoru gojo x fem!reader} ~ ex bf gojo comes back in readers life and asks for a hand in marriage.

this was written by @arminsumi . lmao this fic made me have so many emotions. first of all, SHOKO MY BELOVED IS MY BESTIE I LOVE SHOKO. but the idea of gojo being an ex cuz he was a play boy i was like hmmm f u man, breaking my heart (like bruh i was so offended like i actually was the reader to the point i was like bruh i have to calm down) and then after when he’s getting all giggly with suguru im like hehehehe let the fucking commence i need me some gojo action. honestly this fic has an amazing balance of oooo this is sexy, to feelings of being a lil mad, but also comedic moments. it honestly encaptures gojo’s character so well, i was rlly impressed. also i didn’t know how much i needed someone to ask for marriage while fucking ahe

#admirxations weekly fic recs #admirxation fic recs #divider by cafekitsune #fic recs #x reader fics #5th may '24

[grotesquelly]

Dad Roy Harper that’s an ex punk, who teaches Lian how to be safe in the scene, and had the shittiest spiked mullet when he was a teen, and has the most insane stories, and saw your favorite bands when they were still alive or still performing mfjd

#roy harper #based on my dad except he was grunge not punk #he saw the original members of Kittie in concert #you’re joking me right #dc #dc comics #lian harper #it’s been consuming my thoughts i had to post about it

[deductivisms]

having distanced myself from "fandom" spaces -- and really art-centered communities as a whole -- it really is strange to me how there's this perception that posting content automatically means that you're trying to grow an audience / want to become something like an influencer

i'm not trying to make a "living" off of being a content creator so it's not really important to me whether or not a piece gets a lot of visibility or not - i'm just drawing and posting what i like and if other people happen to like it or see it that's a nice bonus!! but i think personally i've kind of checked out of the idea of being an Artist On The Internet

i also just don't like the culture surrounding online art-centered spaces because it caused me to develop a very weird relationship with my work; i wasn't drawing to improve or because i wanted to, i was basically burning myself out trying to get "just good enough" to where people wouldn't judge me anymore for being "bad" which was like ?!?#?#?@#

it's nice to be treated not as someone's "art [sns] mutual" but as just a friend who may also happen to draw and that's why i've felt a lot more comfortable with the people i'm surrounded by now vs previously, where it always felt like my art was a factor into whether or not i was even given baseline respect nod nod

#memo #jus thoughts in th brain #also i've been around people who talk down about others who 'haven't grown at all' as far as sns presence #and while some people do want to build communities or whatever not everyone is gunning to have a 'fanbase' #so it felt kind of ??? when that was used as a jab #and some may accuse me of just saying this bc i've never had much Internet Clout or whatever so it's just copium but like #being a content creator is whatever .. again if people find and like my work that's cool #if they don't then it's okay #ive grown to just be proud of the fact that i'm making anything at all #and i think it's fine to post artwork or fics or literally anything just to post it !! #not everything is for a consumer

[commsroom]

i know it’s a popular idea, but i don’t think i can ever really be on board with the idea of lovelace having some big post-canon revenge tour. like, i can appreciate the catharsis of a good revenge narrative in other contexts, don’t get me wrong, but given the themes of wolf 359 as a show, and particularly the values lovelace expresses in her own character arc, i can’t see it as anything other than a tragic regression into the exact type of person she chose not to become.

“the whole epic rampage of revenge thing? isabel lovelace wouldn't do that. the terrible wretch that you people made isabel lovelace into? oh, she'd do that. but... i’m not going to be that person anymore. i’m going to be isabel lovelace again. even if i never have before.”

twice near the end of s3 hilbert calls lovelace isabel, sees in her some shared experience and reflection of himself and his willingness to do whatever it takes, by any means necessary, but he fails to realize that what he recognizes is the result of trauma inflicted on her largely by him. hilbert is a constant reminder of what lovelace has lost and what’s been done to her, and in some sick way that makes him the last link to her past. they both die, and she comes back, and he doesn’t, and she decides to be isabel lovelace again. i don’t think that’s a coincidence.

wolf 359 as a show seems to believe in the futility of revenge - all of dirty work, “and then what? who pays for this? who owns up for this murder? and for the one after this one?” - and places its faith instead in the power of individuals to break cycles of violence and abuse. and i think that’s relevant to the wording of lovelace’s final lines in the show: “look up some old friends, take apart goddard futuristics brick by brick... maybe go to disneyland? but first, i’m going to take a long vacation, somewhere warm and quiet, where nobody has any idea who i am.”

lovelace feels a sense of duty in dismantling goddard and holding them to account, but it’s a world away from the all-consuming ire and drive for revenge “run and hide” contained. i think that’s where the focus should be. it’s not about hurting the people who hurt her, not anymore. it’s about preventing them from hurting anyone else. it’s a final act of love and closure for the people she couldn’t save, to say: i’m still here. i remember you. i’ll make sure your families know the truth. i’ll make sure they never hurt anyone else, ever again. i can’t bring you back, but your deaths won’t be in vain.

i think it’s important to emphasize that lovelace is NOT a violent person. she doesn’t want to be. she doesn’t enjoy it. whatever she may have been driven to by fear and trauma and desperation, she chooses to be isabel lovelace, and that’s not the person isabel lovelace is. i hope she does help take goddard down. structurally. brick by brick. and then i hope she lives a good, peaceful, happy life, in the memory of all her loved ones who couldn’t. like minkowski in boléro: “so that we never forget how important it is that we're still here.”

#wolf 359 #w359 #isabel lovelace #i hope this doesn't seem confrontational at all it's just. #something that's been on my mind for a long time #i have some other tangential thoughts that i might get into later about. revenge in wolf 359 and how the alternative to that #isn't exactly forgiveness #it's about. healing it's about choosing to end cycles of violence and trauma and saying. i won't let you hurt anyone else #and i won't enact hurt. no matter how much i want to or how much you may deserve it. because taking away the power to do hurt #matters more than retribution #and that does kind of tie in to wolf's overall stance on rehabilitative justice #and it's very human. that someone can be an irredeemable monster to one person and someone else's best friend #obviously to differing degrees of severity but. there's something to it. #i do think jacobi and lovelace could potentially parallel each other in a post-canon scenario but it's because they've both #been in that place of all-consuming desire for retribution and had to step back from it. in their own ways. #and they're kind of the outsiders in a way because they've both lost Their people. lovelace is closer to the others than jacobi by FAR but. #it's not the same. #also re: clones in wolf 359 and how they're on opposite sides of that. experience. #the tiamat logs suggest maybe each clone is a little bit different in subtle ways but i think it's worth considering that maybe #they are identical at the moment of creation and the 'differences' the aspects of them that are amplified are a result of #minute differences in their experiences and ways they're treated from that point forward #but that the potential for all of those things was the same in each of them #there's also something about the use of names in wolf 359 #especially how often Full Names are used as a way to assert identity #to say #no matter who you become. what version of yourself you cultivate. you are still Yourself and no one can take that away. #it's a choice. and there's something powerful in that. #anyway. getting away from myself here.

[yourlocalsewerdragon]

being a freshman in highschool is so crazy

#im gonna disappear AGAIN after this but i thought it would be funny to make a post for the hell of it #im way too busy to be consistently active on tumblr. ballet has consumed me #so anyways yeah im a freshman in highschool now lol #and im freshman council president too #hashtag stem #speaking of stem im like seriously SERIOUSLY considering taking biomedical science as a course in college and i wanna go to the UK #anyways ive mainly just been preparing for this HUUGE ballet competition soo a lot has been on my plate #and i havent been watching a lot of anime...but i did finish season 5 of mlb and the movie #the movie was great. season 5 was season 5 #but i watched like 3/4 of the ghibli movies during the summer and it healed me #ive been doing a lot of self reflection lately which is so crazy. and i think about like. everyone all the mutuals at least once a week. #everyone ive met on this godforsaken site genuinely shaped me as a person so much and the time i had here was so wild. #ig thats why it feels to weird to just permanently leave it all behind #i will never deactivate this acc and ill never stop coming back to this hellsite but ill never be that 12 yr old again #dragon's trash

[anneapocalypse]

Lately the funniest thing is that I get the weirdest comments on posts about characters I'm not even like. hardcore about.

#people have been so nice on my sera posts #i mean i suppose it's only a matter of time but like #they really have been nice! #then i make like. one post about a character i find passingly interesting but doesn't consume me #like i am not an Isolde Stan lol #despite appearances i guess! #also not a Cullen Stan just had Some Thoughts one time #and those post just brought people out of the woodwork #wild. #dragon age problems #fandom problems

[currentlyonstandbi]

#look this was probably the most experimental post i've ever done considering i had to make the newspaper article from scratch #and to be entirely honest i uuuh im not happy with it lmao #i should've done an obituary instead of the article but too late ! i have no energy to start again #but whatever .the point is that the article is supposed to allude to alex's death okay so yes obituary would've worked better but too bad #idk i think i just had a massive brain blegh halfway through which sucks because i was thinking about this post all day #but the idea behind the whole concept and the QUOTE in the first place and the stupid article concept #was the idea that nigel wasn't the only one to kill himself at the end of the film #alex did too . just not in the literal sense #alex kills the old version of himself . kills the who he used to be #this did not do that quote or the intention behind the post justice but i'm just gonna dump it here and go #also deep in tags is the best place for me to put the random shit i'm thinking of and i've had the trainyard scene on my mind lately #but i left my thoughts to simmer too long and now it's been reduced into thickness 😞 but anyway #greg may have been too much of a coward to give them the maraclea ending they deserved #but he will never be able to take away the fact that the trainyard scene will always be their version of the myth TO ME and me only probs #okay because that story is supposed to parallel the typical conventions of marriage - the consumation when he lays with the body #and then 9 months later the skull symbolises a birth resulting from their union #that moment at the railway ? where nigel shoots himself with the very gun alex is holding? #that's their consumation babes; their union; their wedding #'pray for me pray for yourself we're one now' may as well be their vows #and what do we get as a result of that union 9 months later? we get jack #jack is the product of these 2 people becoming 1 and just like the skull granted great power to the lord #so too does jack grant power to alex; the power to take control of his life and forge his own path forward #me making this post 🤝 cats : oooooo big stretch #seriously #lowkey glad no one will see this in the tag search lmao #like minds

[pxrxmoore]

out of the depths of fuckin nowhere while running a fever last night my torchwood obsession was re-awakened within me. and also apparently livejournal still exists and people still post there???????

#i cannot even describe to u the depths in which torchwood controlled my life at one point #i was like 13/14 and it consumed my every waking thought #i would incorporate it into any piece of work i had to do at school #me and my close friend bonded over it and became inseparable #we were Known in class to be fuckin weirdos about it SCREAM #our Teachers knew bc we would fuckin talk/write about it all the time #anyway at 2am last night i realised i still had every ep title of season 2 memorised in chronological order 👍 #and when i googled it just now to see if it rly was that ingrained in me #the first suggestion that came up in chrome search bar was a link to fanfic on live journal 😭😭😭 #and ppl posted on their like literally yesterday #help #send fuckin help im gonna fall back into this fandom so fucking hard again #brb finding all the old fics i have bookmarked and re-reading them #no don’t look at the 80+ tabs i have open of unread buddie fic that’s been there for months stop it don’t perceive me #bp

[soultoken-archived]

american comics are wild, man.

#𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐲.「 out of character. 」 #hope you're ready for me to ramble in tags because OOOH BOY. i'm waving at my comics academy diploma. #of course let me start by saying that i don't mean it for every single american comic. i'm not here to generalize and lemme tell ya #some italian comics sometimes tend to do the same of what i'm about to ramble about. staring at some dylan dog comics i have. #but sadly it's also a thing that happens a lot in mainstream american comics (meaning marvel and dc) and that i even studied #and it's called ✨BODY PROPORTIONS✨ and how they are absolutely butchered to make a cool panel or just. ignored because BUFF 'EM #i'm specifically talking about a deadpool comic at the moment because that's what i was reading #and i swear that deadpool's proportions kept changing panel to panel. not to mention his body was 'perfected'? like #yes he keeps regenerating but he's supposed to have a body consumed by cancer. why does he look like hulk then. #and it's not only marvel doing this - once again i'm staring at dc and at my biggest problem with constantine's comics #which is that they have hinted (actually more than that) to his eating disorders - not to mention alcoholism and general lack of self care #and he's also a sorcerer and supposedly the anti-hero which is not super muscolar and has no incredible physical strength #yet how many freaking comics i've seen of him where he's just. SO buff. his body super perfect. WHY. #at the same time though so many people draw comics to put them out as fast as possible that i can see why they just *draw it* #and have no particular references for each other so when they're asking you to draw a thing fast you tend to draw what usually works #that's a whole other discourse that i even had experience of during academy. might make an actual post for that actually #because i've been thinking a LOT and throwing thoughts out might be interesting. BUT STILL. PROPORTIONS. #not to mention the choice of the frame to make panels look cool but you just *can't get what the bloody hell you're looking at* #three years i've spent in an academy learning what NOT to do when making comics and then i read these that do exactly all of the do not's

[boygirlctommy]

naurrr i clicked out of ep 102 and accidentally opened the tab that has ep 1 open ToT GODDD I MISS THE SIMPLE TIMES

#my post #ripposting #caps #I MEAN I DO AND I DONT #I LOVE THEIR CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT ITS ACTUALLY SO WELL DONE AND AMAZING #BUT ALSO I MISS WHEN THE BIG BATTLE OF THE EPISODE WAS. BEETLES. #OR LIKE THE BALD GUYS!!! #EVEN IN THE CASINO THAT WAS MPSTLY JUST FUN AND GAMES. LIKE THEY THOUGHT THEY WERE GONNA DIE FOR A MINUTE IN THE BIG GAME BUT THEY WERE FIN #im just nervous 👍 #dorry it really is mostly the thumbnailf or 103 that scares me but tbf it is gills decaying corpse so i feel like thats normal to be nervou #about. also the fact that chip feels like gill specifically is gonna die? and i know 103 opens w jort storm which yes somehow adds to the #tension. also the SECOND they entered the black sea they got attacked by a ton of evil goopy guys im sinply not excited im simply terrified #AND LIKE. IF THEY GET TO ARLIN. WELL WHAT THEN!!! #DO THEY REALLY FREE HIM? BCUS THATS WHNE NIKLAUS OUR BUDDY NIKLAUS CALLS IN HIS FAVOR!!! #AND ITLL BE BAD I KNOW IT WILL AUGGHHHHHHHHH #and like. what if freeing arlin allows the nameless prince to enter mana and consume it. if it hasnt already been consuming. what if niklau #IS the nameless prince. what if it releases the unborn kings. what if arlins made a deal and hes ALSO goop and they have to kill him like #arlin finn and drey had to w captain rose! what if a thousand horrible things happen. #anyways yeag. nervouse

[chuluoyi]

LOVER'S QUARREL

- fushiguro megumi x reader

“i can't do this anymore.” you and megumi are just too different; he's stoic, you're bubbly, he prefers solitude, you love being social. it starts with fights, words you don't mean, and ends with an event that would haunt him for a long time to come.

genre: angst, breaking up, post-breakup feelings, mentions and description of injury and blood, hurt/comfort, fluff in the end (you make up!)

note: dear god i’m finally getting this out of my drafts. loosely inspired by real life events i’ve seen around my friend’s relationship sooo it might hurt a bit 🤏🏻 but who can say no to angst to eventual fluff? tagging @lees-chaotic-brain and @kasumitenbaz (as per request in the ask!), you two are always here for my megumi works, thank you!! :3 and thank you for dropping by for the event!

a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

Everyone pointed it out as a joke, that you liked him way more than he did you.

And you used to never let it ruffle you. To you, Megumi’s sternness and silence meant that he was comfortable with you. You never wanted him to change his ways just because now you were seeing each other.

But when you thought it over now, as you stood before him with an aghast expression and knives stabbing your kind, soft heart, you couldn’t help but do a double-take.

You were the one who confessed first. Most of the time, you were the one who initiated dates. You always texted him first, asking about his day, and even when he brushed you off, you would keep being this ball of sunshine and wished him a good day.

You never realized it before… that through everything, it has always been you. Unfailingly.

So how dare he spout this now?

“I can't do this anymore.”

"You... can't?" you spat out, feeling the first tendrils of anger course through you. "What exactly it is that you can't do? What do you even mean?"

"Look," Megumi stared at you squarely, and you thought now, that it was the coldest of eyes, straight and true. "It's always been like this between us lately. It's only right that we end this."

This, he said. He didn't even want to define your relationship anymore.

You scoffed. "And why do you think we always end up this way? Have you ever considered, even once, that it's because you make no effort at all?"

"I'm trying," Megumi quickly replied, almost in a hiss, and you almost recoiled. "But I just see that we'll end up nowhere, that's why I'm bringing this up now."

Oh, that freaking hurts. You boyfriend had just told you that this relationship would go nowhere. Right in your face.

Your eyes stung with tears, yet you fought to hold them back, fixing your gaze on the lamp overhead and inhaling deeply.

"You're... selfish," you stated, filled with ire. "You're always walking around eggshells around me, never telling me what is it that you really want—"

Megumi's unclouded eyes fixed on your trembling form. "We just disagree on a lot of things. You know it and it bothers you. It bothers me too. Rather than forcing our relationship, I think it's better—"

"It's always me!" you yelled then, lips quivering and eyes watering, unable to hold your emotions back any longer. "All dates, lunches—everything!" you locked your eyes with him, in mocking disbelief. "How can you say you're trying when, in truth, I'm the one putting in so much for us?!"

In that very second, Megumi thought that he hated seeing you like this. You were supposed to be the cheerful one in this relationship, and when he agreed to go out with you, he made an unspoken commitment to himself that he would at least not make you miserable.

And yet...

"...I'm sorry."

Came his reply, and you were sure that this was it.

And to rub the salt in your wound, he added, "I can't lie to you and say I haven't thought this for a while too."

As tears welled within you, you wondered and questioned what you lacked that led to this. However, the overwhelming sense of betrayal consuming your thoughts ultimately prevailed over any other emotions.

Now he could've appeared before you as a stranger and you wouldn't bat an eye, as the cold steel in his tone said, "And if blaming me is what it takes to make you feel better, then so be it."

You couldn't pinpoint the source of your sudden boldness, but in the next hot minute, you marched past him, your shoulder harshly colliding with his in a deliberate, almost spiteful manner—which, indeed, was your intention—and then you ran.

Which led to the next scene: you found yourself bawling your eyes out in the girls' lavatory.

Yuji and Nobara saw everything unfolding right before their eyes. They hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but you and Megumi were literally breaking up right the middle of their shared classroom, and it was hard not to follow the discourse until the end.

"Are you okay?" Nobara had come to your side, ensuring privacy by locking the restroom door out of your consideration. You were a sobbing mess, attempting to wipe the overflowing tears away while letting out all your emotions.

"He's..." Your voice faltered amid sobs as you gazed at your steadfast friend, your throat clogging up. "He said... he's been wanting t-to... break up with m-me..."

"That's okay, that's okay..." Nobara brought you to her arms, patting your back in reassurance. "Fushiguro is insensitive like that... don't cry over him now. He's just a wimp, okay?"

"Why is it me?" you asked her, voice brittle, still shaking with tears. "I t-tried everything! Being the supportive girlfriend..."

"If he can't appreciate what you did, then the problem lies with him," your friend stated, traces of irritation brewing in her resolute gaze. And as she firmly grasped your wrist, her next words resonated. "Not you."

. . .

"Do you really have to break her heart like that?" Yuji fidgeted with his hoodie, staring at his best friend with a blend of confusion and sympathy.

Megumi sighed, finally ruffling his hair into a mess, as if expressing his own state of mind. “This is for the best.”

Yuji’s eyebrows visibly creased. “How is this ‘for the best’? She’s miserable, and you…” he assessed him, scanning him from head to toe, “it doesn’t seem you’re faring any better too.”

“The longer she is with me, the unhappier she will be.” Megumi glanced at the bathroom’s direction. “She can deserve better.”

He was always too quiet, too boring, not able to match your energy too. He couldn’t fault you for expecting more, whereas he was just not exactly built for your expectations.

Megumi really thought he wanted it to end. At one point, it even felt like a chore, but…

How strange. Why did it feel like something was clawing at his chest?

Time heals. Megumi knew that by theory, but he really did see it firsthand when he saw you all giggling and happy again three weeks after he initiated the breakup.

With Hakari.

“Yo, what are you glaring at?” Panda asked, but Megumi didn’t pay him any mind.

An upperclassman, Hakari Kinji, was naturally cool and talented. He was laid back, knew how to have fun—all in all, a total opposite of Fushiguro Megumi altogether.

Three weeks. It’s only been three weeks since then.

“Megumi?”

Wait… Aren’t three weeks too fast to get over your ex?

“Megumi!”

“Huh?” he turned to the sentient panda with a jerk. “Oh, what is it?”

He looked at him with a concerned gaze. "Why do you look so scary? It's almost as if you're about to punch someone..."

But who was he to argue? He had no right to be upset now.

"Is it Kinji?" Panda gasped, finally putting two and two together when he followed his line of sight. "Oh Megumi... but you—"

"Just shut up, please," he blurted then, a hint of annoyance in his tone. With that, Panda didn't pursue it further, leaving him with his thoughts.

From where he was at the field, he could clearly see your radiant smile for Hakari. It was clear that the two of you shared a degree of friendship, but Megumi never knew that you two were that close.

...huh?

Why did the sight irritate him so suddenly? Why did his chest twinge again?

What a fool. You're the one driving her away, you idiot.

Suddenly these memories popped up one by one—

Of you suddenly hugging him from behind in an attempt to surprise him.

How he pressed his lips on the crown of your head when you fall asleep on his shoulder.

How you would give him that dopey smile when he pulled you close.

But on harder days after missions gone wrong, he’d ignore you altogether— the slight disappointment in your smile then. How your expression fell when he told you to go. How you slumped and looked back in hopes of him changing his mind.

“Haaaah.” Megumi turned away, unwilling to keep watching you any longer. Why? Why hadn’t it occurred to him before now?

Why did he long for you now? Why not before, when you were still his?

They were right. It seems people tend to desire what isn't meant for them.

What could have been more painfully awkward than being sent into a mission with your ex-boyfriend?

You would kill Gojo for this. Or at least give him the lowest possible score in his teaching evaluation for the year. How could he? Your breakup was an infamous public spectacle, so this setup was undoubtedly intentional!

You were losing your head over this, and yet your ex-boyfriend...

"Keep your guard up," Megumi reminded curtly, in a warning tone. He looked as vigilant and straight as always, as if he wasn't even bothered.

You threw him a dirty look, offended. "You don't have to tell me twice."

This just cranked up the discomfort to an excruciating level. The mix of unresolved tension and memories—okay, you might be an emo, but how were you supposed to be cool with all of these hanging in the air?

Your site of exorcism was an abandoned warehouse, and the cursed spirit in question was supposed to be a grade 3. You two were grade 2 sorcerers now, so you were a perfect fit to exorcise it. But there was indeed this unease in the air that you couldn't put your finger to.

"Isn't it awfully too quiet?" you unwittingly muttered, staring at the darkness of the wall. You couldn't feel any cursed energy belonging to any possible malevolent entity, and that was what unsettled you the most.

Megumi frowned at your line of sight. "It is. Stay close."

You blinked at what he said, and before you knew it, the familiar scent of him being near to you made your entire body burst with this equally familiar warmth. When you looked up to him, seeing the solid sharpness in that dark eyes of his and his jaw set, dead butterflies in your chest rose back to life again, against your heartbreak and better judgement.

Stay close, he said... So he is worried...

And in an attempt to hide how flustered you were, you looked down.

You walked a few good steps, when suddenly he asked, "So, are you with Hakari-senpai now?"

"Huh?" You spun around, your expression a mix of surprise and confusion.

"You two seem close."

Seem close? Seem close... wait, so Megumi had noticed...?

Suddenly, you felt incited and it made you angry. "That's none of your business," your voice carried a sharp edge, hissing. And you knew you were being a bit mean by adding, "You broke up with me, so why do you even care?"

In that moment, Megumi could've sworn his chest throbbed. Your cutting tone pierced directly into his heart, lodging itself there.

You had all rights to be annoyed, and he knew that. Why did that question even slip out of him?

"Nah, nevermind," he mumbled in response, looking away.

Awkwardness lingered afterwards. You hated this, but no, you weren't above being petty. He had broken your heart and it still stung even now. If your intentionally biting words did to him even a fraction of what he made you feel, then you would find a small sense of satisfaction in it.

But you weren't able to ponder about your mess of feelings further when Megumi abruptly yanked your arm, his voice soaking with urgency, "It's here!"

Sure enough, the grotesque cursed spirit with the shape of a giant bee broke through the walls with a bang. The two of you immediately readied your fighting stance. Megumi was ready with his divine dogs, while you with your cursed weapon.

For a while, you engaged the cursed spirit with all you had. You were trying to focus on the enemy, but you couldn't help but notice the way Megumi always looked at you every few seconds, checking for any signs of injury or harm.

Frankly speaking, he trusted your strength and knew that you were a capable sorcerer. You had been paired in a mission before and he knew both your potential and shortcomings. It was just there was something about this place that had his senses on high alert.

And his fears were proven true when you yelped and were flung onto the grimy floor. "Y/N!"

"I'm fine!" you shouted in a rush, scrambling to your feet. However, as you spun towards him, your scream tore through the hall as you caught sight of the bee lurking behind him. "Megumi!"

He got distracted. The bee quickly latched onto him and almost stung him, until he wrestled it off and summoned Nue and exorcised it.

You went to his side that instant. "Are you okay?!"

"I am." But then he winced and almost fell on his knees if you didn't have a secure grip on him. He savored your touch and breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that now you two were safe.

"Megumi! Oh god!" Panic surged through you as you pulled him close. His side was bleeding, and you widened your eyes at the sight.

"I'm okay, I promise," he rasped, looking you in the eyes. "What abo—"

Then you saw it, the flicker from deep from that corner of platform, and suddenly, you grasped the source of the unease that had been lingering within you all this time. It wasn't the bee Megumi had just exorcised—

At that moment, there was no room for thought, one thing was certain: you didn't want him to get hurt more.

He didn't manage to finish his sentence when suddenly you pushed him away with so much force he never thought you had. Everything crashed so suddenly, he didn't have the time to brace himself or grab you with him, as another cursed bee appeared out of nowhere and—

Reality flashed before his eyes as he stared at you in sheer horror. At how the cursed spirit tore your body, sinking its hollow stinger in you.

You didn't really know what happened next. Everything was muffled—the frantic movements around you turned into a blur, along with Megumi's yells. Otherworldly pain coursed through your entire being and your ears rang, then everything in your line of sight became distorted and faded, along with your consciousness. Next and the last thing you knew was Megumi's battered face, a final imprint before you succumbed to the void.

Megumi had exorcised the remaining cursed spirit and staggered to his feet—falling a few times, but he made his way towards you through gritted teeth. You are hurt. He forced himself to get to you and pull you into his arms.

And suddenly, suddenly, nothing mattered anymore as overwhelming terror consumed him upon seeing you. Blood streamed from your abdomen so much that it made a continuous pool.

"You stupid—!" He choked out, voice hitching. You were no longer conscious and it devastated him even more. "Hey, hey? Wake up—hells—"

You, who did everything you could to save your relationship. You, who cried tears for him when he blatantly broke your heart. And you, who put himself first—and now facing the consequences.

It crashed upon him in that very second, the clarity. What was he thinking back then? He still loves you.

"If you die on me, I won't forgive you."

Megumi scooped you in his arms, pressing you close to his chest, the blood seeping from his wound be damned as he looked at your serene face. His heart shattered in the worst way possible and he almost wheezed at the sticky sensation of your blood—and how lifeless you felt in his grasp—but he willed it away.

"Don't," his broken rasp echoed the walls as he took each step to get both of you out of this hellhole. He winced and hissed at his own injury, chewing his lip in frustration, at how helpless he was.

"Don't leave me."

It was like a distant, hazy memory.

Was it a memory though? No. It seemed far too real for that.

The throbbing headache pounding through your skull and shivers that wracked your body pulled you back to reality. There was a heavy pressure on your abdomen and any movement sent sharp pain shooting through you.

You gradually opened your eyes, squinting against the brightness. You were in a hospital gown, an IV was injected on your arm, and the sterile scent made your stomach twist, as nausea creeping through your guts. Your vision was still blurry as you tried to look around to find someone who waited for you. As you slowly turned your head to the side, you saw him, sitting in the chair right next your bed.

Megumi was sleeping in such uncomfortable position, his head resting on the edge of your bed. He appeared peaceful, almost childlike, devoid of his usual stoic demeanor.

Your heartstrings were tugged at this rare sight. He also sustained injuries and yet... he was waiting for you to wake up, here.

Your chest swelled with warmth, which was quickly followed by a sting of heartbreak. Still, you two broke up...

You jolted, and the inadvertent movement sent a wave of pain that seemed to paralyze your nerves, causing you to whimper. The noise woke Megumi from his slumber, as he shot his eyes open in alarm, catching your hand in his.

"Hey... Are you okay?" Megumi worriedly looked down at you with a visible frown, and the grimace of pain on your face, accompanied by trembling lips, was enough of an answer. He hastily scrambled out in slight panic, "I'll get Ieiri-san."

When Shoko came and got you the painkillers, your pain receded somewhat. Through it all, Megumi stood there, casting concerned glances in your way.

"Bedrest for the week," Shoko stated firmly, assessing your wound with a no-nonsense expression. "Your injury isn't minor—it's serious enough that you're strongly advised against excessive movement."

You could only nod in response. Megumi bowed. "Thank you, Ieiri-san." Once the doctor departed, silence settled over the room once more.

“Why did you do that?” he quietly asked then, referring to what you did for him. And when you turned to him, you saw it clearly.

He looked pale, and there was this haunted look in his eyes. It broke your heart a little.

"You were hurt." Your voice came out dry, and you realized firsthand just how parched you were. Seeing Megumi looking down never quite sat right with you. He was meant to be an unwavering presence, someone strong enough to sway your convictions.

However, a pang struck when he countered with stern eyes, "You didn't have to do that."

...he was right. You didn't have to. What he didn't know was that you were still holding on these stupid feelings, which drove you to shield him. It made you ponder: if your roles were reversed, would he not step in to protect you at all?

"Why are you here?" You weren't sure if the bitterness in your tone was evident, but you continued anyway. "You don't have to be here either."

"Don't have to?" His gaze bore disbelief, as if not believing your words. "I'm—"

"If it's because I saved you, Megumi—"

“Do not even think, even for a moment, that I won’t be concerned over you.” His voice, deep and hoarse, struck you to the core, silencing your words. “Never. I always, always want you to be safe.”

Your mind became a blank slate. Suddenly, all that mattered was his voice.

"Don't you realize how terrifying it was? Seeing you like that?" Megumi spat, his green eyes shining with intensity, teeth gritted and fists clenched. "How could you even think that I wouldn't be here—" his breath hitched, and then his lips trembled slightly, "—for you?"

You blinked quickly, a feeling stirred within you—stemming from that cursed, fragile heart of yours to be exact, evident from the rapid thumping in your chest.

You dumbly uttered, "But we are—"

"Oh, Goddamnit." Megumi cursed, and honestly you were taken aback. It wasn't really in him to swear, so this really bugged him. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, and despite the situation, your heart skipped a beat at the sight. Even a mess in a hospital gown, your ex-boyfriend was still undeniably attractive.

He stared at you squarely in the eye, unflinching, steadfast and true, the very image of Fushiguro Megumi you admired from afar and fell in love with in the first place half a year ago. "You don't have to... say anything, if you don't want to. Right now... just hear me out."

And the things he said next... all of them, you could say, caught you entirely off guard.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not trying hard enough, and—damn it, for making you sad. I never, ever wanted to see you that upset."

Megumi drew in a sharp breath, averting his gaze. "And for days, I've wondered if you and Hakari-senpai are now a thing... and you know what? I hate it so much. I know I have no grounds to feel this way, after what I did, but..."

And like a train wreck, his final words hit you hard. Tears welled up in your eyes in immediate response.

“I'm a loser, and a coward too, maybe,” he shrugged, a tinge of self-deprecation in his tone. “And I suck at telling people my feelings, but I love you. I still do.”

A sob slipped out of your throat and you hastily pulled the blanket over your face, much to his surprise. He thought he had worsened things, with the way you were turning away from him.

But then, from beneath the blanket, in a croaky voice, you proclaimed, "Fushiguro Megumi, you're a complete and utter idiot."

And Megumi didn't know that he had been holding back his breath as he chuckled heartily, relieved that you would still take his ass back after this prolonged mess. He knew he still had a lot to make up for and was determined to show it through his actions.

"Maybe I am, yeah."

"That's possibly the longest shit you have ever spouted in one breath."

"Yeah..."

But he got his chance back, and he knew that you would be alright. Both of you are.

On one sunny day...

"Hey, are you alone?"

Megumi glanced up from his phone, only to be met with a random girl standing in front of him, batting her eyelashes with an ambiguous intent. He blinked at her curiously.

"No. Can I help you?"

The girl twirled her hair suggestively. "Ah, you see... I see you all in your lonesome and I think you're quite cute—"

The hell? Megumi frowned, and he was really about to give this bimbo a piece of his mind when—

Oh, oh. Forget that. Megumi's attention snapped to you on the opposite side of the crossroad. All pretty and dolled up with that crop tee and miniskirt he once mentioned would look great on you by a slip of tongue—that accidental comment earned him your teasing quips for weeks already.

"Sorry, I'm here for my girlfriend. Bye."

Abruptly dismissing the girl, he didn't catch how comically offended she was for being turned down in a span of 20 seconds. He took big strides towards you, as you crossed the street, and you immediately beamed when you caught the sight of his face.

"Megumi!"

Ah, this is going to be a good day, he thought. As he gazed at your pretty face, and caught your hand in his, clasping it tightly, reveling in your scent and the warmth of your presence beside him—

He was content, and once again it dawned on him, that he likes you so, so damn much.

"Let's get started on our date, shall we?"

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