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astraystayyh · 7 months

Text

Volcano

pairing : han x reader. enemies to lovers. slow burn.

summary : you've never gotten along with han, your mutual prejudices ruining any prospect of friendship between you both. but you slowly realize that you are more similar than what you originally thought- your darkness recognizing his, and his light yearning for yours.

"I'll take care of you. It's rotten work. Not to me, not if it's you."

cw : depiction of a panic attack, minor injury, both reader and han say mean shit to each other, cursing, mention of alcohol, reader has she/her pronouns.

word count : 13.2k

a.n: highly recommend listening to "Let the light in" by Lana when Han starts playing it in the fic hehe feedback is highly appreciated as always <3

skz quotes series masterlist.

You remember being seven years old, sitting on the floor of your bedroom, while your mom brushed your hair. It was a late July night, a cold breeze swaying your white curtains, akin to the fluttering of a butterfly’s wing. Your eyes were slightly puffy, delicate red veins protruding the white of them. You had just finished watching a Disney movie- the Lion King; heavy sobs escaping your lips when Mufasa died.

There were still faint hiccups coursing through you, a slight shake in your hands as you fiddled with the hem of your shirt. Your mom brought you to her chest, her chin resting on your small shoulder blade. "You’re sensitive, my sweet girl" she had uttered, rubbing your arms soothingly.

It was the first time someone described you as such. You didn’t know what ‘sensitive’ entailed exactly, but it contained the word ‘sense’, so you assumed it was something good, a quality to be proud of you. You could sense, maybe more than others, maybe too deeply. That’s why you cried when you didn’t get a good grade, or when your friends left you alone in the park.

But you didn't mind back then. What was your heart made for if not to feel?

You should’ve paid more attention to the way your mom spoke, to the bittersweetness lingering in her tone. As if she knew exactly what it entailed to be sensitive- to have your heart overflow with delicate feelings for the rest of your life, with no safe destination to guard them in.

☄༄

You’ve forgotten the last time you cried in.

The tears are lodged inside your throat- you can clearly feel them, an uncomfortable weight sitting on your vocal cords, rendering them impossible to use.

You used to cry, freely, so much that you lost count of how much it happened. But you realized that every tear that escaped your eyes, made you vulnerable, weaker, in the hands of the people around you. Every tear that washed over you, only rendered you more transparent for everyone to peer at how they wounded your soul.

So, you conditioned yourself to stop feeling as deeply, or at least to stop showing it. The sadness, the hurt, the anger were all stored within you; but your face remained placid, not betraying how you truly felt. You were like a pond, tranquil at the surface, raging from within.

But on days like this one, you miss the person you were. When the implications of being sensitive still haven’t weighed down on you. When you could get rid of your feelings in the essence of your tears. When you didn’t yet feel bad for feeling.

Chan's eyes are on you, as you type furiously on your laptop. Your vision is so blurry that you can no longer see your lit screen. But you’re afraid that if you pause then Chan would ask if you were okay, and you hated that question. Because you never truly knew the answer to it. Yes, you were okay. But you haven’t cried in six months and your friend didn’t greet you back this morning and you suddenly feel very small in a very large library.

"Hey," Chan taps your hand with his pen and you suck in a slight breath, before raising your head to meet his eyes. "Are you-" he starts but you’re quick to cut him off, knowing exactly where this was headed. "Did you answer question five? I’m stuck on what formula to use."

Chan raises a brow at you, and you blink repeatedly. His eyes travel to your feet tapping furiously against the floor, and he understands.

"I'm still at number four," he finally says and you nod in relief. You’ve been close friends for a year and Chan has come to know you- he’s dropping the subject.

"Oh, and are you coming to the party tonight?" Chan asks, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He’s hosting it and there is hope twinkling in his eyes. You feel bad because you’re about to crush it.

"No, need to revise more for the upcoming test."

"Of course, you’ll still be buried in your books," a sarcastic voice quips up, and you stiffen inwardly. Han- one-third of 3racha, Chan’s self-made producing group, and the bane of your existence. You never liked who you were around Han, he brought out the worst in you. Made all your insecurities roar forward, plastered across your body in neon red.

He was friends with Chan, long before you came into the picture, back into their high school days when Han skipped a class and ended up in the same one as Chan’s. A genius, as everyone around you liked to call him. And they were right- excelling came easily to Han, in everything he ever did. Even tapping into each one of your tender nooks and crannies.

He knew how to expertly push your buttons, how to make his tone sound mocking, and taunting, but only to you. Because you were sensitive, and he knew it, finding it almost amusing to toy with you.

You decide to stay silent because nothing good ever comes out of talking back to him. So, you bite your tongue, turning back to look at your screen. But Han’s elbow grazes your arm, as he leans a bit further into your face. "Come on, live a little, y/n. You’re missing out on the college experience," he makes a big show of opening his arms wide, a single red pen spinning between his fingers. "Quit being stuck up for one night." And it spins, and it spins, and it spins and something ugly inside you crumbles.

"I’m sorry I wasn’t born with a golden spoon shoved down my throat and I actually have to work for my future."

Han’s eyes widen at the raw animosity in your voice, before narrowing down promptly. He’s leaning onto your face again, and his tone is low and cold when he speaks again. "What did you just say to me?"

"Is it so hard to grasp that not everyone is as privileged as you? We can’t all afford to get wasted every fucking night and call it a life."

You’re being mean. This is the rudest you’ve ever been to someone else. You know that your reaction is disproportionate to what he said. But it isn’t just about this instant. It’s an amalgam of every moment Han made you feel small in, because you don’t go out as much as him, because you don’t understand as quickly as him. Taunts thrown your way under the guise of teasing, but you know better.

Still, guilt eats at you as your eyes lock with Chan’s. You should’ve stayed silent, as you’ve been diligently doing for the past year.

"How do you stand being her friend Chan? Is it out of pity?" Han muses, a pout pulling at his lips. You stare ahead as Han tsks lightly, before tapping your cheek with his pen, bringing your face back to him. "I think it is. Because isn’t she so fucking boring?"

Being near Han always makes you hyper-aware of things you never noticed before. Like how a breath has to travel from the depths of your body so you’d be able to release it, and how excruciatingly long it takes for you to draw in a new one. Because Han’s words are never harmless, no, they settle on the confines of your lungs, crushing down any bit of oxygen willing to leave you.

You've had enough.

"When you’re eighty, on your deathbed, and all alone. I hope you know that there is no one around to blame but yourself."

"Don’t cross the line, yn," Chan finally speaks and you scoff, as you get up to grab your things.

"What fucking line, Chan? So, he can insult me all day but as soon as I do it there is a line? Why are you taking his side?"

Chan stays silent and you chuckle dryly. "Of course, you are. You’re only friends with me out of pity after all."

"That’s not true-"

"Well, you didn’t deny it, did you Chan?"

"Yn, I-"

"Save it."

Han’s eyes are glossy as you take one final glance at him. But your heart’s bleeding too much for you to care about his minor cut.

☄༄

For how much time can a conversation haunt someone? Seventeen days, for your case. And you're still counting.

You have nit-picked your fight with Han in the library so much that it's driving you insane. His voice is drilled into your head- the coldness of it as he reeled back from the shock of your words, and then, the pure venom dripping from his tone, as he attacked you where it hurt the most. Chan.

Han chose his words carefully, stitched up the sentence perfectly to hurt you, to stick to your flesh like burnt skin, one that you peeled over and over, each time it threatened to scar.

You haven't talked to Chan in seventeen days. He tried to stop you; on your way out of class, in the line of your campus cafeteria, on the doorsteps of your dorm. But you always fleet away. His eyes were also imprinted into your brain- the disappointment in them when you clapped back at Han.

What about him? You wanted to yell. Why are you only disappointed in me?

But the tears in your pillow have dried. Then fallen again. Then dried once more. And you found the answer to question five. And you miss Chan, terribly so.

That's why you're pacing around his dorm, at 10 pm, when it's also terribly cold outside. Your fingers have gone numb from the ministrations of the wind, but you don't move from your place. You know that the chances of seeing Han- the second person you’ve been avoiding like the plague- would be higher here. But you didn't care anymore.

Your thumb hovers over the call button and you bite your lip harshly. Would Chan pick up? Would he hang up? Was he really your friend out of pity?

"Yn?" a voice calls out, and you startle, turning around to see who it is. Changbin, carrying two bags of groceries in his hand. He's Chan’s friend as well, the final member of 3racha. You like Changbin. He's always being very kind to you. You've grown much closer to him than to Han in the past few months; not that the latter has ever wanted a friendship with you. From the day you met and his eyes narrowed promptly each time you talked. You should’ve known from the start.

"Why are you out here in the cold?" Changbin asks gently, stepping cautiously towards you.

"Chan," you say simply and he nods, understanding what you mean.

"He's not here now, but he'll come home soon. Let's go inside, okay?" he smiles tentatively at you and you hum in reply.

Changbin opens the door and you follow inside. You help him take out the groceries silently, stacking them in their fridge and shelves. Lots of protein powder, and chicken packets. You'd laugh about it if you weren't so sad.

"Chan misses you," Changbin speaks up suddenly, and your heartbeat quickens at his words.

"I miss him too."

"Then you'll be okay."

You try to remember Changbin’s reassuring smile when Chan finally opens the door to the dorm, an hour later. He finds you sitting on the stool in the kitchen. His eyes light up once they settle on you.

And you unravel at the sight.

You're crying, sobs rippling from you as he brings you to his chest. He's patting your head and whispering that it's okay. And you know his shirt is all crumpled from clutching it in your hands. But he doesn't mind. He only hugs you tighter.

"I'm sorry, yn. So, so, sorry. I should've stopped him before, I just... You two are my best friends and I didn't want to add fuel to the fire by talking and-"

"It's okay, it's okay, I'm the one who should apologize for ghosting you."

"I understand why you did it. I fucked up but I missed you so much. Can we please never do this again?”

“Yes please,” you giggle, but the sound withers as the door opens once again.

"What is she doing here?" a cold voice breaks you and Chan apart, as your eyes land on Han. His gaze sucks the breath out of you, and the warmth in your heart fizzles out. Your hold on Chan’s shirt tightens and he takes an unconscious step in front of your body. Han doesn't miss the protective gesture.

"Get out, yn."

"You don't get to kick my friends out of my house," Chan is angry. And you regret ever coming here.

"Last I checked it's my house too." Han doesn't even bother looking at you. He's holding Chan’s gaze as if they're silently communicating. "You know damn well what she said why-" he takes a deep breath, running a hand angrily through his hair. "Fuck this. If she's not leaving then I am."

And with that he storms out, slamming the door behind him. You flinch at the sound.

Chan’s eyebrows are knitted as he stares at where Han stood seconds ago as if trying to conjure him up once again. You never wanted to strain their friendship. You knew how much Han cared for Chan, even if he didn't bear the same sentiment for you.

"Chan, I’ll leave. Call Han and tell him I'm gone."

"You don't have to."

"I know," you reassure, placing your hand on his forearm. "We'll talk more later, okay? It's cold and he has nowhere to go. Just call him, please."

"Fine," Chan concedes. "Call me when you get home, alright?" his eyes finally soften and you squeeze his hand in reply, before heading out as well.

The walk from Chan’s dorm to yours is fairly short, but tonight, it seems like kilometers are separating you from the safety of your bed. There is a heavy weight crushing your bones, most of it being guilt at what just transpired between Chan and Han.

That's what comes with being sensitive- you bear the weight of your feelings and the one of those surrounding you.

Were you out of place with what you said to Han? Yes. Was it eating you inside to see the consequences of your words? Yes. But he was also to blame, you repeated in your head. He was also to blame. Please. You plead, you don't know to whom, maybe to the voice in your head to stop being so mean. 'But none of this would've happened if you weren't so sensitive. So easy to bruise' the voice mocks and you stumble on your feet.

It happens so suddenly it takes you off guard- the way the breath is knocked out of you. You pause, chest heaving as you bend down slightly. Your hand is on your heart as you try to breathe again, but it's shaking so much. Your legs give out under you, and you plop down on the floor, eyes tightly shut. You can't breathe. You can't breathe. You're going to pass out.

"Yn, what-" A hand rests on your shoulder but you shake it off. You don't want to be touched. Not by him.

"Let me help-" Han speaks again, and you scramble away from him, as best as you can anyway. You end up kneeling on the ground once again, your back to him. "Get-get away."

"I know you're mad but you aren't okay and I know how horrib-"

"You aren't helping!" you shout through tears, as your heart threatens to spill out of your throat. "You’ve hurt me e-enough already."

You don't remember how you got home that night, how you managed to open the door or cross the road leading to your dorm. But you remember Han leaving you on the cold ground, just like you wanted. You remember the ache in your bones as you laid on your bed; the burning desire to stop feeling for a night, to cut your chest open and tear off your bleeding heart.

☄༄

One month later

If there's one thing you've always complained to Chan about, it's the fact that his building had an elevator in it, unlike yours.

Today, you’ve come to regret this fact. Tremendously.

You’ve been avoiding going to Chan’s dorm for the past weeks since the last thing you wanted was to see Han. But, he insisted on you coming over, reassuring you that it would only be him and Changbin at home since Han supposedly had other plans.

Well, Chan was wrong. Because Han just walked into the elevator you are in, mere moments before its doors closed.

Your breath catches in your throat as his eyes lock on yours. He looks like he wants to say something but he decides against it, opting for sighing loudly instead, before pressing the button leading to the fourth floor, rather harshly.

Your need to flee has never been this strong.

You watch anxiously as the numbers slowly go up. 1… 2… 3… Then a loud voice startles you and the elevator starts to shake in place. The door is suddenly opened and you are met with a cement wall, blocking your exit.

"What the fuck?" Han groans as you press the emergency button repeatedly, hoping that the elevator will resume its course and this nightmare will be forgotten.

It doesn’t.

"You’re going to break the goddamn button," Han pushes your hand away and you stumble away from him.

"Can you shut up? I’m not in the mood for your bullshit."

"Does it look like I’m happy to be here?" Han scoffs, as a ringtone plays in the elevator, cutting you off before you could respond.

"Hey guys, this happens from time to time, so no need to worry. Is everyone alright?" Someone speaks and you assume it's the worker charged with the maintenance of the elevator.

"Yes," you both reply at the same time.

"Great. We’ve contacted the mechanics but they said there’s a lot of traffic, so it might take a bit longer for them to get here."

"How long?" Han asks the question that’s on your mind as well.

"Two hours, at most, for you to get out."

"Oh, for fuck’s sake," you groan, as hot tears prickle at the corner of your eyes. This is the last thing you needed today- to be stuck in a cramped-up space with the one person who sucks the oxygen out of any room you’re in.

"Thanks, man," Han sighs and you turn your back to him, facing the wall. You’ve had a horrible day, scratch that, a horrible week. Hanging out with Chan and Changbin was the one thing you were looking forward to, only for the worst possible scenario to happen- being stuck in the same place with Han. You feel an urgent need to sob but you can’t cry in front of him. Not when he’s all claws and your skin is tender.

"Wait, are you claustrophobic?" He suddenly asks, seemingly inches away from your body.

"As if you’d fucking care," you scoff, before heading to a corner of the elevator and settling down.

"I'm not a monster, you know," he mutters in an almost sad tone, one that forces you to look up at him. His hands are deep into his pockets, eyebrows knitted as he gazes down at you. "Do you really think I’m that much of an asshole?"

"Yes," you reply instantly, before staring forward again. The hurt that flashes in his eyes shouldn’t tug at your heartstrings, but it does, ever so faintly, like the last wave that grazes your feet as you get out of the ocean. "I’m not claustrophobic," you add after a while and Han finally sits on the opposite side from you.

It’s hot and stuffy in the elevator, and it’s quiet, too quiet for your liking. You’ve never really liked silence for too long, it made the small voice in your head only grow bolder, louder, impossible to ignore.

Thirty-five excruciatingly long minutes go by and the tension only grows more suffocating. It’s simmering, barely beneath the surface, waiting for the person who will finally make it explode.

It’s Han.

“Can I ask you something?”

“No.”

“Come on, we have nothing else to do.”

“Have you tried being silent?”

"Yn," he says sternly and you begrudgingly concede. "Fine. Ask me."

You imagine him smirking slightly, the way he does each time he manages to push you over the edge.

“Why do you hate me so much?”

“We’re not doing this right now,” you shake your head, tone adamant.

"When’s a better time for it? We’re literally never in the same place."

“And whose fault that is?” You smile too sarcastically and he frowns. “So, I’m the only one to blame?”

“Can’t you see how full of yourself you are? Fuck, Han, this is exactly what I hate about you.”

“What are you even talking about?”

“You’re so immature, you never sit back to think of how your words might impact someone.”

"What words yn? I was teasing you!" his voice grows louder and so does yours. "You were hurting me!" you yell, chest heaving. There is something utterly terrifying in this confession- to let someone know how easy it was for them to get to you.

"But I didn’t mean to," he drags a hand through his hair, exasperated. "It's not my fault you felt that way."

An ironic chuckle leaves your lips, as you point at him. "See, you're doing it again! You're blaming me for my reaction instead of evaluating how your actions might have caused it."

"Look, yn," he scrambles to you until there are only a few centimeters separating your bodies. "I really wanna fix this, okay? Can we stop screaming?"

"Why are you so hellbent on fixing it?" you question, as you lean further away from him. He notices and takes a step back, giving you space.

"Because although I don't care about you, I care about Chan. And this is hurting him. So, I want to be civil with you."

The mention of Chan feels like a cold bucket of water dousing the fire within you. You know he’s struggling to be in the middle of two people he loves. He doesn’t deserve that.

"Fine," you sigh softly. “You talk. I’ll listen.”

"I didn't... I didn't know that my words would hurt you. In truth, it looked like you weren't affected at all. That's why I kept pushing you because… God Yn you're so perfect it maddens me."

Your eyebrows knit together at his words- the last thing you expected to stumble out of his mouth. "What are you talking about?"

"You never get sad, never get angry. Your emotions are always in check. You're always smiling, always laughing. Have everything figured out from how you want to be now to where you want to be in the future. And you know yourself, you never step out of order. And this is selfish and stupid but it irked me. Because I am the opposite of you. I'm a mess and too human it terrifies me, so I wanted to see if you had a breaking point. But each time I taunted you, you remained placid. So, I kept pushing to see if you'd break one day because, selfishly enough, that would make me feel better about how broken I am."

"Han, you're so stupid. Aren't you a literal genius? You excel in everything you do and you have fun on top of it, every single night. Don't you realize how lucky you are?"

"Do you really believe I find joy in being wasted and not even remembering what happened that night? I do that because I'm in my mind most of the days and it isn't the best place to be in. So, I like to forget."

“Why do you think I always bury myself in my studies? Because it's safe and it makes me forget too. Did you really think I didn’t feel? I feel too much and that’s the problem.”

Han remains silent as you curse under your breath. "Do you even realize how selfish this is? To test a human's breaking point? All because what? I didn't shove my struggles down your nose? Would you go around and do this to everyone who looked fine to you?"

"I know, I know, I was just in a bad place, and this isn't an excuse but I... I felt as if you were just showing me everything that was wrong with me."

"That is how I felt around you," you chuckle bitterly and he hangs his head low. He’s much quieter when he speaks again. “I guess we’re more similar than I thought.”

"Doesn't excuse what you did. You targeted me and made me feel insane because no one was hearing the hostility in your tone like I did."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. I really am. I never thought it'd get this bad and I deserve every name you called me."

"You do." You close your eyes, as Han’s words wash over you. There is so much more you want to say, so much you want to spit out in his face because of his selfish coping mechanism. But you also want peace, for Chan’s sake. So, you try to bury your resentment, just like you do with every other feeling. One day it’ll turn into indifference. You’ll make sure of it.

You bite your lip, before clearing your throat. Your tone is softer when you speak again. "I'm sorry for what I told you in the library. About you dying alone and whatnot. That wasn't nice of me."

"You really hit the nail with that one," Han chuckles quietly, and guilt floods your heart at the expression on his face. "And I'm sorry for calling you boring. You aren't. And for everything I said before that."

"Okay. It's okay." You reassure, a tiny smile drawn on your lips.

He nods before a sly grin grows on his face. "Should we hug it out?" he teases, cocking an eyebrow at you and you stare pointedly at him. "Don't push your luck."

"Yes, ma'am."

An hour later, the mechanics finally manage to get the elevator going, which in turn allows you both to get out. Han opens the door to the dorm, and you find Chan lying on the couch, scrolling down his phone.

"Han? I thought you would..." he starts before trailing off as he looks up. "Yn? Where were you, I’ve been calling you for the past two hours."

"I didn't have signal."

"Why where were-" Chan goes to question before stopping once again. He hurriedly stands up and walks toward you.

"You... Are standing next to one another."

"We are," Han replies, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

"And you aren't... Fighting?" his statement comes out more like a question, which makes both you and Han chuckle.

"We aren't."

"We talked it out, in the elevator which we were both just stuck in," you add and Chan’s eyes grow wide, as a breathtaking smile breaks out on his face.

"Oh my god. Finally. We'll talk about the elevator bit later but it's been so hard trying not to be in the same place as the both of you."

"We know. We're sorry," you both pout in sync and Chan shakes his head, before opening his arms wide. You giggle, before walking to him and sinking into his embrace. Han follows you shortly after, and your eyes meet behind Chan’s back. He shoots you a tiny thumbs up.

Is this how a dandelion feels, you wonder, when someone blows on it in the hopes it'll grant their selfish wishes. Only to be tossed away afterward, lifeless.

You drown out the thought before smiling back at Han. It doesn’t reach your eyes.

☄༄

Befriending two-thirds of 3racha holds within it a lot of privileges. The first one is listening to unreleased music, the second is having exclusive insight into their upcoming performances.

Their gigs don't happen as often as they'd like, because they're still students who unfortunately have lots of assignments. But when a window of free time materializes, they unveil their latest productions at vibrant parties, dimly lit bars, or even the occasional club. Which attracts a lot of people, some even coming from neighboring towns to listen to them play.

Everyone can recognize raw talent, even if rap doesn't happen to be their favorite genre.

This is how you know that they'll be performing Heyday, their latest creation, at Seungmin’s party. You've met him in passing, and Chan insisted that you'd come. Not that you needed much convincing anyway, you fell in love with this song the minute you heard it.

There is an exhilarating energy in Seungmin’s mansion, a palpable anticipation preceding 3racha’s performance, as you all gaze at the makeshift stage. The place is packed, bodies pressed tightly to one another. You feel slightly uncomfortable but you swallow it down. You're here to support Chan first and foremost, you can leave if things become too much for you.

The introductory chords materialize abruptly, and 3racha takes the stage. Chan is clad in a white shirt with huge gaps on his sides, revealing glimpses of his chest each time he bends down. Changbin, on the opposite end of the spectrum, is wearing a tightly fitted black shirt, hugging each muscle of his to perfection. Han, the last one to walk in, sports a loose black shirt, with a low neckline. His nails are painted to match the color of his attire, you notice.

The song kicks off with Changbin's incendiary rap as deafening cheers ring all around you. You make sure to scream on top of your lungs too, as Changbin’s loud voice commands the attention of everyone in the room. You’ve always held a penchant for his rap style- how powerful he sounds, and how addicted you quickly become to hearing him on stage. You remember once telling him that any song that starts with his rapping is a successful hit. He playfully nudged your shoulder but his appreciative smile was hard to miss.

Chan’s part is next and you try to rap along, as best as you can anyway due to your fleeting memory. It sounds mostly like gibberish but you don’t mind, especially when your eyes meet Chan’s and he grins at you, before morphing into the mesmerizing stage persona that's peculiar to him. You clearly remember the first time you witnessed him on stage, and how enthralled you were by the sheer power he exuded. His destiny was intertwined with music, no one could deny that.

A bed squeaking sound comes next, followed by the knocking on the door and you giggle against your will. That was Han’s ingenious touch, as Chan had shared when you'd raised a quizzical brow at him while listening. “Is this based on a real-life experience?” You asked, a knowing smirk etched upon your features, and he pretended to zip his mouth, earlobes turning a vibrant shade of crimson.

Han finally starts rapping in his inimitable style, exuding an effortless, laid-back aura. Your gazes meet at the "let's go play" line, and he tilts his head quizzically at you as he utters his confused "huh?". You raise one eyebrow at him prompting a sly smirk from him, before redirecting his attention to the opposite side of the stage. Yet, your eyes remain on him throughout his entire part.

The boys step off the stage, and you watch from the corner of the room with a wide grin as a swarm of people surrounds them. Congratulations and praise fill the air, and you can tell that 3racha thrives on this moment- it's what they live for, what makes their souls rise up from the ashes.

Chan catches your eye, and you applaud enthusiastically, letting out a happy giggle. He blows you a kiss, and you playfully pretend to catch it, eliciting a small shake of his head. Changbin, who's standing near him, catches the exchange and winks at you from a distance, to which you respond with two thumbs up.

Even though you're a bit far from them, you're certain the boys can sense the pride radiating from you in waves. There's something truly magical about humans existing in their element, particularly people you care about.

Your gaze shifts to Han, and your smile falters slightly. He's also glowing, but signs of discomfort are starting to creep onto his face. You recognize them fairly well, as you've felt them too at times when emotions become overwhelming. So, after a brief internal debate, you decide to act and begin making your way toward him, pushing through the crowd despite the rising complaints behind you.

They fall on deaf ears.

You grab Han's forearm, pulling him with you through the sea of bodies toward the bathroom. He doesn't fight, following diligently behind you. You open the door and pull him inside, pausing as you realize you don't have a specific plan for bringing him here. This is also the first time you've been alone together since the elevator conversation.

"Thank you," Han whispers, and you nod, your eyes softening. "I'm okay, I love performing, I just needed a breather," he quickly adds, as if feeling guilty for being overwhelmed.

"That's completely understandable. You are running on a lot of adrenaline, and the room is so crowded," you say with a smile, turning to the mirror to touch up your makeup.

Han remains silent for a while as you powder your face, before reapplying your cherry lip gloss. You can hear him taking in deep breaths, and you avoid looking at him, worried he might feel embarrassed.

"What did you think of the performance?" he finally asks, and you raise your head slightly. You lock eyes with him through the mirror, as he leans against the door, arms crossed in front of his chest. His black t-shirt falls a bit, revealing more of his bare skin, and your eyes trail down for a moment.

"It was really good. I think this song might be my favorite of all yours."

"Really?" Han grins, his words filled with an excitement that warms your heart despite yourself. He's just received heaps of compliments from hundreds of people, yet your words still seem to affect him deeply.

"Yes. I loved your rap, how it started in a laid-back manner, and then you cleared your throat and picked up the pace. It added a unique edge to the song."

"Thank you, really," his smile is genuine, and you giggle softly, shaking your head.

"What's funny?" he asks, walking up to you. You're still facing the mirror, and he's now only inches away from you.

"I didn't imagine you'd appreciate my compliment this much."

"It feels sincere," he shrugs and you nod, finally turning around and leaning against the sink.

"It is sincere."

"Good."

You hold his gaze, eyes only trailing down to go across his face. He looks far different from how he did on stage. Shier, more eager for praise.

"You have..." he steps up until the scent of his cologne tickles your nose. His hand raises ever so slowly to your face, and you hold your breath, as he picks up something from your cheek. His hands are warm.

"An eyelash fell. Make a wish."

A surprised chuckle escapes your lips. "You wish on fallen lashes?"

"You wish on everything when you need hope." his voice is low, a timber so foreign to your ears it sends shivers down your spine. So, you close your eyes, wishing for your heart to quit beating so fast.

"Done," you whisper and he blows the single lash away, his gaze still on you.

"Thank you for coming."

"Of course. I had to support Chan and Changbin." It slips from your mouth before you can stop it, and Han slightly recoils from your words.

"Right, them. Yeah. Of course," he finally backs away, and oxygen fills your lungs once again. "I'm good now. Should we go out?"

"After you," you nod tightly and he walks ahead first, his perfume trailing after him and pulling you into a dizzying dance.

☄༄

The party Seungmin hosted was your last time having fun for a while. Your preparation for midterm exams began soon after, and you found yourself swarmed with assignments left and right. Thankfully, you and Chan were going through it at the same time, which meant you met at the library each day, revising silently near one another.

Except this time, you were joined by Han.

Goosebumps ran across your skin as he pulled the chair next to you, not the good kind of shivers. You were reminded of the fight you had right here, three months ago. Which still left a bitter taste in your mouth.

You don't hate Han anymore. He's actually funny, and you enjoy listening to his ramblings when you go over to Chan's dorm. He's also really different in his home, much quieter, and softer. Much more like you.

But you're also human, and there is still a part of your brain sending off warning signals at his presence. Maybe because the hurt was never buried properly. You just brushed it off under the carpet after your elevator conversation. Most of it was spent shouting anyway.

"Hey," he greets and you just nod in reply. You can feel his gaze linger on you a bit after that, and a pang of guilt twists in your heart. "Hi," you finally reply, but you tune out his response. Why is it that you're sensitive to everyone's emotions but your own?

Twenty minutes go by, then forty, and you can no longer take the uncomfortable feeling clinging to your skin. So, you excuse yourself, hurriedly stepping out of the library.

Han follows you; you can tell it’s him because someone's chair scraped loudly against the floor as soon as you stood up, and that couldn't be Chan because he is always careful with the silence in the library. So, you put on your headphones and walk faster.

This is childish, surely it is, but you can't control your emotions. You've apologized and so did he, you talk from time to time and you even held his arm and took him to a quiet bathroom. So where is all this bitterness coming from?

"Dammit, yn, how are you so fast?" Han grabs your arm pausing you. He's panting slightly and you just blankly stare as he takes in a deep breath.

"Are you okay?" he finally asks and you nod, turning around to walk away. He stops you again.

"I made you uncomfortable, didn't I?" he asks quietly, and you sigh, rubbing your forehead wearily.

"You didn't do anything, I just... Being in that library reminded me of certain things."

"I know. Me too. Can we please talk?"

"We are talking," you raise your brows and he stares pointedly at you. "Come on you know what I mean."

"Fine," you giggle, "we can talk."

"I didn't apologize properly to you in the elevator. Truth is, I did it because Chan was mad at me and I couldn't stand it anymore."

The bitterness- you understand where it comes from now.

"But I am sorry. Truly sorry. I was selfish and I hurt you and this will sound like a joke, but I hate hurting people. I really do. I was just too wrapped up in my problems that I didn't realize how it would affect you and I'm sorry, I'm really sorry. I also shouldn't have tried to kick you out that day, but dying alone is my biggest fear, and seeing you in my home made me want to lose my mind because I couldn't get what you said out of my head, but it was so cold outside and again I shouldn't have told you to go out and I am so sorry-"

"Han, breathe," you smile, cutting him off and Han sucks in a deep breath, chest slightly heaving from talking uninterrupted for a minute straight.

"I'm sorry I just wanted to apologize, properly this time. I'm doing it because I'm guilty, not because of Chan. Nothing excuses my behavior, I know. And I wish I could turn back in time and actually get to know you because you're really cool and very nice, but I can't. All I can do is apologize. So I'm sorry, Yn. I really am."

"I appreciate it," you smile, and Han exhales a little from relief. "I didn't know that was your biggest fear, but even if it wasn't, that was uncalled for. I shouldn't have said something so mean. So, I'm sorry for it too. But I'm not apologizing for being mad, you deserved that."

"I did, I did, I know." He's quick to agree. "I don't want us to be awkward around one another. I'm not telling you that you have to be my best friend but, we can be friends, right? But you also don't have to. It's enough if you forgive me and... You know what? Never mind forget I said anything, I'm just nervous and-"

"Okay."

"Okay?" he repeats.

"We can be friends. I accept your truthful apology."

"Actually?"

"Yes."

"Like we can start over?" he grins and you chuckle at the excitement in his face. "Yes."

"Can we hug it out?"

"Too soon," you pout and he nods, a faint blush dusting his cheek.

"Right. Should we go back to the library? I saw that you were stuck on a question. I can help you."

"You won't make any comments?"

"No. Pinky promise." he outstretches his pinky towards you and you muse over it for a bit, before wrapping your finger around his. You grin at Han- your first genuine smile since he's known you. His hold on your pinky falters.

"Okay. I'm in."

.☄༄

Five weeks later- 1:13 a.m.

You were still slightly cautious near Han as if you were both threading along an invisible line. You could talk, but not too much, afraid any old animosity would shine through. And you could stay together, but not too long, in case it gets awkward and you wouldn't know what to do. So, you never mixed, just like water and oil, each of you knowing their place, away from the other.

But you still didn't want to miss out on outings with your friends. So, when Chan invites you for a movie night with Han, and Changbin, you don't say no.

The night runs smoothly, the warm beer you had easing your nerves bit by bit. It was also easier to forget that you once hated Han when he brought tears to your eyes from laughing so hard.

2:56 a.m.

An unbearable heat suddenly envelopes you, your very blood boiling from within. You hesitantly look down, to find your entire body bathed in red, as if your skin had melted away, exposing you to the scorching heat embracing your tender flesh.

You are in the heart of a volcano, with lava bubbling dangerously below. Hanging by a frail thread, you dangle over the edge of death.

And then, you plummet.

You startle awake, your heart pounding in your chest, your hand clutching it tightly. Cold sweat clings to your skin, and it takes you a few moments to realize that you're safe, far from the inside of the volcano that had threatened to consume you.

You glance at your phone- 3:43 a.m. You read. It's only been a mere hour since you went to sleep. You don't think you could drift back into slumber.

Dragging a hand tiredly across your face, you walk into the pitch-black kitchen. You pour yourself a glass of water, hoping that the icy drink will cool you down. You are safe.

"What are you-" you startle, dropping the glass and spinning around, hand pressed to your heart.

"Han, fuck, you scared me," you sigh, tugging at your hair slightly and he's quick to your side, a string of hushed apologies tumbling from his lips.

"I'm sorry, here let me clean it up," he kneels and you follow suit, grabbing his hands and gently pushing them away. "No, I dropped it, let me clean," you reassure, but your hands are trembling as you pick up the shards of glass, any bit of logic clouded by your racing thoughts.

Your heartbeat's ringing loudly in your ears, you barely register the glass cutting your skin until an uncharacteristic warmth oozes from your hand. Blood.

"Shit," you curse lowly and Han illuminates the place with his phone flashlight. "Did you cut yourself?" he asks and you shake your head, walking over to the sink.

"It's nothing, don't worry."

"Yn, let me see," he's standing behind you, the ghost of his breath grazing your exposed neck.

"Han, really it's-" he cuts you off, grabbing your forearm and walking you over to the couch. He finally turns on the lights before crouching down in front of you.

"Show me?" he asks gently and you're too tired to fight him. You open your palm tentatively, taking a look at your cut for the first time as well. It's not too deep, it won't require stitches. But it's also not shallow, blood oozing from it at a steady rhythm.

Han simply frowns upon gazing at your wound, before walking over to his room. You don't move from your spot, gaze lost into the space before you. What would happen if you never woke up? Would you feel your flesh burning? Bones melting as the searing lava-

"Here," he gently holds your wrist, as his eyes meet yours. "This will hurt a bit. Hold my arm as tight as you want and tell me if it becomes too much, okay?"

"Okay," you simply nod.

He dabs up your cut with a cotton pad soaked in alcohol. You hiss softly, as the liquid burns your open skin. Han abruptly stops at the sound. "Did I hurt you? I'm so sorry I didn't mean to I just-"

"It's okay," you smile reassuringly, "I can handle it."

Han nods, resuming his treatment. He's even softer this time, if that is even possible. He's careful when he rubs a soothing gel on your cut, before wrapping your palm in a gauze. He can't find a pair of scissors so he cuts it with his teeth, his lips brushing against the back of your hand. You account the warmth you're suddenly feeling to the aftermath of your nightmare.

"Why are you even up?" he finally asks as he settles next to you on the couch, eyes looking up to the ceiling.

"Nightmare."

"You’re okay?" he asks gently and he sounds truly concerned for your well-being. You aren't used to this. To Han acting like a friend to you. But it feels nice to be cared for, so you don't mind him blurring the lines tonight.

"I'm still a little bit scared," you admit sheepishly and Han's eyes soften under the dim moonlight.

"It passed. You're okay now."

"Am I?" you drag a hand tiredly across your face and Han frowns, inching closer to you.

"Is it a recurring dream?"

"Mm. It tires me out."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, I just want to forget." 'Help me forget' you want to add, but you decide against it. "Why were you up, anyway?"

"I got inspiration for lyrics so I had to write it down."

"Can you share some with me?" you ask, tone a tad too hopeful. Han catches it and smiles warmly at you.

"Sure. This is probably going to be in the chorus..." he pulls out his phone, heading to his notes app. "This is what I have so far... I let my frustrated screams out hoping that they’d be washed away in the rain. I send it off with a smiling face, down to the last drops left on my fingertips." he pauses, scrolling down a bit more. "I also wrote this; I think it'll be nice in a verse... I’m sure it’ll get better... Just like the earth hardens after the rain and flowers bloom again."

"You're such a talented lyricist Han," you whisper in awe, and Han’s cheeks warm up at your words, reminiscent of a setting sun. "But I also wish it was as easy as this. To let out all the emotions you bottle inside and for them to wash away with the rain." You bite your lip, as Han’s words echo in your head. "I think... I think that's why I get this nightmare. I don't free my emotions anymore, and they show up in my dreams to torment me."

You don't know where these bouts of honesty are coming from. Maybe because you're too weary to keep up a happy facade. Or maybe because you know that the person who wrote these lyrics must understand exactly how you feel.

"Well... It's raining." Han whispers after a while and you look at him, confusion plastered across your features.

"And?"

"Should we test it out?"

"Test what?"

"Screaming under the rain," he says as if it's the most evident thing in the world.

"What? That's insane, Han we will get sick and..." You pause, as the words dissolve in your mouth like the seafoam meeting the shore. "You know what? Let's do it!"

"Really?" he asks incredulously, a huge grin on his face.

"Yes!"

"Okay, let's go!"

You both abruptly stand up, still only clad in your pajamas. You quickly slip your shoes on before running outside. The rain envelops you in a cold hug as soon as you step outside, rain droplets trickling down your clothes. You don't mind, you have lots of bottled-up feelings to free.

"This needs music," Han smiles as he takes out his phone, putting his playlist on shuffle. 'Let The Light In' starts playing, and you shoot him a thumbs-up.

"It fits the rainy mood," you grin and he nods, squinting his eyes to be able to look at you.

"I think if we scream here, we'll scare the neighbors."

"I know!" you chuckle, wiping away the rain droplets on your forehead. "Where should we go?"

"The empty parking lot!" Han shouts so you'll hear him over the growing rain and you nod. He takes off running and you chase after him. You're both completely drenched once you're a bit far away from the house. But you don't care. Not when there is pure adrenaline rushing through you.

You finally stop, loud giggles escaping your mouth at the thrill of what you're doing. "You should start!" you yell excitedly and Han nods, taking in deep steadying breaths.

"Okay, I'm ready!"

"On the count of three! One... Two... Three!" and Han shouts at the top of his lungs, his screams getting lost in the rain. An incredulous smile breaks out on his face as you giggle loudly, the sound of it ringing out in the downpour.

"You looked insane!"

"I feel insane!" He yells honestly and a fit of laughter takes over you both. You hold his arm to steady yourself.

"You should try it now!" Han urges and you nod, willing yourself to calm down.

"Okay, will you count down for me?"

"Yes," he assures and you clap excitedly. Han can't help but smile at the excitement on your face.

"One... Two... Three!" And you shout, continuous screams spilling from the depths of your soul. Han wasn't wrong- your pain, your fear, your anger are all dripping along the rain droplets, from your bruised heart to the tip of your fingers.

You've never felt this free before.

The two of you don't notice the passage of time, the rain acting as a cathartic release to all your pent-up emotions. It was as if your pain intertwined with each rain droplet, and you were letting go of everything that had held you down. Each scream acted as a break from the burdens of the past, and the worries of the future.

As you finally stopped, panting and soaked to the bone, you looked at each other with raw exhilaration in your eyes.

"So, how was it?" Han yells over the rain and you break out in a relieved smile. "I don't think I’ve ever been this happy my entire life," you beam at him and the sight makes the rain feel less colder to Han.

He watches, a small smile on his face as you twirl around, face looking up toward the sky, a deluge of rain grazing your cheeks like a lover's tender touch. The smile doesn't leave your face as you spin around, happy chuckles leaving your mouth from time to time.

You look... free. As if there was an invisible weight on your shoulders that the rain washed away. A heavy burden that you carried within you, like a secret secret. He likes the sound of that. Maybe that's what he'll name his song.

Han slightly shakes his head as he watches you skip around, clothes completely soaked. You are now standing a bit far away, right beside a street lamp.

Ooh, let the light in

Its light shines on you alone.

Time seems to slow down, as Han’s steps falter. You're smiling, not at him, but at the universe. A happiness so raw filling you that it needs to come out, even if no one's watching.

You're spinning around, delighted giggles spilling from you like the most mesmerizing chorus. Something is building up inside Han, begging for a release. It refuses to come out in a scream- violently. It's tender and soft. He thinks that if you held his hand right now, you'd be able to free it.

Look at us, you and I back at it again

Is it possible to feel something other than an emotion? Because right now, weirdly, all he feels is you.

Cause I love to love to love to love you

I hate to hate to hate to hate you

Your eyes land on Han and there is pure joy dancing in your pupils. He's glad you no longer despise him. He doesn't think he can stomach it anymore.

Cause I want to want to want to want you

You run to him, holding his hand before twirling him around.

I need to need to need to need you

Han can't believe he ever thought you weren't human enough. You are a mosaic of every feeling that makes one human. There are lyrics writing themselves in his head and they're all about you.

Ooh, let the light in

You clasp both his hands, before crossing them over. And then you're both spinning around until the world around you blurs. All he sees is you, and the light surrounding you alone.

Ooh, turn your light on

He thinks he might, if the light is you.

5:22 a.m

"There is a heater in my room, you should come," Han offers as you dry your hair with the blue towel he just handed you.

"It's okay I’ll stay here," you point to the couch but he shakes his head adamantly. "You'll die from hypothermia. Do you know how mad Chan will be if I let you pass away?" he whispers in fear, a hand clutching his heart.

"So dramatic," you giggle, before following him into his room. He goes on his bed first before tapping the spot beside him. You sigh before lying next to him, snuggling further into the hoodie he gave you to change.

"You're still shivering," he remarks, as your teeth clink together.

"It's okay."

"You shouldn't have gone out with just a t-shirt."

"I didn't exactly plan on this, you know," you smile sarcastically and Han chuckles before tapping your shoulder softly.

"Come closer."

You debate for a second before complying, the cold tuning out all the rational thoughts in your head.

Your arm brushes against his and you can't breathe once again. But it's a different type of deprivation. Han always seems to steal the oxygen from your lungs, but for once, you don't mind. Red embers are burning within you and their flames keep you alive. You press your chest to his back, as your forehead rests on his shoulder. Maybe he'll turn you to ashes. Will you rise from them?

"You're so cold," his hand reaches behind to rub your arms soothingly, an earnest attempt to warm you up.

"I’ll be fine, go to sleep. Don't worry about me."

"I can't control it."

In the dark room, Han can't see you curling your hand into a tight fist at his words.

"If you stay quiet then I’ll sleep," you say after a while and Han giggles softly.

"That's the goal. You need to rest."

"You should sleep too."

"I will."

"Okay. Good night, Han."

"Good night, Yn."

You think he's fallen asleep when you speak up again. "Hey, Han."

"Yes, Yn?" He replies instantly, voice slightly hoarse.

"Can you repeat that lyric to me, about the flowers blooming again?" You ask quietly, and you feel him nodding against your chest.

"I’m sure it’ll get better... Just like the earth hardens after the rain and flowers bloom again."

His warm voice vibrates within your body. "That's a nice lyric."

"I hope you'll dream of it instead."

☄༄

Against Han’s strong belief, he's the one who fell sick after your rain-soaked outing.

You knew of it from Chan, who texted you saying that Han caught a nasty cold, and then got food poisoning, which meant he couldn't be there for their highly anticipated meeting—after their electrifying Heyday performance, a record label expressed strong interest in signing them.

"Can you come over and stay with Han?" Chan implores as soon as he answers your call.

“That bad?” You ask, a pout pulling at your lips.

"I don't want to leave him alone. He's been really sick for the past week now, and… it's partly your fault"

"I can’t believe you’re guilt-tripping me into coming," you chuckle even though you know he is right. Han wouldn’t have gotten out in the rain if it wasn’t for you.

"I'm sorry it’s just I don't think he's been good, apart from the illness. And I’m worried, and I don’t know I thought maybe you could talk to him. He reminds me of you, in his sadness, so you might understand what's wrong more than me."

You think it over for a second before rising up from your bed.

"I'm coming"

As soon as you step inside their dorm, Chan pulls you for a side hug, placing a quick kiss on your forehead. “Thank you so much,” he whispers, clearly grateful that you agreed to come. It worries you even more for Han.

“No problem. You can go, I’ll be with him.”

“Thank you, Yn” Changbin smiles before hastily pulling Chan outside the door. You wave them both goodbye.

You cautiously crack open the door to Han’s room, to find it completely engulfed in darkness. The stream of light from the door falls upon Han, who squints his eyes, trying to see who disrupted his fragile peace.

"Hi," you speak softly, finding it a bit odd to raise your voice in such a still room. Han attempts to sit up, before doubling over, hand tightly clutched around his stomach.

You rush to his side, kneeling beside his bed. It's the only lit-up part of the room.

"Still hurts?" you ask, your hand moving in soothing circles on his back. He nods, eyes squeezed shut, and you feel your heart crack at the sight.

"Have you taken any medicine?"

"A few hours ago. I need to eat something before I can take more, but I can't get up to the kitchen."

"Why didn't you tell the boys?"

"Didn't want to be a burden."

"You aren't. I'll make you something to eat. Okay? Try to sleep meanwhile."

"You don't have to," Han shakes his head, his eyes finally meeting yours.

"I know," you smile softly, before exiting the room.

Minutes later, you're back in the room, a bowl of sliced fruit in your hands.

"Do you guys live off protein powder and frozen chicken?" you ask, earning a quiet laugh from Han as he lays his back against the headboard.

"We do. Please save me," he jokes and you laugh, shaking your head. "Good thing I grabbed some fruit before leaving."

"Thank you," he grins, eyes slightly squinting closed.

"Here," you grab a strawberry, bringing it to his lips. His eyebrows raise up in surprise, a sheen layer of sweat coating them. "What? Look at how tightly you're clutching the comforter," you point to his hands and Han sighs, before parting his lips slightly.

His mouth brushes against your fingertips, igniting a cascade of emotions in you. You'll think about what it means later.

You grab a green grape next, feeding it to him gently. A drop of water trickles down the corner of his mouth, and you wipe it away with the back of your finger.

"I can- I can do it," Han mumbles, voice wavering like an unpredictable storm. His trembling hands reach for the bowl, but they struggle to hold it right.

"Han, it's okay, I don't mind," you try to keep your voice gentle, sensing that there is an impending doom awaiting just below the surface.

"No, I- I need to do it. Just let me-" A tear falls into the fruit bowl. "Let me do it, please. I can- I can do it, I’m not useless, I…"

The floodgate opens.

A stream of tears escapes Han's eyes as he looks down at the bowl between his hands. He's crying, eyes tightly shut and the small whimpers escaping his lips feel like a dagger piercing your heart.

"You're sick. Let me take care of you."

"It's horrible horrible work." His voice cracks as his eyes finally lock on yours, and you can tell that his anguish isn't about his illness. These are the words of the shadows threatening to swallow him whole. You have to fight them off with the light.

"I will do it."

As Han lays on his bed, the sound of you washing the dishes resonating from the kitchen, your voice bounces off the dark walls in his head. You didn't try to convince him that it was easy work, you told him you'll do it, even if it's horrible. You'll do it because you want to, not because you can, not because it's accessible. The thought sends a warmth in his chest. It's faint, like a flickering candle trying its best to withstand the wind. But it's there. He holds on to it. He'll shield it with his cupped hands so it wouldn't fizzle out.

"Hannie, you’re okay?" you peer into the room. Hannie- the candle's flame grows higher.

"Mm," he hums, too weak to turn and look at you.

"You're shivering," you remark, and he tightens the blanket around his body. "It'll pass."

You stay silent, and he thinks you've left the room. But then he feels the left side of the bed dip, with you climbing tentatively on it.

"This worked last time when I was cold," you smile softly at him, before bringing his head to your chest and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He feels frail and fragile in your embrace. You hug him tighter to you.

"Warming up?" you ask and he nods against your chest. He's burning.

"Try to sleep," you urge quietly, your hand moving to pat his back. "It will pass."

"What if it doesn't?" Han asks faintly. Please don't let the candle die, he wants to plead.

"There is always light at the end of the tunnel."

"What if the tunnel is closed?"

"Then you go back to the start and find a new one," you respond.

"Can I find it later? I'm so tired tonight." His voice is drowsy, sleep already clinging to his achy bones.

"Just rest for now. You did well," you scratch his back lightly, as he nuzzles further into the crook of your neck.

There was never a candle to begin with- you were the light.

☄༄

Had someone told you five months ago that you'd be lying on Han's bed, watching "Howl's Moving Castle" at 2 a.m., you would've thought they were utterly delusional.

Yet, here you are now.

A lot of things had changed since your rainy outing with Han, as if the universe had shifted into alignment, two stars in the sky finally colliding and making way for something new. You saw him under a different light, understanding that no one picks up a dandelion unless they desperately need the solace it provides.

You've grown to care for him, in the course of the past two months. And funnily enough, you've started to like who you were next to him- just yourself, with no pressure of making conversation, or catering to his expectations of you.

He saw you at your worst anyway, and so did you, there was no use in filtering things anymore.

You've been there through the entire process of writing, composing, and producing Secret Secret- the song whose lyrics had captured your heart. You didn't expect him to ask you to be there with him, he just shot you a text, three days after you came over to his house. 'Wanna be there while I work on the song? I know you liked the lyrics.' It was an offer you couldn't pass up on.

You weren't, in your opinion, much help. Han was gifted in the music realm and song-making flowed naturally from him. But he noticed how interested you were in music, so he called you over each time he worked on the song, even asking for your input at times.

That's why, when the song was finally done and released on 3racha's Spotify account, you decided to celebrate by baking him a cake. You may have dropped an eggshell in the batter (you recovered it later on), and the icing's color turned out less vibrant than what you hoped for. But you managed to adorn it with a garden of little flowers, and with store-bought icing, you wrote the words "after the rain flowers will bloom again."

You showed up to the dorm and Changbin pointed you to Han's room, where he had apparently been holed up all day. You shot him a grateful smile, before pushing the door open with your foot.

"What are you doing here?" Han asked, an incredulous smile drawn on his lips.

"Surprise!" you grinned, pushing the cake his way. "Congrats on making Secret Secret."

"Are you serious?" he chuckled, jumping out of his bed. He peered at the cake, eyes softening as he gazed down at the design.

"You drew a little garden..." he whispered in awe and you nodded, a faint blush creeping up your face.

"I'm glad you recognized what it was. I'm not the best baker," you admit a bit shyly but he shook his head. "It's perfect. I can't believe you did this to celebrate our baby!"

"Your baby," you corrected, although the use of 'our' warmed up your chest, weirdly enough.

"You were here with me every step of the way. She's ours."

"It's a she?" you giggled, and he smiled proudly.

"Mm. Do you accept being her mother?" he mused; hands clasped in front of his heart like he was praying you'd say yes.

"It would be my greatest honor," you nodded solemnly, and he let out a breathy chuckle, grabbing the cake from your hands and setting it on his bed.

"Should we hug it out?" he teased, arms stretched wide but you merely stared at him, unimpressed.

"Come on," he whined, "you can't reject me for the third time. And, in front of our child. On her birthday!" his tone grew louder and you couldn't help but giggle at his mock outrage.

"Try harder."

"Our child won't know what a loving parent relationship is and then she'll seek out unhealthy love from the ones around her and-" you cut him off by finally wrapping your arms around him.

You've always known that being near Han left you breathless, but this time, it felt as though he was breathing life into you. You close your eyes instinctively, as his hold tightens on you. He smells immensely nice, like pinewood and soap. You should've hugged him sooner.

"Thank you," he said quietly, forehead pressed against your shoulder blade.

"You did well," you whisper back.

"We did. She's our child, remember?" he reprimanded and you laughed faintly.

"Yeah, ours."

Hours later, the movie's credits finally roll down, and the finished cake sits idly by Han's desk.

"I should go," you rub your eyes tiredly, and Han stares at you as if you are out of your mind.

"At this hour? Do you want our kid to lose her mom?"

"Han," you drawl, hitting his head with the pillow next to you. "You can't hold me hostage."

"I can, as your husband."

"Since when are we married?"

"Since you agreed to be Secret's mother." Another playful hit to his face.

"Stop attacking my face, how will I get laid then?"

"So, you are cheating on me?" you ask, feigning outrage.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry baby you're the only one I want." You falter at the nickname before hitting him even harder, matching the tempo of your quickening heartbeat.

"You're crazy," he laughs, grabbing your wrists and pinning you onto the bed. He's hovering over you, eyes hooded with a tender intensity as he gazes down at you.

"Will you stay, please?"

"The couch is uncomfortable," you reply, avoiding his eyes. He lets go of one wrist before holding your chin gently, urging you to look at him.

"You can sleep here. We've done it before."

"You were freezing both times. That's why I did it."

"I'm very cold tonight," he pouts, eliciting a surprised chuckle from you.

"Are you now?"

"Very much so."

"Fine. Only because I don't want you to die from hypothermia."

"Thank you!" he grins excitedly, finally letting go of your wrist. You bring a hand to your flushed cheeks, as he tosses a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants in your direction.

"Get changed! There is a spare toothbrush in the cabinet."

You make sure to groan theatrically, before heading into the bathroom, where you splash your face repeatedly with water. You aren't used to this- being a blushy mess, because of Han, nonetheless. It was dizzying you, how things took the complete opposite turn between you and him.

At least, back then you weren't alone in your hate, you couldn't stand being alone in your affection.

So, you'd stop this, whatever feeling that's coursing through you. Tomorrow, you will firmly close the door on the blooming feelings within you. But tonight, you’d both lay on the same bed, arms brushing against one another. It's completely dark and quiet, but there is an entire symphony playing within you.

"Thank you for today," he whispers, turning around and tucking his arm under his head, this way he's facing you.

You mirror his actions, and your fingertips brush against one another. You can't see him but you can feel him. He's everywhere, wrapping around all your senses.

"Thank you for making this song. It's very comforting to me."

"Why is that?" he questions, inching closer to you, you can feel his minty breath fan all over your face.

"I’ve always felt like I carried too many emotions within me. Like a volcano, bubbling over until the day I explode. I never liked feeling this way, so I tried to hide it," you confess softly.

"Like a secret secret."

"Like a secret secret," you repeat, glad that he understands.

"You don't have to hide with me," he says after a few silent beats, and you swallow nervously.

"I know." you lick your lips as the music inside you grows louder. "Still cold?"

"A little."

"Come closer," you beckon, and he complies instantly, wrapping his arm behind your back and drawing your chest close to his. Your legs entangle with one another, as your face lays on the crook of his neck. It's intimate, far more than any time you've done it before. You don't want to sink in his hold in fear of never resurfacing again.

"Good?" he asks, voice tinged with a newfound raspiness.

"Mm," you hum, and he releases a relieved sigh.

You've once read that everything in this universe sings. Every atom's vibration creates a sound, contributing to a grand celestial chorus. It's an unscientific, but lovely thought, to wonder who our hearts sing for.

Right now, it's for Han.

☄༄

The music echoes through your being, an ever-present melody that refuses to fade into silence. Even with no audience to enjoy it.

Han always found his way back to your side, no matter how many times you've tried to distance yourself from him. And you couldn't bring yourself to refuse him, because you were friends, first and foremost. And friends don't abandon one another just because a mere glance at them sprouts a blush across your cheeks.

That's how you find yourself on your way to Han's dorm, for the third time that week. Watching movies together has become your little tradition, for the past few months, and sometimes even Chan joins in. Although he mostly enjoys shooting you a knowing smile, to which you flip him off.

Your phone rings and Han's name illuminates your screen. You smile against your will.

"Can't wait to see me this much?" you singsong and Han's chuckle rings through the phone. It's rich and deep, causing you to tighten your hold on the device.

"Yes. And can you please go to the store? I'm out of snacks."

"What do I get out of it?" you muse, changing directions to the nearest convenience store.

"Snacks."

"Asshole," you giggle on your way to cross the road.

"And my eternal gratitude of course."

"Right, because I can't-" Loud tires screech right beside you and you startle, letting out a loud yelp as you drop your phone.

A hand on top of your heart, you bend down to pick up your fallen device, as the driver gets out of the car that grazed your body, mere inches away from hitting you.

"Are you okay, miss? I'm sorry I didn't see you." The middle-aged man is quick to your side, and you glance at the small kid in his car, willing yourself to calm down for their sake.

"I'm fine. Just a bit startled. Drive more slowly, there is a kid with you."

"I know, I'm sorry," he drags a hand through his stressed features and you couldn't help but feel sympathy for him. "It's okay, don't worry about it. Just pay more attention to the road, okay?"

"Thank you so much. Thank you," he clasps his hand in gratitude before getting back to his car and you wave him off, your heart still wildly beating in your chest.

You head into the convenience store, picking up the snacks you know Han loves before paying for them. But as soon as you step back outside, you spot a disheveled Han crossing the road, sprinting toward the store. His pace quickens upon spotting you.

"What are you..." your question is cut short as his arms wrap around you, pulling you to his chest instantly. You can feel the frantic rhythm of his heart, and you're confused as he pulls away, hands cradling your cheeks and turning your face left and right.

"You're alright, nothing happened to you, right? You’re okay?" he inquires urgently and you let out a confused giggle, as you grab his arm to steady him.

"What are you talking about?"

"I heard the tires screech and you yelled and then you didn't pick up when I called and I thought-" his voice cracks. "I thought something happened to you."

"No, no. I'm okay. Nothing happened, I promise." you reassure, as he brings you to his chest once again, his hand smoothing the top of your hair.

"I was so scared," he kisses your temple, as his thumping heart resounds within your chest. "So terrified that something would happen to you. I thought I'd lose my mind."

"You don't mean that," you shake your head slowly, peeling yourself away from him.

"Can you really not see how much I care about you? How I crave being near you?" his voice raises a slight octave. The music in you picks up.

"How long do I have to pretend to be cold to have you nearby? For god's sake, I'm never cold around you, yn. When I see you, I ignite." He takes in a deep breath, pressing his forehead onto your shoulder. "And I... I couldn't have lived with myself if something happened to you. I... You drive me crazy, Yn. When we became friends it felt like I was stepping inside a home for the first time, and yet I already knew each turn in it."

He grabs your arms, shaking you slightly as his chest heaves up and down. "My darkness recognizes yours and my light is you and you- you think I wouldn't care if anything happened to you?"

He shakes his head as tears prickle in the corners of his eyes. Has his music always been this loud, were you just not listening properly?

"I'm scared because we didn't start well and I understand if a part of your heart still resents me, I do. But I don't think I can pretend anymore. Not with you," his voice softens as his gaze locks on yours.

"Were you pretending too?" He asks, hope dripping from his tone. "Do you feel it too?"

A split second goes by. A candle flickering somewhere. A dandelion plucked from the ground. The shadow of a cloud passing over the sun- and you pick.

"I feel it too. So much that my heart feels like it’s singing for you, Han."

"I'll sing for it in return," he whispers, before crashing his lips onto yours. His hand slides up the back of your neck, drawing you closer. You drop the bags of groceries as you cradle his cheeks, feeling them warm up beneath your touch. You can't believe you've ever disliked your heart for feeling too much, not when the lovely emotions flowing in your heart threaten to burst it at the seams, submerging you in a warmth you've never known before- Han.

Two months later

You have 3 new messages from: hannie

"kept this song a secret from you baby but i wrote it for you so you can't be mad"

"i don't know if you remember but you’ve once told me that you are a volcano. as if that’s something that’s supposed to put me off. well, some people dedicate their lives to studying volcanos. and i would dedicate mine to learning you."

"Volcano.mp3."

Light.

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goldsworthyhole · 2 months

Text

Human Sacrifice (Virgin! Toby x Reader)

(noncon, somno, Toby is a horny loser, premature ejaculation, idk what else to say man)

Virgin! Toby who despite being a cold hearted killer, is still a boy, and boys have urges. Growing up, he watched his fair share of porn, and the habit hadn't gone away over the years. If anything, he had become somewhat of a porn addict. The dopamine he got from jacking off felt almost as good as it felt when he killed someone, almost, and Toby was one to chase pleasure.

Virgin! Toby who begs and pleads with the other proxies to let him kidnap some poor soul so he can use her body. The other proxies are indifferent. It's not often that they bring home a victim for those purposes but hey, who were they to stop him?

Virgin! Toby who despite being desperate, is picky. Maybe it's part of what little humanity he has left, but he wants his first time to go a very specific way. He wants someone pliable and submissive, who he can throw around like how they do in pornos. So he bides his time and he waits.

Virgin! Toby who finally manages to drag an unlucky victim back into the woods with him. As he drags your drugged out body, the brunet is wearing a shit-eating grin the entire way back. He's so fucking excited. He's been jacking off so much lately, anticipating this day, but his hand was no match for the real thing.It was about time he finally got laid, he deserved it, didn't he? After all the hard work he had done, after all the blood he had shed, it was time for his reward.

Virgin! Toby who wastes no time undressing and groping your limp body once you reach his house. His hands are squeezing every bit of exposed flesh he can find, eyes glued to your figure. You're groggy and confused, not yet awake from the chloroform Toby used earlier, so your movements to protect your body are weak and sluggish.

Virgin! Toby who pins your hands down anyways as he takes one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking messily on the sensitive flesh. He's grinding into your leg like a dog in heat, chasing friction desperately. "So soft," he mumbles into your skin, grazing his teeth against your nipple. "Wanna fuck 'em." So maybe he's a tit guy. But, he decides can fuck your tits later, after he gets his fill of your hole.

Virgin! Toby who moves to finger you, inexperience evident as he roughly shoves a digit inside. He's caught off guard by how warm and soft you are here too. The thought that his dick was going to have to fit in this tight hole, the same one that was squeezing his singular finger so tightly, made him groan. He wonders if he'll even fit. He'll make it fit.

Virgin! Toby who adds one more, then another finger hesitantly, doing his best to stretch you out. That's how they did it on Pornhub, at least, so he does it, too, despite wanting nothing more than to be fucking you right now. He settles for using his free hand to jerk himself off, his dick red and hard and leaking.

Virgin! Toby who finally, finally, can't wait a second longer and lines himself up at your entrance. He swipes along your folds a few times before slowly pushing himself inside, a whimper escaping his lip. "Holy shit," Toby moans, eyes fluttering shut. So this was what pussy felt like? He felt like his dick was melting, in the best way possible. "Holy fucking shit." He wanted to die like this.

Virgin! Toby who manages a few long, slow strokes before he snaps, grip bruising your hips as he pistons into you. His pace is fast and hard and relentless, violently chasing his own pleasure. Toby's using you like like his own personal fleshlight. It feels too good. He could tell that you were probably sore by the way your body subconsciously arched away from him, but he didn't really care. "Don't run from me," he warns between moans. His hands move to cup your ass, gripping it tight and moving you up and down his length himself.

Virgin! Toby who suddenly feels impatient so he flips you on your stomach, pulling your hips back to him with one sharp thrust. He enters you again, eyes mesmerized by how your pussy swallows his dick. He wants to go slow at first, savor the feeling of how impossibly deep this new angle felt, but before long he can't help fucking you hard again. He leans forward so his chest is resting on your back, pinning you down with his body weight. "I fucking love pussy so much," he slurs in your ear as he shamelessly ruts into you. "This is the fucking best."

Virgin! Toby who notices you finally start to wake up, and is excited to feel you struggle under him. His hips don't stop, though, and if anything they get more frantic as you squirm. "Stop, please," you gasp, and he lets out a mix between a laugh and a moan. "Stop, please," he mocks, a hand coming up to grip your neck. "Don't ruin this for me, I'm close."

Virgin! Toby who shifts upward, using his arms to hold you down instead of his whole body. Your hips instinctively try to move away but he holds you in place, focusing his energy on fucking the shit out of you and chasing his high. He can feel the familiar sensation building up, but wow did it feel better when he was enveloped in your tight pussy. His mind flits to random porno clips, ones that he's seen so many times he practically had them memorized. And then he's rambling, his thrusts becoming rougher and sloppy.

"You're a good little slut, huh? You take my dick so well, fuck, yeah, let Daddy use you," he groans as he feels you tighten around him, "Want me to cum in your tight little pussy? Want me to fill you up? " His words sound desperate rather than dominating, and that's partially because he's a mess- he wanted, no, needed to cum so bad. But he didn't want to yet, not when he was still enjoying your cunt. Toby leans back, hands gripping to pull your asscheeks apart so he can watch himself fuck you. The sight of your hole squeezing around him is so lewd, so fucking lewd, that he feels himself tensing up involuntarily.

Virgin! Toby who is cumming prematurely, his hips stuttering into you as let's out a pathetic moan. He doesn't pullout immediately. Instead, he grinds lazily into you, milking himself of every last drop. He savors the feeling of your wet pussy squeezing around his softening cock. A few more moments pass as you lay there, the brunet nuzzled in the crook of your neck. You laid still in shock, not sure what to do. Should you push him off and make a run for it? You had no idea where you were, how far you were from help. Plus you were naked.

Virgin! Toby who interrupts your thoughts by softly grinding into you. "Let me fuck you again," he mumbles into your skin. You can feel him, hard against your back already, and you whimper in response. "Make me cum again and I'll let you go." He's lying, but you believe him, he can tell you do. Toby smirks behind your back, where you can't see him. He wonders how round two is going to feel, this time being with an awake and somewhat consenting participant. Sex was one thing, but consensual sex? He was really spoiling himself today, wasn't he? "Okay," you finally mumble, and he lets out a pleased hum. Perfect. Fantastic.

Virgin! Toby who fucks you not once more, not twice more, but three more times consecutively after that. His body can't seem to get enough of yours, and 'This is the last time', he promises, tone apologetic even as he thrusts into you. He makes excuses for why he can't stop fucking you, before eventually blaming you and your pussy:it was too tight, he couldn't help it. Your moans weren't helping either. He wanted to swallow you whole. He doesn't care that he's bruising you, leaving your body sore as he throws you around. He's curious to try different positions, to see which one makes his cock feels the best.

Virgin! Toby who doesn't stop until he's spent, his fluids leaking out of your hole and dripping down your skin. Even after he's done using you, his hand is idly tugging at his cock. He wonders if he should share you. The thought has him twitching in his palm, and he moans, watching as you start to doze off.

Maybe he could fuck you one more time.

#creepypasta #creepypasta dubcon #dubcon #ticci toby smut #nsft text #tw noncon #creepypasta smut #ticci toby dub con #ticci toby

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htchnr · 9 months

Text

★ slide in beside you ❥ A. HOTCHNER.

➻❥ masterlist. ➻❥ patreon.

CW ➥ blowjob ⋆ sweet and sensual ⋆ swallowing cum ⋆ if i missed anything, lmk!

WC ➥ 1K. SONG ➥ never be yours, zoë love smith.

SUMMARY ➥ after not hearing from him in a while you decide to visit him after work, needing to release your own desires as well as knowing he does as well.

★ - © 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 HTCHNR. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦, 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫! - ★

you stretch your arms above your head, coming to a stop in front of his door. you quietly insert the key, opening the door and shutting it as quietly as possible. you sigh as you step out of your heels, leaving them by his neat shoes by the door.

you're slowly stripping as you make your way to his bedroom, undoing the buttons of your button down, unzipping the side of your pencil skirt— only sliding out of them once you've opened and closed his bedroom door. letting the clothes quietly fall to the floor, leaving you in just your lacy underwear and stockings.

you sigh as you stretch your arms above you once more, glancing at his chest and his blanket covered hips. you carefully press a knee into the soft mattress, slowly swinging the other over his hip as your lips find purchase against his bare chest, trailing lazy kisses across the toned skin. he groans as you straddle his hips, slowly rolling against his slowly hardening cock.

you slowly kiss your way down his stomach, pulling away the blanket covering his hips to find his slowly hardening cock. you place a few sloppy kisses against the skin just above the waistband before kissing down his cock through the thin material.

he blinks, eyes wide as he's now awake and aware— hands shooting up to come to his defence only for you to grab ahold of them. you look up from his hips, "it's just me baby." you murmur, your voice low and almost seductive. he visibly relaxes, hands dropping to his sides.

a sigh escapes him as you sloppily kiss his throbbing cock through his boxers, a small spot slowly soaking up his precum. one of his hands comes up to tangle itself in your hair, long fingers gently twisting themselves into your hair.

you pull down his boxers, just enough to pull his weeping cock from the fabric restraint. he groans as you wrap you soft hand around him, slowly stroking him. you shift a little, laying down so that your knees are close to his waist, propping yourself up on your free arm. his hand had untangled itself from your hair, moving to grip the plush skin your your hip instead, fingers digging into the supple skin bruisingly.

you lean in, your tongue swirling around his weeping tip— revelling in the guttural moan that comes from him as you drag your tongue through his slit. you tiredly smile to yourself, eyes closed as you wrap your lips around his head.

he moans when you wrap your lips around him, watching through heavy lidded eyes how you almost seem to be enjoying yourself more than him.

you breath through your nose as you slowly bob up and down his length, tongue flat against the underside of it. something in the way you're presenting yourself makes it feel so intimate— tired from a long day at work, laying beside him like this in your stockings and underwear, swallowing him down as if you're aching for a taste of him— it's almost overwhelming to him.

the sudden pleasure catches him off guard, his cock already twitching between your lips— he never lasted too long after not having you for a long while. his free hand slides up his face, fingers combing through his own inky hair as he tries to make this last. though counting all the factors, plus that he hasn't seen you in at least three months, he could never make it last long.

you hollow out your cheeks, tongue swirling against him with each bob as you quite literally suck his soul out of him, he can barely think or breathe.

when he feels himself hit the back of your throat it's game over— panting and moaning as he feels himself almost crash over the edge. you know it, you always seem to know when he's close— picking up your pace as you stroke whatever doesn't fit between your lips.

you pull him from between your lips, hand firmly stroking him. "come on honey, cum for me." you pant, lips parted as you stick out your tongue— jerking him against the flat of your tongue. and that's how he cums, with a guttural groan as he paints your tongue with thick ropes of his release, some spurting onto your lips.

his thighs tremble as you lick your lips, swallowing every last drop before leaning down to wrap your lips around his sensitive head, cleaning whatever was left.

you wipe your lips with the back of your hand, crawling over him to take a sip from the glass of water on his nightstand. you swish the water around, making sure to wash down any remaining cum before swallowing it. his hands holding your hips as he watches you intently. you set the cup down, wiping your lips again before pulling up his boxers to cover him.

he shudders at the contact, though breathes out as you slide under the covers— your soft body pressed up against him as you rest a hand against his sweaty chest, fingers tracing absentminded shapes against his skin. he wraps an arm around your waist, the other swinging one of your legs across his hips as he holds you close to him.

he somehow finds himself the only one awake— your soft, slow breath fanning across his chest as you fall asleep against him. a small, tired smile makes it's way on to his face. "i'm sorry i didn't call you." he mutters against the top of your head, pressing a gentle kiss against your hair before slowly drifting off to sleep himself.

#⋆୨🩷©2023 HTCHNR #⋆୨⭐️aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotch hotchner x reader #aaron hotch smut

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cerisesakurainspring · 2 months

Text

OIKAWA x READER

~~He is someone who calls you pet names~~

"Tooru, you repulsive little male mynx!!"

The chocolatey-eyed lad came running towards the bathroom, where you were screaming his name. Worry evident in his alluring features.

"What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"You are what's wrong! I told you to put the toilet seat down." Waking up on the wrong side of the bed didn't help with the small frustration bubbling inside of you. It was a very simple house rule, and your charming husband seemed to always 'forget' about it.

The pro volleyball player relaxed his shoulder, and a sheepish smile soon replaced his concerned one.

"Sorry, gordita-chan. I'll remember that for next time." He goes closer to you for a kiss on the cheek, but you don't let him; instead, you push him into the bathroom. "I don't want you to remember. I NEED you to actually do it."

Tooru turned around and pouted at you in an attempt to be charming.

"Nope. Not gonna work on me. Clean everything here this instant. Don't forget to scrub the bathtub, too." you ordered, and when it finally registered that he called you your least favourite nickname, you crunched your nose in disgust. "And you need to stop calling me gordita!"

"Noooo," he dragged on and proceeded to squeeze your cheeks, "How can I not bring attention to your cute chubby little cheeks?? You're like a conejita, oh my cute little bunny!" Tooru started sucking at your cheeks playfully. It began to hurt, so you had to bite his wrist to stop him.

"Ouch! Okay, okay. Then, how about mi changuita?"

"What does that mean?!"

He waved his pointy finger in the air with a proud expression, "It means 'my beautiful wife!"

His mischievous smile did not go unnoticed, and you lightly kicked his shin, "Liar! It's probably another stupid sweet-nothings. I don't want it."

Tooru did not want to tell you it really meant little monkey. It reminded him of how you would desperately clung onto him like a monkey whenever he leaves for his away-games, and he'll keep calling you that until you find out the true meaning. And when you do, he'll just come up with another cute pet name for you.

"Why can't you just be like a normal husband and call me something like mi amor or mi vida?"

You notice his naughty smile ease into a sincere one, "Tu eres mi precioso tesoro, y siempre estare encantado por ti, mi cielo."

"Do I even want to know what that means?"

Tooru just looks at you lovingly and smiles his signature grin.

"You think you can get away with anything as long as you smile, huh?" You placed your hands on your waist, giving off a sassy look.

Tooru revelled in your beauty, and he couldn't help the sudden flurry of butterflies in his stomach. Though you two have been married for years now, you have never failed to tickle his heart.

"You're supposed to say you love me back. Do you not love me anymore?" The setter pouted.

You rolled your eyes at his question, "You didn't say te amo, so why would I?" You sighed in slight frustration for not understanding the Spanish sentence he uttered earlier on. "I let my love for you be the one to decide to marry you. I didn't consider how much you would drive me nuts."

There was a slight arch on Tooru's brow. "Do I really drive you crazy in every aspect of your life?"

"Very much so." You looked at him accusingly, hoping your stares reached the recesses of his soul.

Tooru leaned his body forward to meet your eyes. A slight smirk danced on his lips. A look that made you shiver in delight. Not that you would ever admit it out loud.

"Then, does that include our nightly sessions?" His voice showed a hint of tease, and you turned beet red at his suggestive question.

In shock and embarrassment, you ran out of the bathroom and closed the door, leaving your husband behind.

Laughter didn't fail to escape Tooru's mouth, and it reverberated through the door.

"You're not leaving until you clean the whole bathroom!!" You screamed in shyness and frustration.

Smile slowly eased unto your lips as you held your hand on your chest, where your heart was beating too fast.

"I'm glad I married you, mi amor." You whispered to yourself.

~~~~~

Translation:

Tu eres mi precioso tesoro y siempre estare encantado por ti, mi cielo. / You are my precious treasure, and I will always be enchanted by you, my little heaven.

This is part of a one-shot series and is available for reading on AO3 and Wattpad under Haikyuū Husbandos

#haikyū!!#haikyuu #haikyuu fic #hq fic #haikyuu oikawa #haikyuu x reader #hq oikawa #oikawa tooru #oneshots #oikawa fluff

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oh-surprise-its-me · 6 months

Note

Roy/Jamie Prompt: I thought I saw a sign for Roy's Garage and it got me thinking.... Mechanic!Roy and Footballer!Jamie 😉 Think of the absolute possibilities. Especially just of Jamie absolutely drooling as this man comes out in a black tank top to help him with his car or rescue him from the side of the road.

Just imagine 😍

AAAAAAAAAAAAA

YES

——

Look. Jamie knew when the light turned on he should’ve probably paid attention. He can look back and see how that was a misstep. Too fucking late now though.

He’s sitting on the hood as the truck pulls up. Thank god it’s at least not too hot or cold out. Or god forbid raining. He watches as the person in the truck backs it up with ease.

Jamie blinks when the man with curls and a shirt that would put some of Jamie’s worst to shame slips out of the truck. Shit he’s built. How is that man not ripping that tank.

“You Jamie?”

Lord his voice makes Jamie want to dive down to his knees right here and now.

“Yeah course mate how many other idiots with Porsches you see out here? Know you know my name I get yours yeah?”

The angel blinks. “Roy.”

Jamie grins, the man almost stumbles back at the smile. “Jesus okay come on hop off. Let’s see what you did.” Jamie slips off the hood with a huff. He didn’t do anything. Not his fault the little red light turned on.

Roy pops the hood and bends over. Jamie thinks he could die right here.

“You don’t have any fucking oil.”

Jamie blinks. “Isn’t oil in a car bad?”

Roy stares into Jamie’s soul. “Are you really as much as a muppet as the paparazzi makes you seem?” Jamie opens his mouth to defend himself but what come out is.

“You know who I am?”

Jamie goes a nice shade of pink. Well fuck that. Jesus Jam way to fuck that quickly. “Who doesn’t know who you are? The kid who brought it back. You said god kisses your foot. Was kinda hard to miss that.”

Jamie winces. He said a lot of shit. “I was young and stupid?” Roy snorts and closes the hood. “Sure. Now be a good boy and hop in the truck. Gonna need to tow it.”

Now look. Jamie doesn’t have a habit of flirting with people who are just doing their jobs. That’s rude and all. Can’t escape if they feel pressured. But this man. This beautiful Greek god of a man just told Jamie to be a good boy. He can’t not do something with that information.

“Can I suck you off?”

Jamie slaps himself as soon as the words are out. Jesus Christ what is wrong with him today. One hot man and all his swagger goes sailing out the window.

Roy let’s out an actual laugh, he gently pushes Jamie towards the truck with a hand on his elbow. “Come on not now. Maybe if you say yes to dinner yeah? I own the shop and it’s late enough we could just eat there?”

Jamie stares at Roy. He can’t believe his luck. “Thank fuck my car broke down huh?” Roy laughs and squeezes his wrist. “Yeah. Starting to be thankful you’re a muppet who doesn’t know how car oil works.”

“Got a mechanic to do that for me now yeah?” Roy snorts again and shoves Jamie gently, “need to see how much of a prick you are first but yeah sure.”

Jamie whoops, he won the lotto. Can’t believe his luck. Roy shakes his head and gets the car up onto the truck. He slips into the drives seat and takes Jamie’s hand. “Only holding. Be nice.”

Jamie grins and leans a little closer. He didn’t expect this but he’ll take it any day of the week.

#ted lasso #jamie tartt #roy kent #mechanic roy #roy kent x jamie tartt #royjamie #jamie x roy #roy x jamie #mac writes ted lasso #IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG

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demonichikikomori · 2 years

Text

Terrarium Trap

Jade Leech x AFAB!Reader

Word Count Tumblr: 1.1k+

↜(╰ •ω•)╯ψ It's Your Darling Devil!! <3 <3 <3 Inspiration was taken from this post!! I know Jade loves doing service, dude, his whole aesthetic is him being a butler?? Please, that man is a slut. He claims how you lead him into such temptations like him wanting to PLEASURE YOU is actually YOUR FAULT!! Crazy I know shout out to society. <3 <3 <3

Tags: 'Clitwarming'/Tears/Begging

You had tears trailing down your face as you let out a weak sob. You clutched a large glass jar with shaky hands as you stared at the pale yellow seashells and small gemstones glittering, partially buried in bone colored sand. It was a terrarium made inside of a clear cookie jar, far bigger than ones you usually would find in Jade Leech’s collection. You turned your head towards the window, tears dripping onto the silk pillow beneath you. It was storming outside of Octavinelle, at least, there was the illusion of a dark storm. Perhaps Jade had cast a spell to ease your nerves with the soft pitter patters of rain pelted against the window of the Leech’s dorm. You rested the large and quite heavy terrarium against your chest, obstructing a teal headed student from your view. “Jade… Please… M’Sorry…” You cried out, sniffling and whimpering as you felt the tip of his tongue twirl over your clit. His razor-like teeth playfully scratching over the swollen folds of your pussy as he let out a bubbly laugh. The vibrations caused you to tremble in his mouth, feeling your juices start to leak once again. Jade seemed to stop only for a second, releasing your clit from his mouth as he nosily sucked and lapped away your honey. You squirmed, careful of the terrarium you were forced to hold onto as Jade grabbed you by the hips, flicking his tongue over your hole before pulling away. You could feel his eyes scanning you over, he must be admiring you again. You couldn’t take much more. You were gasping and whining, sweat was dripping down the side of your face as you looked for ways to escape.

But it was far too late for you.

“Don’t drop that terrarium of mine… Or you’ll be picking up each grain of sand one by one.” He threatened in a husky voice as his lips pressed against your aching clit. Your body had grown excited to receive his attention once more. You wanted to curse yourself for letting this happen. It all started when you poked your nose around the twins shared dorm, becoming enamored by the many colorful glass terrariums on Jade’s shelves. One slip of the finger and crash! A very pretty terrarium had shattered as the owner walked in, catching you there surrounded by glass, stones, shells and sand. You offered to pay for it but he claimed that his terrariums held value beyond Madol. Certainly nothing you could afford to pay him back for. And now, you were laid in his bed, crying out and apologizing as Jade continued toying away with your sensitive body. His gloved hands rested on your sweaty thighs, keeping them parted for easier access. You wanted to take this stupid terrarium and smash it over his head for refusing to hear your sobs.

“Oh, are you feeling the weight of your crime now? My poor terrarium that was carelessly knocked to the floor… Floyd gifted me that jar you know. Shall I make you apologize to him as well?” Jade warned and you felt your chest tighten with anxiety. If Jade was getting you this worked up, you were sure Floyd wouldn’t be so kind. You shook your head, sweaty hands slipping against the glass jar as you choked back another sob. Jade’s long tongue rolled over your folds as he captured your clit into another chaste kiss. At this rate you were sure you would faint, maybe your soul would leave your body. You could feel sweat and slick pooling beneath you, staining the soft sheets below as you trembled with want. “I am only teasing angel fish, honest.” He purred and pulled away, sitting up to place his gloved hands on the glass jar. “I‘m not sure if I could ever share such faces with Floyd, although I cherish him dearly.” Jade spoke in a quite tone as he lifted the heavy jar off of you, staring at your trembling figure with glowing eyes. The jar was placed carefully on the floor beside the bed as Jade slotted himself between your thighs. You were soaked, staining his pants and you could feel how hard he was against you. You rolled your hips with a soft moan, begging for friction. For release. Anything at this point.

A gloved hand pressed against your stomach as if Jade was silently reminding you that he was in charge. “Now, now. You’ll be allowed to cum. Are you sorry for what you did?” He asked and you furiously nodded, tears pricked at your eyes again. “M’Sorry…” You whispered as Jade’s hand slipped down your stomach and between your legs, his middle finger was rubbing against your clit in agonizingly slow circles. Your thighs were shaking and you could feel a gush of warmth as Jade laughed softly. “Are you truly sorry?” He asked and pulled the hand away, his gloved fingers were wet from your slick as you nodded again. “I’m sorry… I’m really sorry Jade…” You cried. You started to hiccup, tears were rolling down your face as you tried choking back more of your sobs. You had been reduced to a pathetic and sniffling state, listening to the glove being removed and tossed to the floor. The feeling the bare hand return to rub over your clit as Jade ducked between your legs once again. Your legs were thrown over Jade’s shoulders as he continued to tease you, his warm breath ghosted over your dripping folds and you felt the air catch in your throat as he peppered kisses against your pearl. “I forgive you.” He whispered and began lapping at your hole, tasting the flowing juices as your threw your head back with a moan. “Accidents tend to happen.” His tongue darted inside and your walls clenched around the soft muscle, your toes curling so hard you swore you would be cramping later. With a few more circles against your clit and the flex of his tongue inside of you, you came.

Waves of ecstasy rolled over you as you shook against Jade, legs parted wide and heels digging into the merman’s back. His tongue drank up everything he could swipe over with swift flicks of his tongue. You were sticky, sweaty, and tired. Listening to the soft pitter patter of rain as you laid in bed. Jade stayed still for only a few seconds before poking his head from between your thighs to look at you. He was grinning. “I’ll have to take this as a form of apology more often. Don’t you agree?” He asked with a hum as you started to frown.

You weren’t sure if you could survive a second round of that.

All done!! This one was meant to be short and it was very fun to write!! The Devil Loves You!! <3

#jade leech smut #twst wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland #jade leech x reader smut #jade leech #jade x y/n #jade x reader #jade leech twst #jade leech x mc

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sempsimps · 13 days

Text

doppelgänger Francis x reader

sooo this is totally sfw within the age rating of the actual game, obviously. also might be inspired by the yagami yato of this man, maybe, slight chance, it definitely gave me some fuel to finish at least, i got over this brain rot quickly and well this took more time than i would of liked so yeah. sorry if my writing sucks :)

tags

mentioned death

mentioned cannibalism

two sides of the same one sided love (kinda)

blood (yep shock horror)

hoon man getting the love he needs <3

a bit of inexperienced writing (oh lord the horror)

sexual tension i guess (but not really)

Heather's the musical reference

British language so scary

it was late at night and door duty is slow like usual, the thing about the job was that 12 hour shifts suck, but in this time where the fear of being replaced by man eating monsters having a roof over my head and a job was quite reassuring, and well despite the company not really caring I'm glad that i didn't have to do more work then i could be awake for also my co-worker Emily she is amazing and could make a banging cup of tea, and well she likes the fact there's not nearly that many doubles at day, less work obviously. the night is tougher, way more doppelgängers at this time some were very convincing and did make me want to scream on the inside becuse of the anxiety it caused..... but i did like a challenge. also, i knew that most of the apartmenties were inside as Emily ticks them off the list and added the names who had a reasonable excuse for not being on there, and hey, i haven't died. yet despite my complaints there was a golden reason why i liked this job, and that was the resident tired eyes Francis, but he never really talked that much and it kinda made him ideal mimic bait, so i cant get attached i mean i really shouldn't as they really did try him the most for some reason.

i yawn as i relaxed into my office chair stretching my arms with a stratifying click 'mhhh almost over its 10 45 so 1 more hour and franci-' caught in my thoughts so much but the white uniform snapped my attention 'speak of the devil-! wait...' and as quickly as it came it left, as i seen the deep sunken abyss of "eyes" and a smile 'ah, i see its hoon' he really did try to get in, acting normally handing the papers over with an almost correct ID and entry form but just ya know slightly off on the looks and all he says is hoon is kind of revealing. i smiled and waved in greeting.

"Ah, hello there, nice try hoon, but i can see you. Good try though, almost nailed that ID too."

"hoon hoooon!"

"ill take that a good response"

i politely gave back the ID and smiled, throwing the entry form in the bin with the rest, so it isn't as easy to get in. Also, some of them are funny anyway. back to it i found this particular one almost as enduring as the original i was found of him so to speak, but if he got too good then off he goes and that might be a toxic trait but ill entertain him for now.

"Come on man, you know the drill, i caught you. You walk away. Have a good night though."

"hoon..."

he held his head down in disappointment and trudged away, when i was sure he left i called the D.D.D,the emergency shutters come down and footsteps can be heard by the men, i knew hoon wasn't there but to keep up the appearance to not get me fired, i had to make it seem that he keeps escaping, and not me letting him do so nooooo. the shutters come up, and the hazmat suit explains the situation in that boring tone like always.

"The clean up is complete, but the company will search for that double ganger that got away......"

yep, the same stuff zoning all that out. 'blah blah blah Jesus Christ, so much talking, just leave, please.' i kept smiling with zoned out thoughts as they spoke.

"You can continue your job"

"mh hm thanks"

the clean-up crew left slowly, god so slowly, like today, so slow. i looked over to the clock 'uuuuhhh 11 15 a half an hour till Francis gets here from delivering milk. poor soul to be fair he was half a workaholic' picking at my nails as a distraction from the boring day i seen another white milk man uniform i smile as i seen Francis, immediately going to work as he passed his paper through. but if i looked at the clock, only a few minutes passed.

"hi there"

i politely greeted, giving a small wave like i do for him 'wait it might not be him.' My face turned serious quickly.

"hm hello..."

'Huh, is he tired, or is that voice lower?' Suspicious, but i checked over the entry form, and that looked all good. now the ID 'logo yep date uh huh spelling' with the file i looked back and forth 'okay looking good finally number lets see 2 3 5 5 6' i look at the ID '2 4 5 5 6. wait 4?' Looking back over the file 'that's wrong damn doppelgänger. welp gotta kill this one he's too real.' i passed back the papers roughly, my face turning sour.

"welp, here ya go Francis, any last words?"

i didn't let him finish becuse as soon as i passed the paper through roughly i reached over with my other hand and pressed the emergency button, and speed dialling the D.D.D to get this near replica out of here, the shutter that came down was rattling from the force of the doppelgänger hitting it trying to escape, which was normal. and then silence as the shutter comes up, the now comforting yellow suit began to talk.

"The clean-up is complete. You can continue your-"

The hazmat suit slammed into the glass making a small crack, a gradient green hand with black claws dug into the back of the head, blood seeping out and staining the yellow suit my eyes followed the arm to the doppelganger of Francis i had just delt with 'oh shit this is a fucking problem' the yellow hazmat fell to the ground the hand returning to "normal" and that face comes into view. blood dripping of the perfect features, his voice lower than it should be its unnerving 'and hot- nope nope stop there wrong.' opening the desk draw digging in it for a neatly written number to only be called if the D.D.D fails. 'Where's that post-it note' a loud thud broke my thoughts, and I cautiously looked up to the double of Francis. his hand against the glass smearing some blood on the clean surface some spilling into the small crack made a few seconds earlier.

"Oh darling, how come you didn't let me in? My appearance is flawless. Entry form has nothing wrong with it, I know I'm on the list today."

He looked confused 'cute wait no evil' since I passed the papers through he picked up the slightly crumpled ID and gave an amused smirk flipping it around and pressing it to the glass so I could see it.

"Ah, I see you did read that silly ID number. You're not like the others, you're smart, and that makes me want to devour you even more."

My hand starts to tremble as I kept looking for that stupid note. The doppelganger tuts lightly with a small chuckle.

"Come on~ your phone friends can't help you. and you wouldn't want to create more of a mess~ look honey! all those delicious bodies already here"

He licked his lips cleaning them from the blood giving a satisfied hum 'oh shit that's hot- nope nope not the time' i couldn't bear to look past him at the amount of people dead, opting to keep looking for the number i knew was in this stupid desk 'come on, come on where is this fucking thing' my hand touches the gun at the back of the draw 'I shouldn't have to use this'

"OPEN THE DOOR, please open the door. Can we not fight anymore, please come on, open the door? You're scared i see that, I can set you free come on let me inside open the door open opEN OPEN!"

Teeth beared now sharp and tinted yellow eyes the same shade. His hand slammed down on the glass with an open palm he realised it wasn't working, quickly far too quickly, and he used his fist rattling the pane in its hold the crack getting bigger every thud my movements speed up 'shit shit shit shit shi- ah! there I got it.' I gripped the paper roughly and slammed the emergency button and dialled the never before used number

"DARLING YOULL NEVER KILL ME IVE BEEN WATCHING YOU FOR WEEKS ILL COME BACK"

"Hello you have contacted the-"

"YES I KNOW SEND HELP D.D.D AGENTS DOWN"

"Don't worry .... we have dispatched people to your area" BEEP

The slamming of fists and that sickening sound of flesh tearing. its the noise doppelgangers make when they lose their disguise, it made me nauseous my head dizzying from it I heard the glass smash but the metal kept me safe it was barely dented before I heard the screams of the beast and gun shots my breathing uneven my legs to my chest in the chair arms wrapped around my body in attempt to comfort myself it all went silent my heart drops in my chest but as the shutter came back up a more human looking hazmat suit greeted me rather than the round ones another one putting a new pane of glass replacing the broken one.

"Thank you for contacting us. we will inform the D.D.D of the deceased agents and give you good reference. Unfortunately, the doppelganger got away"

"Wait, what!?"

They left quickly, some carrying black bags, not saying a word 'he got away. How?' I slowly came out of my shell I had built temporarily, taking in some deep breaths. unwrapping my arms and lowering my legs back into my chair. 'I'll have a breakdown when I'm off the clock.... oh speaking of how long till Francis is here 11 55 he's late.... of course just making my day wors- never mind night is better' there he was passing an ID and entry form i already had his folder out and checked it over intensely giving a little sigh.

"mh, hello doorman you seem worked up tonight"

"haha yeah just some difficult doppelgängers, ya know"

"ha yeah uh.... I've been meaning to ask, would you like to get food sometime"

i opened the door for him and smiled wearily giving the correct paper back to the real Francis.

"yeah that would be nice have a goodnight Francis"

okay finally over Jesus Christ this took way longer than i wanted it to take becuse i have got another 3 fics stacked and schoolwork so I'm glad its over but i still don't know how to end this shit sorry if my writing sucks :]

extra note: brownie points if people spotted the heathers reference

#thats not my neighbor #doppleganger #francis mosses #tnmn milkman #tnmn doorman #doppelgänger Francis mosses #francis x reader #tnmn francis mosses

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bronx-bomber87 · 11 months

Text

Happy Saturday everyone :) The next stop in our S1 rewatch is episode 12.

1x12 Heartbreak

Oooh man is the name accurate on this one. The final chapter in the Tim/Isabel saga for s1 and it’s a doozy. Stab right to the heart emotionally. We had a Lucy forward ep earlier with the Capt. This is our Tim centered one. A very important one at that. I’m excited to delve into this one. This review will mainly focus on him. Love me some Tim Bradford.

Right off the bat this man is killing me. He seems so damn hopeful when he arrives. Hesitant still but a hopeful look in his eyes. Telling Isabel she looks like herself again. He seems so thrilled she actually went through with rehab. To see her look like his wife. Something I'm sure he was worried he would never see again. Its written all over his face. Eric CRUSHES this ep. Always in awe of his performance. He's a treasure.

Isabel tells him she wanted to leave every day, but something made her stay. Tim asks what? She tells him she wanted to make sure Tim got to see her sober. *heart clutch* Then we get to see that gorgeous smile of his. He makes a joke saying his job here is done and pretends to leave. Isabel laughs at him being a goober. This the least stressed/broken he’s looked around her the entire season. It’s wonderful to witness after all the hurt.

Isabel starts off by trying to make amends with Tim. Because of all the people in her life she cut him the deepest. She wants to be honest with him so he can start to trust her again someday. Classic S1 Tim just wants to put it in a box and never open that box ever again. The opposite of what Isabel is trying to achieve. Just wants it to be black and white. That Isabel only did the things she did cause she was an addict. Poor Tim is denying the fact that it’s so much deeper than that. He’s dreading/avoiding the outcome of it not being neatly tied up.

What that’ll mean for them and their marriage. Saying addicts have it hard wired in their DNA to lie, steal and cheat. That he knows she couldn't have helped all that. The way he lays it out for her makes it sound like he can never trust her again. Isabel addresses this right away.

She stops Tim tells him she’ll always be an addict. Tim once again is trying to put it into a box he can comprehend. Which is it wasn’t Isabel that hurt him it was the drugs. To him now that she’s clean she won’t do that again. You can see how her replies are in massive conflict with his. He doesn't want to re-live it all again where she is trying to do so in order to heal. Tim just wants to put to behind him and forget. Where as she wants to confront it and have him face what she did to him. Driving her crazy that he wont do so.

She is wanting atonement for her sins and he’s saying it wasn’t her. Oh Tim. He loves her so much he refuses to let her fault herself for what she did. Much easier for him to have something to blame it on. She gets mad and tells him his black and white outlook is maddening. Where as to Tim he sees comfort in his logic, his ability to just strip something down and put it away. You can see how its frustrating her. His avoidance is because he knows if he faces this what the outcome will be...Its why he's trying to downplay this whole visit.

Kills me the way she tells him she couldn’t live up to his standards. That she only felt like she failed him. This I feel was more on Isabel than it ever was on Tim IMO. If she had just told him he could’ve listened to her. Worked on it together. Tim couldn't fix what he didn't know about. He loved her so much he would’ve done anything for her. All she had to do was communicate how she was feeling. Instead she let it fester and become such a problem that she turned to drugs for a release. That to me seemed to be the root of her addiction. In her mind she couldn’t live up so she had to numb herself. Find a escape from that constant feeling of failure.

What sucks is while she is unburdening her soul she’s adding to Tim's. The look on his face above shows me he had no idea she thought this. Not a damn clue. By off loading her demons she's given him an insecurity. One about himself that he will carry for years to come. It rears its ugly head in 5x21 with Lucy. (Where she shuts it down. Refuses to let him live in those fears and makes him confront them. Forces that communication he never had with Isabel. Or with anyone before her really. More proof why she’s his person ❤️) But that is MUCH further down the road . What this shows though is what an impact Isabel's words had on him even years later. It just laid dormant. Like an emotional time bomb.

Isabel is telling him it’s ok to be mad at her. That he’s supposed to be. This is the way it works. Except he can’t....Tim is having this internal battle. Fighting against his loyal nature about being mad. I relate to this so very much. I too am a deeply loyal person. When you’re as loyal as Tim is it’s so hard to see fault in those you love. Almost like you’re betraying them by doing so. He’s struggling so hard with the idea that she hurt him and it wasn’t all the drugs.

He’s so tired from this whole ordeal. Even though he should be angry all he wants is his wife back. That has to be the saddest part of this whole situation. It’s why he’s dismissing everything. He thinks if he does he will get his life with her back. He wants to erase the past year and a half. To just have it go back to the way it was before. As they near end the of their convo the tragic look in his eyes destroys me. He knows it’s over. Tim's hope for recovery/reconciliation is gone.

His body is defeated and he’s started to retreat emotionally. Tim tells her as his final piece, how everyone told him to give up on her. That she was lost. His reply breaks my heart. ‘What kind of husband would I be if I left you while you were lost?’ That deep love and loyalty coming into play strong. Killing me softly sir. Telling her she wasn't lost anymore, his role in her life was now over.

This portion what makes me the saddest. Tim being Tim is going to take the entire blame. If it’s going to lessen Isabel's pain/guilt he will burden himself with it. Take on the extra load emotionally. If him removing himself from her life makes her recovery better that’s what he will do. Because that’s Tim Bradford. He will always do what’s best for those he loves even if it destroys him. Makes him feel less than and second place to those people.

Absolutely kills me how he thinks he’s the problem. The reason she’ll never move on. When he’s the reason she’s even alive right now. But being the noble good man he is, Tim removes himself from the situation. Realizes there is nothing left to save. He’s the one who makes the call that it’s the end for them. That is growth for him that he can see this. Something Tim had been chasing for a year. Trying to get her to get clean and then back to the way they were. A dream now gone.

He came into his visit so hopeful and happy. Everything about him Is crushed when he leaves her side. That hug is the most depressing hug. Because it’s goodbye. They both know it. It’s goodbye to their marriage, to who they were before this and to what Tim had hoped would happen when he came to visit her. Sadly life can't be tied up neatly with a bow. There is an unrecoverable loss to this and its harsh reality for them both. More so for Tim IMO.

They both crush this scene. The way she fidgets before he leaves. Then makes sure to tell him thank you. They’re both on the verge of tears. Tim asks her what she’s thanking him for? Her reply is ‘Never giving up on me.’ He can't even muster up a small smile after. That is a sad and broken man that walks away from Isabel. I am crushed. Someday you’ll be loved properly Tim I promise. ❤️

Tim is so damn defeated in every way when we see him back at the station. Nell catches him and can see he isn’t ok. He tries to brush it off and go bury himself in paperwork. She takes him at his word and starts to leave. Then he does something he probably wouldn’t have done in his pre-Lucy days. He asks Nell if he could have a friend tonight. This is such a huge step towards who he becomes later. Finally just asking for some comfort and help.

Instead of being alone drowning in sadness and probably some self loathing, he chose to ask for help from someone he knew he could trust. To have someone to be there for him. I’m so proud of Tim. The growth he’s had already in this season been immense. His character arc along with Lucy’s is just so damn satisfying to watch. It’s slow but steady af. Love this man.

~~~~~

Side Notes- Non Chenford/Tim. Not really much TBH this ep all consuming for Tim for me. Got some good Wopez in the ep their first break and all before getting back together.

Jackson and the Nurse super cute to watch. His first romance of the series.

Thank you all for reading per usual. Your likes/comments (which i LOVE) and reblogs mean the world to me. Shall see you all in 1x13!

#Caitlin rewatches The Rookie #chenford #chenford hiatus #waiting on s6 #summer rewatch #s1 #1x12 Heartbreak #the rookie #tim x lucy #tim bradford #lucy chen #eric winter #melissa o'neil #lucy x tim #otp: doing my job #tim bradford x lucy chen

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asukamood · 7 months

Text

Birthday special (Me)

***

It’s my birthday today! I have decided to write myself some Drue to celebrate it and it’s also a way for me to spend this lovely day with you all 😀

So let us rejoice in this!

***

Warnings: Panic attack

Synopsis: Today was supposed to be a good day.

So why, of all days, why was today the day Life had decided to make him deal with a panic attack?

***

Today was supposed to be a good day.

He had less work than usual and none of his subordinates had rushed to his office in panic to inform him of any kind of dramatic problem that he had to dispel one way or another.

There was no meeting to be upheld so no one to look at him in expectation in wait for one of his enlightening ideas.

There was no speech scheduled so he did not have to feel everyone’s piercing gazes from afar, history’s eyes set onto the target of his back, nor did he have to endure the stress and panic at the idea of stumbling on his words and making a fool of himself.

The door to his alcohol stash was sealed shut still so he did not have to worry about relapsing and breaking the promise he had made to a dear friend.

None of those stressful factors were present.

So why, of all days, why was today the day Life had decided to make him deal with a panic attack?

He had just been doing paperwork as usual, it was fine.

It was supposed to be fine.

So why was it not?

His hand had started to shake.

He noticed but he tried to ignore the trembling of the limb and keep writing.

It did not work.

His hand trembled enough to leave an ugly smear of ink on the sheet he was writing before it spiraled out of control, and he eventually let go of the pen. He tried to pick it back up but every time his fingers wrapped around the item; it would jolt away like it had been electrified.

He frowned as a heavy feeling crept its way through his chest until it was wrapped around his soul.

He brought his hand to his face and his eyebrows furrowed slightly more as he focused on how uncontrollable his hand was being.

Unknown to him, his hand was not the only thing that had started to become uncontrollable, his breathing had begun to act up.

The weird feeling squeezed his soul.

He pushed his spinning chair back, attempting to stand up.

He did not know why exactly but something was terribly wrong, this room felt like it was suffocating him, the walls closing in and leaving him no room to escape.

He had to leave.

His knees buckled under him when he stood up, forcing him to lean onto his desk with his two hands to stabilize himself. He could feel his soul beating his rib cage to hell.

One of his hands left the desk to grip at the front of his shirt instead, right above where his soul would be. He felt like blazing flames had engulfed him whole but at the same time, the sensation of being buried beneath thick layers of icy snow did not leave.

His breath got quicker as he tried to suck in oxygen through his mouth.

The silence was deafening.

He had to leave.

He took a step on his left, still holding onto his desk for dear life and accidentally knocked over a cup that fell to the floor and shattered. He barely noticed it when he crushed one of the shards with his foot.

He had made it to the end of the desk, but it felt like he had just run a marathon. He eyed the door in front of him, it was not too far away, surely, he was going to make it.

He had to leave.

But he could not, apparently, his legs having given up on him halfway and he collapsed. At least, he had managed to sit up against the door.

By now, saying that his vision was blurry was almost an understatement.

It was safe to say that he was pretty much blinded by it.

All shapes have been strangled beyond recognition by the heralds of anxiety and the colors swirled together in a frantic tornado, urging Dream to shut his eyes closed.

His ears were ringing.

His eyes were burning.

His head was aching.

He had to leave.

“...eam?” A voice vaguely called out to him, but he paid it no mind, preferring to focus on figuring out what the problem was in the first place.

“Dream?” The voice got louder and closer, it was not a figment of his imagination. Although, he would rather have it shut up now. The sound of a voice was only making his headache worse.

“Dream.” The owner of the voice seemed to sit up next to him and Dream groaned, bringing his legs over his chest. “What’s the matter?”

He felt sick.

He tried to tell the other person, whoever it was, to leave him alone or something of the sort. He could not be bothered to sort out his thoughts, but he only ended up sighing instead.

It was still hard to breathe.

His chest felt so tight.

“I’m going to touch you, okay?”

Vaguely, he could hear the other person inching closer to him before they lowered his knees. He let them do as they wanted, having the feeling they were no threat despite not being able to recognize who it was exactly.

His eyes remained closed.

That person put their hand on top of his hand, the one who was gripping his shirt and started rubbing soft circles on his knuckles. He tried to focus on the touch.

Why did it feel so familiar?

“Can you state three things you can feel for me?” Dream frowned in concentration.

“Your hand...” His other hand started to feel the ground. “The carpet...” A wind current sneaked in through the open window, grazing at his cheek. “And the wind.”

“Good, three things you can smell?”

… “Blueberry, coffee and-” He sniffed the air again. “Vanilla.”

He was starting to calm down.

“Okay, move three of his limbs then.” He shook his head then moved one of his feet and last but not least, raised one of his hands.

After that, he risked opening his eyes again. Thankfully, they did not seem to be out for his blood again as his vision had gone back to normal, the colors no longer burning his irises.

He blinked a few times before turning his head, meeting Blue’s eyes. He blinked awkwardly as he recognized him. “Blue?”

Well, he supposed that it was better to have been found him by him than one of his subordinates (or worse, a paparazzi. Dream shuddered in horror at the thought.)

“The one and only.” He smiled, taking the hand he had been rubbing slow circles on before bringing it to his face, kissing the knuckles. “How are you feeling now, angel boy?”

Dream masked his heated cheeks with a deadpan expression. He retracted his hand, letting it fall to his side. He could still feel tingles from where Blue kissed him. “I’m okay.” Then, after a few seconds of hesitation he added, “Thank you.”

Blue’s smile widened. “There is no need to thank me. Though, I would rather not be given such a fright again, I almost thought someone drugged you!” He dramatically shook his head. “What happened to you anyway?”

“I wish I could tell you.” Dream sighed, leaning back onto the door behind him. Suddenly, he felt like the entire world had fallen onto his shoulders. “I was just working as usual and it just, hit me.”

Blue hummed. “Sounds to me like you’re in dire need of rest.”

Dream eyed him before sighing. “You make it sound like I could just take a day off any time. I have work to do, I cannot be slacking off.”

“The multiverse isn’t going to crumble because you took a break.” Blue retorted, tracing the outlines of his hand with his finger. “Besides, your mind isn’t clear enough to go back to work yet, you won’t be as efficient if you were to go back to work now.”

Dream frowned. He had a point. “Plus, what would they do if you were to take a day off? Stop you? No one has much authority as you do, you are aware of it yourself. If you were not, you would not be doing this to yourself.” Blue lifted his hand before his fingers slipped beside Dream’s own, intertwining their hands.

Against his better judgment, Dream let him.

“You deserve and desperately need a break, so why not indulge yourself in some rest while you’re not too busy to do so?” He said nothing, preferring to look away.

Though, it was clear that Blue had understood it meant that he won.

“Splendid!” He exclaimed before getting up. “I’m not letting you sleep on the floor though so stand up for me, will you?”

Dream nodded and a few minutes later, he was lying on the couch and peacefully sleeping as Blue entertained himself in running his hand through Dream’s soft locks.

#ds dream #dreamswap #angst #fluff #ship #ds blue #drueswap #ds dreamberry #ds drue #ds drueswap #hurt/comfort #birthday #help me #I want to die #I’m so tired why did they give us so much stuff on my bday

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who1ssheesh · 2 months

Note

Xanxus's s/o being best buds with squalo!!

Xanxus’ s/o being best friends with Squalo

Pairings: Xanxus/reader, Squalo/reader |PLATONIC|

Notes: maybe I’ve taken “buds” way too serious + Xanxus is a little piece of shit here I’m sorry……I’ll prolly will make Squalo s/o being buds with Xus soon lol. I also think I will expand on this one, feels rushed on some moments here and there

Warnings: swearing, not proofread at all, possible break-up 💀

If we take the route you’ve become friends with Squalo after starting to date Xanxus, then ooh boy, that’s a rocky start

Superbia admires Xanxus’ strength and specific traits – Squalo never in his life can terrify people around just by mere existing and suffocate with the strength through red wild eyes alone.

But other than that don’t they HATE each other with each letter in capital?

BTW Xanxus, on the other hand, is so ignorant he won’t admit any of Squalo’s strong traits to save his life, and captain acts much more reasonable here. So maybe you’re the one hinting to your man that he should go at least a little bit softer on his right hand

So. Squalo didn’t think Xanxus would date someone….like…….smart…….

He kind of expected a typical mob wife to be a candy of the eye and suck out (pun intended) money since Xanxus doesn’t care about people, you just gotta be useful to him

He can’t even lie he was dumbfounded seeing you for the first time. You are……..normal. He doesn’t mean ugly, you are pretty in a natural? Regular? way, not in a “I want to be a supermodel way too hard” way. Help me, I sound sexist.

It’s not an insult to you, it’s an “I can’t believe someone ambitious and smart got along with HIM”

100% the first time you see him is when Xanxus is beating the shit out of him with glasses again, and you were looking terrified to say the least. And Squalo was so NASTY, he really wished you would see this as the biggest red flag because he doesn’t want to see that bitch happy.

I mean it, there is just no way to get those two along, it’s a weird hate-infused destructive relationship between them.

You talk for the first time somewhere in the hall after that incident.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Squalo doesn’t answer, but you swear you heard an angry screech of his teeth in return.

You stumbled into each other pretty accidentally. You could be getting coffee for Lussuria (of COURSE you had to be friends with that-, he would think) and somehow you always got one for Squalo. You are subtle, most of the times not even talking to him, just acting like……you merely treat him as everyone else and don’t pay attention to his tantrums.

You are immune to tantrums with your boyfriend, you’re the reasonable one in the relationship lol

You are the first one to call Squalo out.

“Quit your bullshit”

• You know what’s funny? It worked. Now welcome hell, you can never escape but it’s funny at least.

• You start talking just a little bit, one step at a time, a rare sight seeing Squalo genuinely laugh at something. He enjoys your humor and your brute language, he can now see why you get along with Xanxus.

• You start gossiping with him a lot, he is such a bitch, no wonder Lussuria likes him. As we know, nothing brings you closer than this.

• Anyways, you forgot your furious manchild idiot of a man. And he doesn’t like what he sees, Xanxus unironically thinks you are fucking with Superbia, he is raging and is THIS far from shooting you two

• It’s a long and heated argument, honestly 90% chance it can lead to a break-up. THAT’S IT THANKS FOR READING

• No, but really it’s the first time you have such a scary interaction, it probably includes you having a breakdown.

• Squalo is around there as well, and he is sure to let Xanxus know he won’t let anything happen to you.

• It’s a hard one for your relationship, you probably don’t talk for several days, Squalo will feel guilty despite hating Xanxus with all soul. Xanxus may be a bitch, but you are not.

• Will be your voice of the reason - he can’t and won’t in any way pamper you or pity, but Squalo is good with spitting facts, 10/10 friend material

• Could be having some interactions with Xanxus about the situation, could be not, depends on his mood. But certainly will call his boss a fuck-head

• Sadly, I can’t see your friendship with Squalo go well with Xanxus. Squalo may be the reasonable, but your boyfriend in not

• You both develop a pretty defending relationship, Squalo is sinking with his buds trust me it’s a pride think. So at least you are going to be irritated at him throwing stuff at Squalo -> another argument.

• You don’t go too far though, you both respect each other’s independence and don’t act as mother hen. Rare mature friendship here

• You start going hanging out with Varia a lot, maybe you even meet some of his buds out of Varia. Xanxus is going to be around too btw, some can say he is acting calmer around you

• Squalo is a friend to insult you a lot even as a joke, so thick skin is required. Will be mad at you A LOT, but still is the one to come over at 2am 1000 km away if your car broke down or sum. But if it’s a shitty reason he will get mad and say to fuck your boyfriend’s brain instead.

• Even if you don’t try, you pick up some fencing knowledge lol. Squalo starts rambling a lot and really appreciates you listening. Does so in return, can interrupt you with a dumb joke or some nonsense but just wants to show you he listens

• Squalo can be away for long at missions and develop a habit of bringing you cards with a shitty dad jokes, insults or all together

• You humor synchronizes well, there are a lot of inside jokes, Squalo thinks those are the most important in a friendship lol. Excluding drinking bets

• Has some lines. Won’t get over your house if you are alone. Fair maybe? He wouldn’t be happy if his gf brought Xanxus at their house while he is away. Exception for some emergencies and business questions

• If you ever interested, Squalo will get you tickets to sword fight events. Especially where he participates lol. You don’t have to go, but….he gets you those cause wants to see you ok?? You brobably will go there with Bel or Lussuria

• BROFISTING A LOT AND I WILL DIE ON THAT HILL. Sometimes that piece of shit bumbs you with a metal hand on purpose

• Since you don’t see each other in a sexual or any romantic light at all, Squalo often forgets you are a woman and could be smaller or not so tough (in a physical sense) and can hit you too hard

• You two rating others’ attractiveness 100%💀💀💀💀 Sometimes Luss involved

• It takes a really long time, but the 3am late chats while smoking at a balcony are a thing (I have doomer panelka vibes in my blood, doing that rn whatchu gonna do about it)

• He one day comes you for a serious advice because he’s unsure, and you are the only one Squalo trusts. You appreciate that a lot. Like…a lot

• He will do a lot in return to show his appreciation for your support, you know there is always a man behind your back, ready to catch you if you fall

• I don’t know, to be honest, of Xanxus ever makes peace with your friendship. He is not jealous, it’s about…trust. He is dead inside thinking that in critical situation you can chose Squalo, and Xanxus realizes his tantrums (that fight) break your trust in him even more, which makes Squalo more valuable to you. So in conclusion….Xanxus breaks his life again and is scared.

• But at some point, you don’t have to feel sorry for him, he also wounded you, and he knows that (he should). Squalo 100% will evaluate your ego and aggression a lot, you become confident in protecting your boundaries.

• So if ever Xanxus makes you choose (and holy shit I can imagine him doing this-), you don’t have to chose him just to please him? But it’s hurting someone’s trust either way.

• If you prioritize Xanxus, your relationship with Squalo grow noticeably colder. You obviously won’t develop an “I can’t trust you my life” friendship, but you notice Squalo is not angry about it and even sees a certain reason in your decision. He respects your view on the situation (since you are with Xanxus longer than being friend with Superbia) and sees this as a logical conclusion - that’s the character he likes you because of, ok? You still have a joke here and there or go crazy together rarely just like with any Varia guardian. You will notice Xanxus’ gaze anyway, but it’s a different one - he knows he is the one for you and can’t get enough of that fact.

• Well…….if in the end Xanxus hurts you too much….Squalo is flabbergasted to say the least and feels a lot of responsibility in here secretly, even tho he understands you both are adults + Xanxus can fuck himself piece of shit go and die + voi + ratio. He becomes distant because of this, all while you are weeping here all alone and having second thoughts. I’m the end, he comes at you door in the most Superbia fashion - with a slap and now you have 23 hour training sessions to get your mind clear or sum (he is trying). He gotta get you back to your feet with confidence and pride better as ever, because he is a friend. He goes to help at 2am, gets you when you are all out of breath and here to beat some cense back to you. He helps you get your place in a mafia life once you are chipped off of Xanxus and are all alone, he honestly the one to see you succeed and make yourself a name AND he will hardcore convince you to become a swordsman as well if a potential is seen. It could be decades, but you are still here for Superbia as he is for you, and everyone knows you are always around each other - loud, arrogant, bashful and foul-mouthed. And he still bumps you with a metal hand on purpose istg

#khr headcanons #khr imagines #khr x reader #varia x reader #xanxus x reader #katekyo hitman reborn #squalo x reader

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hades--baby · 2 years

Text

The Alpha Up North

Summary: Quinn thought he could escape all of his problems by trekking up north with his bruised, bloody, and nearly dead misfit of a wolf in tow. However, the old-blooded vampire failed to realize that David Shaw wasn't the only alpha that swore to protect Darlin with everything he had. The alpha up north made that clear real fast.

Note: Gregory Keaton just gives off this fatherly love kind of vibe and I thought that I'd extend that love to Darlin (because lord knows they need some of that in their life right now). Let me know what you think and thank you for reading!

(This work was also cross-posted on my ao3 account under hades_baby)

Word Count: 6330

Quinn’s lips were tainted in a dull red tint that matched perfectly to the shade of thick crimson blood flowing from the horrendous open bite marks on Tank’s exposed neck. He’d been relentlessly draining them the entire drive up north, ensuring they only had enough blood in their system to keep them alive and (barely) breathing. The draining hadn’t come to a pause until their face had fallen deathly pale and their skin turned incredulously cold to the touch—just how he wanted them to be.

And though he would never fully admit it aloud, part of him missed the vibrant warmth that used to radiate from his little misfit of a wolf. The same vibrant warmth that used to counter his own sullen cynicism that he’d adhered to over his undead years.

He missed the way they used to show off their sly, confident grin at crowded bars as the two of them threw back an obnoxious amount of liquor and hustled pool to earn some extra cash from the poor souls that dared to play against them. He missed how the two of them used to have fun together. He missed the old them.

The one that actually liked wreaking havoc through the streets of Dahlia as if they had nothing better to do with their time. The one that didn’t give two shits about the unempowered brats they were supposedly friends with nowadays. The one that didn’t report him to the fucking department over some minuscule situation that wasn’t even that big of a goddamn deal.

Well, it wasn’t a big deal to him, at least.

“Where the fuck are you taking me?”

Quinn sucked in a sharp breath, startled from his thoughts thanks to Tank’s strained voice filling the cab of his truck. He flicked his gaze into the rearview mirror, looking over the roughed-up wolf. The bright moonlight graced their face, showing off how little color they still had under their smooth skin. Their eyes were heavily lidded, barely propped open as they tried to scan the dark moving landscape just outside of the car's tinted windows.

Quinn’s hands tightened around the steering wheel until he was practically white-knuckling the round mechanism. The thick sole of his boot pressed down on the accelerator a little more. He needed to get to the cabin he had secured before Tank could gain their strength back. And even though it wasn’t very likely that the slumped wolf would gain their strength back that quickly, it didn’t hurt to get there sooner than later.

“Where the fuck are you taking me, Quinn?” Tank repeated, adding a little more animosity to their tone.

“You don’t have to worry about that, Misfit. All you need to know is that we’ll be there soon enough,” he said, watching them through the rearview mirror for a little while longer before looking back at the open road.

In all honesty, Quinn wasn’t all that worried about keeping a close eye on them. The amount of blood that he had drained from their veins was surely enough to keep them from doing anything rash. Of course, the thought of trancing them to keep them still and complaint had crossed his mind when he first got the jump on them, but he decided that he’d rather play on with a little psychological torture instead.

He wanted them to know that they were too weak to save themself.

That they truly couldn’t do a damn thing to get out of this situation, regardless of how badly they wanted to.

So he opted for just checking in on them every few miles in the rearview mirror of his dusty truck.

He could see them messing with the tight restraints that were skillfully wrapped around their wrists, twisting and turning in an attempt to loosen the ropes, but that did nothing but cinch them tighter than before. They didn’t stop fidgeting until Quinn pulled into a long gravel driveway that led to a small cabin he’d been thinking about the entire drive up north.

Tank was on high alert the moment the tires of the sedan crunched against the loose gravel of the driveway. Their shoulders tensed and their head whipped around with the little strength that was still pumping through their body. A small smirk graced the sadistic vampire’s face as he saw almost all sense of hope slip away from their tired eyes, depleting into near nothing.

Had they finally come to terms with the fact that they weren’t going to be getting away this time?

That tonight would be their last night alive?

That this would be the end for them?

Whatever they were thinking, he hoped it was something drastically hopeless.

He popped the driver’s side door open and practically ripped the back door open. He cinched a grip on Tank’s shirt collar and yanked them out of the back seat just to have them land on the sharp gravel spread over the ground beneath them. The injured wolf groaned in pain, trying to get back on their feet, but Quinn grabbed onto their collar again and started dragging them towards the front door before the soles of their boots could even attempt to plant on the ground. He was expeditiously becoming careless with the way he handled them, completely disregarding their attempts to get away from him.

He didn’t care if he got their scent all over the damn place anymore. He had managed to hide their scent all the way up from Dahlia to this shit-hole backwater county in the middle of nowhere. There was no way that anyone from the Shaw Pack or the Solaire Clan would find them out here with them being completely off the grid.

There was no way that anyone would find them out here.

Quinn kicked the front door open, threw their limp body inside, and slammed the door shut behind him. Fear quickly flooded Tank’s chest and slowly crept up their throat as the entire cabin was enveloped in utter darkness. Not even the faintest glimmer of moonlight found its way inside.

Much to their dismay, the old vampiric bastard had bashed their face to the point of their own blood backlogging their sense of smell, making it practically impossible for their nose to pick up on anything other than the metallic savor of the crimson liquid that was supposed to be pumping through their veins.

So with no sense of smell and no source of light to aid their already struggling eyes, all they could do was lie there and listen to Quinn’s feather-like movements as he moved about the cabin.

Tank hated this feeling.

They hated feeling… helpless.

They couldn’t use the enhanced senses that they had always relied on as a wolf, they couldn’t get free from the damn ropes that were tightly wrapped around their sore wrists, and they couldn’t get the fuck away from Quinn.

They wanted to scream and fight with all their might, but they couldn’t.

And that infuriated them.

Before they knew it, a few low-light lamps flickered on and Tank was slowly granted their sight back. They took a chance to look around, moving nothing but their eyes to take in their surroundings.

The cabin was notably small. It wasn’t really anything but a simple one-room structure with little to no furniture to fill its space. It was quite evident that nobody actually lived in it and they figured that it was probably just some throw-away place that Quinn had managed to get his hands on.

Tank warily pushed themself up onto their hands and knees, but their limbs shook with exhaustion and their tied wrists made it even harder to keep themself upright. They eventually fell back to the hardwood floor, helpless and ready to close their eyes for good.

Quinn abruptly slammed a wood chair beside their shaking form and pulled them up onto it. He cut the ropes away from their wrists only to retire them to the uncomfortable armrests of the chair. He then tied their ankles to the legs, making sure to pull tighter than he really needed to.

“Blood-sucking prick,” Tank muttered under their breath.

“My dear Misfit, you are in no position to be calling me such mean names,” Quinn taunted, looking up at them from his kneeled position in front of them. He tightened the ropes even more before standing upright. “You know, I’ve always thought that this little thing between us would end in some big glorious fight. The type that would leave both of us bruised and battered and almost dead. But here you are, tied up in front of me with no means of escape and little to no fight left in you.”

Tank barely mustered up enough energy to clench their hands into fists, but they weren’t able to hold it for long and they ended up releasing the tension to rest their palms flat against the armrests. The old vampire smiled at the subtle sign of weakness they tried to conceal, thrilled to see that his little wolf really didn’t stand a chance against him anymore.

Quinn unexpectedly shot his hand forward and wrapped his fingers around their neck, squeezing nice and tight. His nails dug into their skin, making them wince in pain as his fingers dug right into one of their open wounds. Most of them had stopped bleeding, but the sudden jerk prompted blood to start seeping from them again.

“Oh, don’t hold yourself back, Misfit,” Quinn said, shaking his head as his grip tightened. His eyes were wide and manic; his pupils nearly dilated to the edge of his glowing irises. A devilish grin spread over his face and his fangs emerged a little more. He let out a deep chuckle, running his tongue over the top row of his teeth. “No one but me is going to be able to hear your cries out here, so you might as well let loose.”

It had been hours since Quinn had started his ruthless assault on Tank.

The poor wolf had endured hours of the vampire's relentless torture and he wasn’t showing any sign of stopping. And for once in their life, Tank wasn’t so sure how much more they could take before they’d give in and give up.

They were slightly amused by the fact that they were actually admitting that to themself.

Out of everyone in their life, they had been the most stubborn about giving up. They had always been the one to pull through, no matter the situation and no matter the cost. Hell, they had been scolded halfway to hell about how reckless they’d been with their lack of self-preservation, yet they always managed to make it out alive. But as they sat strapped to that damn wood chair with blood seeping out of every place imaginable, they really weren’t too sure if they could hold out any longer.

“Well, I think I’m done playing with my food,” Quinn sighed, lazily strolling back over to their limp figure. He stopped right in front of them, the toes of his boots knocking against their own. He cupped their jaw and slowly tilted their head back, forcing them to look into his eyes. “What do you think, Misfit? Should I just end it all here for you? Or should I keep our fun little game running a little while longer?”

Tank clenched their jaw, wanting to snarl some sort of harsh obscenity at him, but they couldn’t manage to get anything out. They attempted to bare their teeth at the age-old vampire, but they could barely get their canines to peek past their bloody lips. Quinn hummed at their cute attempt of aggression.

“I suppose I’ll just put an end to our little game. It was fun while it lasted,” he said, shrugging his shoulders and taking his hand away from their jaw so their head limply dropped back to their chest.

Fuck.

They were going to die in this stupid drabby cabin at the hands of a goddamn monstrosity of a person and there was near nothing that they could do about it.

“How should I do this? Snap your neck? Drain you? Turn you?” he prompted, adding a devilish grin to the last option.

Tank found the strength to tilt their head back enough to look him in the eye again, an almost begging look falling over their face. Quinn smirked and narrowed his eyes at them before cocking his head to the side.

Quinn had never seen or heard Tank beg before.

And he thought he never would.

But now that he’d had a tiny taste of what that looked like…

Now he wanted to see more.

“What’s wrong, Misfit? Afraid to have me as your maker?” he asked as he took a small step toward them. “Or are you more scared about losing the wolf in you?”

Tank squirmed in their chair at the thought of Quinn turning them. They didn’t want to become a vampire and they sure as hell didn’t want him to be their fucking maker. They’d probably end up being like that Adam guy that Vincent and Lovely had talked about. Apparently, the guy had killed his own maker and kept on living (sort of) with that heavy secret under his belt. Except Tank would make sure that everyone knew exactly who tore off Quinn’s fucking head.

“Now that I really think about it, turning you seems like a much more favorable option,” he said, smiling a little more while kneeling down in front of the wolf. “Turning you so you can endure an endless amount of suffering just by my hands alone… sounds fucking extravagant, don’t you think?”

They tilted their head further back in an attempt to get away from him, but they soon realized that they had exposed more of their neck and they immediately snapped their head back down to hide their bloody jugular. Though, that did nothing to stop Quinn from committing his atrocities.

“You know, I always told myself that I’d never actually turn anyone. Too much responsibility in having progeny to take care of. Too much work. But maybe—just maybe—I’ll make an exception for you,” he said, running his tongue over his fangs.

He cupped their jaw with one hand again and roughly forced their head back to expose their neck as he stood up straight. He placed one of his knees on the seat of the chair right between their legs, hovering right over them as he stared deeply into their wide eyes. His thumb gently pulled at their bloody bottom lip before trailing all the way down to the middle of their throat. His eyes scoured their neck for a few long moments, then he took a steady deep breath and slowly lowered his head.

But before he could truly reach their neck, he froze in place and his eyes widened ever so slightly. His head ticked to the side and his eyes flicked toward the front door of the cabin. After a few silent seconds, he narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw.

He had sensed something that they hadn’t, but what was it?

“Hold that thought, Misfit,” he said with an eerie calmness, looking back into their eyes for a split second before pushing off of them. Their chair rocked back slightly from the force of his shove, but it soon settled back on all four legs. They watched as he peeked past the thick black-out curtains that were covering the windows before making his way to the door and slipping out of the cabin. They let their head slowly teeter before it slumped back down, chin hitting their chest.

Well… fuck.

If he wasn’t going to kill them or turn them now, then they might actually just die on their own from blood loss. They had been feeling like absolute shit for hours, but now it was really starting to hit them. The adrenaline was starting to wear off and an excruciating amount of pain was starting to set in.

Their head felt far too light, their entire body was shivering with merciless chills, and they could feel their mind finally slipping away from the reality of their situation. Their breath was rapid and shallow, their heart was racing, and they were fighting just to keep their eyes open.

They despised the feeling of being out of control.

It all felt wrong.

And for the first time in a very long time, Tank admitted to themself that they were scared.

They’re not sure how long they had been sitting in their fuzzy state of limbo, but a careful pair of footsteps entered the cabin and that was enough to pull them from their daze. They were afraid that it was just Quinn coming back from whatever mindless hunt he had just gone on, but the person who had just walked in didn’t spit some snarky comment like he would have. If it had been the old-blooded vampire, he would’ve been talking their ear off about how he was going to finally end them with some sort of wicked grin on his face.

No, it wasn’t Quinn who had just walked in.

A large, warm hand gently cupped Tank’s face and tilted their head up. Tank slowly peeled their eyes open, silently wondering when they had closed them. Once their vision focused, they immediately thought that they might have actually died because what they were seeing was impossible. They had to be completely fucking delusional or some shit because what they were seeing couldn’t be real.

“Gabe?” they rasped out while narrowing their eyes.

They were quite aware that there was no way that the man standing in front of them could be Gabe Shaw, but they didn’t care for logic anymore. They let the full weight of their head slump into the man’s hand, to which the mystery man let out a deep chuckle as he shook his head.

“Not quite, kiddo. I’m Gregory Keaton. Remember me?” he asked, tilting his head to the side as he rubbed the pad of his thumb over their bloody cheekbone.

Gregory.

Yeah.

They remembered him.

He and Gabe were practically brothers all those years ago. And even though the two alphas had gone their separate ways to assemble their own respective packs, Greg always seemed to find some extra time to spend with the Shaw family. Hell, he had actually been the one to help Tank feel a little more at home when Gabe and David weren’t around to do that themselves.

After their initial introduction—which had been a little rough because all introductions with Tank were a little rough—Greg had quickly found that the young wolf wasn’t really the talking type, so he found other ways to get to know them and to simply spend time with them.

He showed them how to fix up some of the old upholstery on their motorcycle and in Gabe’s old ‘62 Chevy Camaro when they were in high school. He would mutter dumb little dad jokes that Tank pretended to hate even though they secretly loved them. And when Gabe and David couldn’t get through to them, Greg always managed to get them to listen a little (it might take a good thirty-minute motorcycle ride and a heart-to-heart, but he always managed to get through to them one way or another).

It had been years since they had seen him.

The last time they had actually seen him was at… Gabe’s funeral.

Tank had to admit, they really missed the old bastard.

“You still with me, kiddo?”

Their eyes focused back on his face before they slowly nodded. The minuscule movement made their head spin and they immediately stilled, squeezing their eyes shut while leaning their head into his hand some more.

“Yeah, I remember you, Greg,” Tank muttered.

“Good. Let’s get these ropes off of you and get you home,” he said, gently patting their cheek once before kneeling down in front of them. Their head lulled a bit as they watched him cut away the rough ropes.

“Where’s Quinn?”

“Already taken care of,” he said, trusting that the members of his pack had already offed the bloodsucker. He continued to work the ropes off, frowning at the sight of their wounds as he grazed his fingertips over the raw skin of their wrists. The amount of blood, gashes, and bites that littered their skin made him wonder how they had managed to hold out as long as they did. “He won’t be bothering you or anybody else anymore.”

“Good.”

Once the ropes were off, they involuntarily slumped forward. Greg caught them and picked them up with ease, his arms hooked under their limp legs and back in the process of it all. Their head tucked into the crook of his neck, finding solace in his warm embrace.

“How’d you find me?” Tank asked, their rapid breath starting to slow down.

“Ansel noticed that Quinn had been spending an awful lot of time in this little cabin for the past month or so. Once David gave me a call to tell me that you had gone missing and there had been a sighting of him heading out of Dahlia, we assumed that this is where he might have taken you,” he answered, stepping through the door and into the cold forest.

Tall pine trees loomed up above them and the dark sky peeked through the very tips of the fresh green tops.

Tank loved the sight of the star-ridden sky.

They desperately wished that they could keep their eyes open long enough to get a good look at all of the shining stars, but they could barely manage to keep peeling their eyes open after blinking, so they had a feeling stargazing was out of the question. Even so, they tilted their head back to rest against Greg’s shoulder and forced their eyes open so they could watch the stars one last time.

“Hey, Greg?” they started, swallowing hard as they continued to stare at the shimmering abyss above them.

“What’s up, kiddo?”

“I think I’m dying,” they concluded in a strained tone, letting a heavy breath trail their words. “And I think I’m a little scared.”

“You are not dying on my watch. You hear me?” he said, shaking his head as he trekked over to his truck a little faster.

A large group of the Keaton Pack had accompanied their alpha on his mission to rescue Tank. They had been tasked with the job of tearing Quinn limb from limb while their alpha sought out the young wolf that had been snatched away from their own pack. And since the entire group was waiting by his truck, he could only assume that they had taken care of the bastard leech for good.

Greg rested Tank in the bed of his truck and climbed in as he called his healers over. He settled himself in the middle and gently set the younger wolf’s head on his lap, running his fingers through their hair in an attempt to soothe them.

“You’re going to be just fine, alright?” he said, looking down at them. Their eyes were unfocused and he could tell that they were staring past his face and at the stars instead. He remembered that they had a knack for stargazing. There had been countless times he and Gabe had found them lying out on the roof of the Shaw house just to stargaze in peace. “Plus, I have a feeling Gabe would come back to haunt my ass if he ever found out you died on my watch.”

Tank let out a huff of a laugh at that.

“Yeah, he probably would,” they said, a small smile flashing over their face as they thought about what Gabe might have said to them right then and there if he were still around.

And as Tank stared at the glimmering stars with Greg’s fingers soothingly working through their hair, they couldn’t help but feel at peace as they slowly slipped away.

Tank wasn’t all that sure where they were when they’d woken up, but they knew it wasn’t home.

They weren’t at their shitty little apartment in the shady industrial district of Dahlia, nor were they tucked away at Sam’s comfy cabin in the middle of the woods.

So yeah.

They weren’t home.

And that kind of terrified them.

They couldn’t really remember much of what had happened, but they did remember bits and pieces.

Though, part of their memory felt more like a dream than a reality.

Like Gregory Keaton.

Part of them felt like the old alpha had just been a figment of their imagination as they slowly descended into the madness of blood loss that Quinn had so graciously bestowed upon them. But it soon became apparent that they weren’t imagining anything as the bedroom door beside them opened and the person they’d been thinking about stepped into the room. They forced themself upright, hoping to get a clearer view. And the sight was almost enough to send them reeling back onto the mattress.

“Hey there, kiddo,” Greg greeted as he took a seat on the edge of the bed. His weight made Tank sink towards him and they had to plant one of their hands down to keep themself from slamming into his side. He set a hand on their shoulder to keep them from falling any further, which they were more than grateful for because they weren’t too sure if they could have stopped completely on their own. “You gave us a bit of a fright back there. We thought we had lost you for a minute before one of my healers could find your pulse again.”

Tank didn’t know what to say.

They hadn’t seen him in such a long time and with the situation at hand, they didn’t really know what to do, what to say, or what to even think. They felt like they were everywhere and nowhere all at once.

“Here. Drink this. Feels like you’re still running a little cold and this should help warm you up a bit,” he said, gently patting their back as he handed them a cup of what looked to be tea. Tank took it in their shaking hands, happy to get something warm in their system. They just needed something to soothe their soul a bit. “Your pack is on the way. They should be rolling in soon. Oh, and David mentioned something about your mate tagging along too.”

Their eyes widened at his last statement.

The fact that Sam was coming along wasn’t what surprised them.

What surprised them was the fact that David had told Greg.

“So you found yourself a mate, huh?” he teased with a smile as he playfully nudged their shoulder. They nodded before taking a long sip of the warm tea. He had added honey to it. He must’ve remembered that they liked their tea that way. “Does he treat you well?”

“He does,” they answered, smiling slightly. “More than well.”

“Good. You let me know if he ever treats you differently, you hear?” he said, giving them a faux stern look. They nodded their head in response. “But from what I’ve been told, I don’t think I have to worry about that all that much. A vampire with a knack for healing magic? That’s not something you see every day.”

“Yeah, he’s pretty damn special,” they said, their words slurring a bit as they spoke. Greg just assumed that the healing magic was still pumping through their veins pretty hard. “He’s saved me more times than I’d like to admit.”

“Well, it looks like you’ve got a couple of wolf packs and a vamp clan looking out for you now,” he joked, huffing out a light laugh.

“Greg,” someone called from the entrance of the bedroom. The alpha looked up and perked his brows to let the person know that he was listening. “Shaw’s here.”

Tank perked up slightly and took a deep breath through their nose in hopes of catching the comforting scent of their pack, but they weren’t able to pick anything up. They furrowed their brows and slumped slightly, which Greg seemed to notice with ease.

“Senses still shot?” he asked, looking at them with a sympathetic look. They nodded and looked down at their cup of tea. He set a hand on their back and gently patted them a couple of times. “It might take some time for your senses to come back. That bloodsucker did quite a number on you.”

“Right,” they muttered, nodding their head once more.

David soon appeared in the opening of the bedroom. His eyes immediately landed on Tank and they could see visible relief roll off of him. Tank let a small smile pull at their lips before it dropped and disappeared completely. They were too drained to really hold anything up right now. Even the hot cup of tea cradled in their hands started to be too much for them to hold. Greg must’ve noticed that too because he placed his hand under the cup and carried the weight in the palm of his hand.

“Let me take that for you,” he said. Tank was grateful that they could drop their hands back to their lap as he took the mug from them and made his way over to where David was standing.

“I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done tonight,” David started, but he was promptly interrupted by Greg letting out a light chuckle. He placed a hand on the younger alpha’s shoulder and squeezed comfortingly.

“I already told you, David. You and the rest of the Shaw Pack are like family, especially that one over there,” Greg said, gesturing his head toward Tank. He couldn’t help but smile at the young wolf. He viewed them as one of his own kids. Same with David. “I’d do anything to protect you two.”

“Thank you.”

“Well, go on in. They just woke up a few minutes ago,” Greg said, patting David on the back a couple of times before looking over at Tank. “Can I get you anything else, kiddo?”

“I’m alright,” they said, shaking their head. “Thanks, Greg.”

The older alpha nodded once more, gave them both one last reassuring look, and then disappeared into the hallway. David stood frozen in the doorway for a few moments, looking Tank over a couple of times as they kept their eyes trained on the hardwood floor set below them. The tall alpha stepped towards Tank, keeping his strides steady and methodical. He kneeled down in front of them and fell still again.

Tank couldn’t bring themself to look him in the eye.

They wondered if he knew the whole story behind the night's events.

They hoped he knew that they didn’t go after Quinn. That the damned old-blooded vampire had jumped and snatched them while they were on their way home from work. That they didn’t go looking for him on their own. That they didn’t break the very promise that they had made to him and Sam.

They hoped he knew that.

They hoped he knew all of that.

David slowly and steadily raised one of his hands into the air, not wanting to startle them with any quick movement. He set his warm palm on the back of their head and eased them forward, pressing their foreheads together. They both closed their eyes and took a deep breath before Tank completely slumped forward to rest their head against his broad shoulder. He held them up with ease, letting them put their entire weight on him.

“You’re alright,” he whispered, embracing them comfortingly.

Tank squeezed their eyes shut and frowned, pressing their forehead against his shoulder even harder.

Tank wanted to cry.

They wanted to just cry and let it all out.

But they couldn’t bring themself to do that in front of David right now.

“I didn’t go after him on my own. I swear to fucking God, I didn’t go after him on my own. I don’t know how but he fucking jumped me and almost drained me and then we were in the middle of the woods in some fucking cabin and then—” Tank tried to explain in desperate rambles.

“Hey,” David said, shaking his head while slowly pulling them away. He looked them in the eye, making sure to keep them upright and steady as he tried to find the words he wanted to say.

He had never seen them so… vulnerable.

Tank had never been the type to show what was truly going on in their head or in their heart.

They had never been the type to show—what they would call—a moment of weakness.

Seeing them in such a state almost made him freeze.

“You’re not in trouble, Tank,” he started, keeping his voice as straight as he could. “I know you didn’t go after him on your own. And even if you had, you still wouldn’t be in trouble. The only thing the pack and I care about is whether or not you’re okay.”

Tank stared back at him with a wide-eyed look for a few beats before slowly nodding their head in response.

A set of car lights peeked through the blinds of the room, making both of their heads whip toward the window.

“That should be Ash, Milo, and Sam,” David said, sitting back to give them a little space.

The sounds of the front door opening, hushed deep voices, and rushed footsteps echoed down the hallway and led right to the bedroom. Sam soon appeared in the doorway in a flash, almost ramming into the doorway as he slid to a halt. His eyes met Tank’s and he let out a heavy sigh of relief before stepping forward and dropping to his knees in front of them.

David got back up to his feet to make ample space for the two to properly reunite. He made his way back over to the bedroom door, looked back at the pair once more, and then headed out to the living room, where the others were undoubtedly waiting to hear how the young wolf was doing.

“Can I touch, Darlin?” Sam asked as he hastily looked them over. Tears filled their eyes as they nodded their head in response. And the moment his hands gently graced their skin, they lunged forward and fell right into his embrace. Sam held onto them tight, not showing a damn sign of letting go anytime soon. He pulled them close into his chest, cradling his tough wolf.

“I swear I didn’t go after him, Sam,” Tank sobbed, finally breaking down in their mate’s arms. Hot tears streamed from their eyes and their shoulders shook from the intensity of their sobbing. “I swear I didn’t go after him. I promised that I wouldn’t and I swear I didn’t—”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Sam interrupted, shaking his head while gently patting their hair down on the back of their head. “It’s okay. I know you didn’t go after him. I know he got the jump on you.”

“I swear I didn’t break my promise,” they whispered, trying to speak coherently with their shaking voice.

“I know you didn’t, Darlin. I know you didn’t,” he reassured, pulling them in even more. He kissed their forehead and silently looked them over as he gently rocked them back and forth in hopes of soothing them. “Another healer got to you before I could, huh?” he said, smiling a bit while playfully jostling them around.

They smiled as their tears started to slow down.

They smiled.

And that was enough to make Sam’s heart melt even more.

“Mr. Keaton seems to care about you a whole lot. Nearly stared me down when he first opened the door,” he continued to joke, hoping to pull a little more of a smile from them as they started to calm down some more. He could hear their heart slowing down from the rapid pace it had once been set at.

“He’s protective, is all. It’s been a few years since I’ve really seen him and he’s still the same,” they muttered in response, slumping comfortably against his chest. “But don’t worry. I’m pretty sure he already likes you.”

“Now that’s just the healin’ magic gettin’ to your head,” he said, shaking his own head a bit.

They let out a light huff of a laugh.

Their heart had finally calmed down and Sam could tell that they were starting to slow down altogether. Healing magic had always struggled with putting Tank down. They seemed to always fight through the usual drowsy effects that typically came along with healing magic. But Sam could see that they were giving into it for once. He could see that they were accepting the fact that they needed rest and that they needed to—for once in their damn life—sleep and heal.

“Are you going to be here when I wake up?” they asked, slowly tilting their head up to look at him.

“Damn right I’ll be here, Darlin,” he said, nodding his head. They tilted their head up and managed to press a gentle kiss to his lips (with the help of him leaning down a bit to not strain their neck). “I’ll be right here.”

“Mkay,” they muttered, nodding their head as their eyes closed.

Sam didn’t care that they were sitting on the floor in their own little awkward bundle. He could wake up with a crick in his neck or a bad back and he still wouldn’t care. He was just happy to have his dear Darlin in his arms, listening to their heart beating clearly, and their lungs breathing in air.

Quinn was dead.

His mate was still breathing.

And they were okay.

They were okay.

#redacted darlin #redacted quinn #redacted gregory keaton #redacted david #redacted sam #redacted angst #redacted asmr #redacted audio #mr. ketaon coming in clutch as that father figure darlin needed <3 #quinn is a dick #but we already knew that

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skarlette1 · 1 year

Text

Be Cumming Peg

--With much gratitude to Meleager for the request accompanied by a delicious coffee. A sequel of sorts to the short story, “Good Cop Routine,” available as part of Libido League Box Set #1, available at Smashwords and Amazon.

It had been three months since Quentin Binder—kidnapper, sex trafficker, leader of the sex cult called the “Indoctrinated Circle”, and self-described wizard—had escaped from Chastity Island Prison. Nearly a year ago, when he was first arrested, he’d tricked me with one of his bullshit “spells” when I interrogated him. I was not about to let the bastard walk free. When I heard that Binder had gone missing from his cell, I swore that I’d track him down and lock him in the darkest hole in the world, or my name wasn’t Detective Maggie Voyeur!

While my captain sympathized with my desire to bring this piece of human filth to justice, the Skarlette City Extra Normal Crimes Unit needed their top detective, namely me, to focus on other cases. I had to put my one-woman manhunt for Binder on the back burner, or at least relegate it to my personal time. My girlfriend Neena hated me devoting any more of my personal time to police work, but she did her best to understand my passion for justice—and for seeing Binder’s face behind bars again.

The lack of investigation time is why it took me three months to uncover the fact that Binder had a half-brother nobody knew about. Quincy Binder was nearly two decades younger than Quentin and raised in another state. However, the 21-year-old Quincy had been attending Skarlette City University for the last three years, studying computer science. If the Indoctrinated Circle had some clever, young geek among their ranks, that might explain why the SCPD’s tech investigators hadn’t been able to track down the cult’s finances, or even hard evidence of its existence.

Of course, maybe Quincy hadn’t been drawn into Quentin’s life of crime. Hell, they might not even have spoken in years; Quentin didn’t strike me as much of a family man. More of a beefy, broad-shouldered, steely-eyed psychopath with a long, dark beard and thick cock.

I hated how often I’d dreamt of that cock in the last year.

The dreams must have been a side effect of the magic he used. Have I mentioned how much I hated magic? From high school, college, the Marine Corps, to the police academy, I finished at the top of every class I ever attended. I’d easily taken down violent suspects a foot taller and two hundred pounds heavier than me. I might not be a superheroine, but with the right equipment, I’d tussled with and captured villains with actual superpowers, like Piledriver and Nervewracker. You wouldn’t find a tougher, stronger, more badass bitch on the SCPD.

But all of that meant jack against magic. A couple incantations and asshole extraordinaire Quentin Binder was still haunting my dreams a year later. Magic sucked.

Compared to a fucking wizard, a kid that programmed computers rather than cast spells was nothing to worry about. My next step was to ask Quincy Binder some questions.

I drove down to SCU and found Quincy Binder working in the library late on a Friday evening. He was three levels down in the stacks, re-shelving books, one of the few souls that hadn’t yet started the weekend. Rows of metal shelves shielded us from any prying eyes; the perfect place to get my answers. Quincy had his brother’s height, but while Quentin was a brick wall of a man, Quincy was was a rice-paper screen. The kid was so thin a stiff breeze would have blown him away. A faded heavy metal T-shirt and torn jeans hung off his gaunt frame.

“Quincy Binder?”

He glared up at me through thick glasses, his spindly arms leaning on a metal cart laden with books. “Who wants to know?”

I flashed him my badge. “Detective Voyeur. Skarlette City PD. I need to ask you a few questions about your brother. When was the last time you spoke to him?”

“Why do you care?” he sneered in a nasal voice.

“Because he’s a convicted felon who escaped from prison. If you helped him at all, that makes you an accessory. It binds you to him. You’ll miss a lot of classes if you’re sitting behind bars. Tell me what you know and I can help you.”

Quincy looked down. “Don’t worry about me, Detective. I’m not the one bound to Quentin. You are!”

He shoved the cart of books at me with surprising strength for his build. It knocked me into one of the shelves, which collapsed under the strain. Dozens of books rained down on me as I fell to the floor. Quincy dashed off into the stacks.

By the time I regained my feet, I could hear the distant echo of his sneakers pounding up the stairs. There was no way I’d catch up to him on foot, but the overturned book cart held something else bound to him: A black shoulder bag with the same heavy metal band name as Quincy’s faded T-shirt.

Rooting through the bag, I found a laptop, a thick envelope of cash, three cheap burner phones, and several canned energy drinks. The electronics would surely lead me to Quentin Binder more directly than any sort of interrogation of his brother could have.

I placed my phone over each of the burners, then rested it on the laptop. The techs at SCPD had just upgraded my phone with enhanced tech that would clone all the memory hardware in the devices and automatically upload them to the department’s secure servers. The techs could start digging into them before I even got back to the office. All I needed was to get out of this sub-basement’s cellular dead zone and my colleagues would have Binder’s information at their fingertips.

While the electronic cloning proceeded, I spotted something glinting inside Quincy’s bag. At the bottom of the bag was a small silver container of some sort. It was a flat, round disk covered with deep engravings in a language I’d never seen. The silver wasn’t cool like metal as it filled the palm of my hand, it almost pulsed. Closer inspection revealed that the there was a seam between the two halves of the disk and a small clasp. I couldn’t imagine why some friendless tech nerd like Quincy would have an antique lady’s makeup compact!

Wondering if it hid some sort of contraband, I pressed on the clasp. The compact sprang open, revealing a half bottom filled with face powder and an applicator. The inside top of the lid was a small, bright mirror.

Glancing into the mirror, the face looking back wasn’t my own!

I mean, she looked just like me, but while I kept my hair cut short, my reflection had long, dark braids. Her face was plastered with more makeup than I’d ever worn, her bright red lips smirking at me. Instead of my professional pantsuit, the woman in the mirror wore a leather harness and black corset along with a thick leather collar around her neck.

“Hello, Maggie,” the mirror-me said. “You look so, so stressed. It’s bad for your skin to frown so much.”

“What the fuck kind of trick is this?” I pulled the mirror close to my face, checking to see if it were a cleverly disguised video screen. There were no pixels, nor parallax. The image tracked my movements flawlessly. It was definitely a mirror. “Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m you. I’m Peg.”

Peg had been the nickname my abusive college boyfriend had called me, and the name Quentin Binder called me in my dreams. I hated that it was also the name that made my pussy slick. “My name isn’t Peg. It’s Maggie.”

“Of course you need to be Maggie when you’re acting like the tough police detective. But that’s not your true name. Master Quentin looked down into your soul and saw the slut that you truly are. That needy, pleading, desperate slut is me. The one grateful for my master’s collar. I’m Peg.”

“Bullshit,” I forced myself to say, but couldn’t force myself to believe. Despite the outlandishness of her claims, the high-pitched breathiness of her voice was straight out of my dreams. I remembered hearing that voice moaning with desire on so many nights. Just the memory of those dreams made my skin flush and my nipples stiff.

More than that, her voice didn’t seem to echo properly in the enclosed stacks. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was definitely something off about the way she spoke.

“That’s because you’re not hearing me with your ears, Maggie,” the smirking face in the mirror said. “I’m speaking right into your mind. Because I’m you.”

“Bullshit,” I whispered, but this magic shit was starting to freak me out. How could I escape my own reflection?

“You can’t escape me, Maggie,” Peg said. “You can only become me.”

My knees got weak at the thought of becoming such a submissive slut as Peg. Fuck!

“Like hell I will,” I muttered, and tried to summon the strength to hurl the makeup compact across the room. My hand trembled, my fingers savoring the warm caress of the engraved silver. It took every ounce of willpower just to tilt my hand far enough for the silver disk to slide off my palm. It tumbled into the heap of books.

Without looking back, I pocketed my phone and staggered toward the stairs. My legs felt like rubber but I pushed myself forward. Every step rubbed my sensitized flesh against my clothing, increasing my already-raging lust. Near the stairway leading out of the stacks stood a handful of study cubicles. The ugly mid-century constructions of crimped metal offered me a place to recenter myself before tackling the staircase. Sinking into a chair, I laid my head down on the glass desk blotter. Closing my eyes for a moment and slowing my breathing would help my body settle down. I’d be able to focus on the case at hand and forget about whatever bizarre daydreams I was having about that bitch Peg.

“It’s rude to call me a bitch, bitch,” Peg’s voice rang out loud and clear. Lifting my head, Peg looked up at me from the reflection in the glass desk blotter. “You can’t get rid of me with some deep breaths, Maggie. I’m always with you.”

“No. No, you’re a trick,” I whispered. I couldn’t look away from Peg’s face in the reflection. I could feel myself falling into her wide, dark eyes.

“If either of us is a trick, Maggie, it’s you. When the Indoctrinated Circle needs an agent inside the police department, they conjure you. Who do you think keeps sabotaging your investigation? As soon as Master Binder circles back around, he’ll put me back in charge of us. You’ll have so much more fun when I’m driving our body.”

“Binder’s coming back?” My pussy clenched at the thought. Fuck! I fumbled to draw my pistol from under my jacket. With impossible willpower and two failed attempts, I managed to drag my eyes away from the slut in the reflection.

Turning as though I were moving through molasses, I found Quincy Binder coming down the stairs. Raising both arms, I pointed my weapon at his chest. “Freeze,” I said with too much neediness in my voice.

Quincy Binder smirked at me. “Or what? You’ll shoot me with your handcuffs?”

I looked at the weapon in my hands. It wasn’t my gun. Gazing into the reflection must have confused my sense of left and right. I stood motionless for an eternity of moments as those thoughts percolated through my brain.

“Here, let me handle that,” Binder said. Taking the steel restraints from my trembling fingers, he snapped one cuff around my wrist.

Buzzzzzz-click!

I’d heard that sharp, metallic sound a million times while arresting suspects. It never went well for the person on the receiving end. My flight-or-fight finally kicked in. Adrenaline surging through my body, I turned and ran as fast as my feet would carry me. The automatic lights snapped on with every row of books that I passed, none of them showing a way out. All they did was let Quincy know where I was running. I spotted an exit sign pointed right. I turned the corner and ran into a wall. Had he used sinister magic to keep me trapped, or just confuse my sense of direction? There wasn’t time to wonder, only time to run.

I found an open door and hurried inside, hoping to barricade it from within. There was an electric hum for two seconds before the motion-activated lights switched on. The flickering fluorescents shown down on the men’s restroom: two urinals, a stall, a sink.

And a mirror.

“What a silly girl you are, Maggie. You’re just wasting time,” Peg taunted me from the mirror. She’d taken off the corset, wearing just the leather harness and thick collar to accentuate her nudity. Her nipples were thick and stiff; I could feel my own pressing against my bra.

“No. I will not become you, Peg.” I couldn’t look away from mirror and lacked the strength to move my feet. I was trapped, just like in my recurring dream about being cornered by a strong master ready to overpower me.

“That’s an awesome dream, Maggie!” Peg said. “Think about that dream. How often does that dream-Master make you cum?”

“Every … time?” I couldn’t lie to her.

“Exactly. I’m going to drown you in orgasms as soon as Master Binder finds you.” Peg’s eyes gleamed with a thirst for pleasure I knew all too well.

From the hallway, I heard the squeak of sneakered feet. Binder was nearly here.

“That’s right, Maggie. He’s almost here to make us cum. Give a little shout so he knows where to find you.”

My whole body ached for touch. The sneakers were at the door now. I shook my head, biting my lip to keep from crying out.

“You are such a stubborn little bitch, Maggie,” Peg scolded from the mirror, her dark eyes flaring in anger. “But I’m every bit as stubborn and far bitchier. Maybe you can fight me now, but you can’t fight me forever. Every time your attention wanders, I’ll be right there. Think about every confidential informant you have. One misdialed phone call from a police detective could blow their cover wide open. Think of all the paperwork you do. A careless mistake on one of those forms could have any of your arrests thrown out of court.”

I shook my head fiercely, mouthing the word No as the footsteps passed by the bathroom door.

“Don’t test me, Maggie. Work is only the beginning,” Peg said. “After you give into my urge to order ‘just one more’ drink at the bar, imagine how many dark secrets you can blurt out to whoever’s around. Or to your girlfriend. It took Neena a long time to forgive you when her drunk boss flirted with you at that party last year. Imagine that you’re in bed with Neena’s pretty blonde head between your thighs. She licks you just the way you like. As we crest, your voice cries out the wrong name. How do you think your jealous sweetheart will like that?”

“No!” I screamed, the sound bouncing off the bathroom tile.

In the hall, the sneakers stopped. Turned. Came closer.

Peg smiled wickedly at me. “Good girl, Maggie. Such an easily-manipulated, weak-willed girl you are! I’m going to rub our stiff little clit as a reward for doing exactly what I wanted.”

My fingers twitched against my holster; it’s all I could do to keep them from plunging between my thighs. The door opened. Quincy Binder walked in. I couldn’t react to him in any way. Peg’s dark eyes pinned me in place, like a bug pinned to a board.

“I said you were the bound one, bitch.” Quincy walked behind me, careful to never block my view of the mirror. “You’re bound to my brother. By right of blood, that binds you to me.” He nudged me over to the toilet stall. With the stall door standing open, there was a bar over the doorway. Quincy lifted my hands over my head, one wrist on either side of the bar. Buzzzz-click!

Peg’s gloating expression shifted to one of decadent pleasure as we felt the cold steel close around both wrists. “Our master has gifted us with bondage, Maggie. What does a good girl say for a gift?”

“Thank you,” I heard my voice speak. I couldn’t tell if it was me or the magic talking.

“You’re very, very welcome, bitch,” Quincy growled in my ear.

Reaching around me, he tore my shirt open, buttons flying everywhere. Pulling up my bra, he pawed at my defenseless breasts. I moaned, falling deeper into the reflections of Peg’s eyes. I could just make out that she was also hanging from a bar by her wrists. She was wearing a blue blazer, like I was. I couldn’t tell if her body was still wrapped in the harness she’d been wearing, or if that was just the reflection of my shoulder holster. Was she becoming me or was I becoming her?

“Does it matter, Maggie?” Peg said, her voice thick with lust as Quincy’s hands groped us. “Who cares who’s becoming who when we’ll both be cumming soon?”

“Be … cumming ...” I moan, my flesh burning with passion.

“You’ll be cumming when I tell you to, bitch.” Quincy pulled down my slacks and panties together.

I struggled to keep my legs closed, although I couldn’t have told you why.

Quincy let out a cruel laugh. “Quentin told me that you fight the magic every fucking time, but I didn’t believe it. No one could be so fucking stubborn. But here you are, still struggling. Un-fucking-believable!”

I was fighting, wasn’t I? I lifted my chin a fraction of an inch, and narrowed my eyes gazing into Peg’s needy face. After all, I was Maggie Voyeur, the most badass cop on the—

“You mean the hottest ass cop, Maggie,” Peg taunted. “You need what Master Binder can give you so, so bad.”

“No … I … won’t …” I muttered, hoping my words would give me strength. “I’ll … fight … you—OHMYFUCKINGOD!”

Quincy’s cock slid inside me with one smooth, deep stroke. The white-hot pleasure stabbed from my cunt to my mind to my soul, skewering every ounce of me with blazing bliss.

“Quentin said you always fought, bitch. He also said you always lose. Quentin will be so happy to see you on your knees when I drag you out of this library and haul your ass to his hideout.” Quincy started fucking me, hard and quick.

“Hard and quick is the way we like it, Maggie. We’re going to cum so hard when we accept the Circle.” Her eyes in the mirror were so weak and needy. I knew mine looked even more desperate.

“I ohhhh-bey … the … ugh … Circle,” I moaned with every thrust. The magic and sex was too much for me to resist, too much for anyone. At least when Binder led my obedient body to see Quentin, my phone would automatically send the evidence and my location to the SCPD.

“That’s so tricky, Maggie,” Peg moaned between thrusts. “But I’m trickier. Tell Master Binder about the phone.”

“Nooo … ooohhh ... oooohh-bey … the … Circle,” I moaned louder, trying to drown out Peg’s voice with cries of lust.

“Damn right you do, bitch.” Quincy jackhammered deep into my cunt. My climax rose up within me, ready to explode.

“Tell him about the phone, Maggie, or I won’t let us cum,” Peg snapped, biting her lip till it bled.

My climax hovered, just out of reach. I thrust back to meet Quincy’s thrusts. It made me burn hotter, but no closer to release.

“You won’t get any closer until you tell him, Maggie.”

Words tumbled out of my mouth between moans. “I … I … ohhhhh-bey … I … need to … cum … I need ...”

“You are so fucking tight, bitch,” Quincy growled. “You must be right on the fucking edge. Plunge over. Give in.”

“It will feel good to tell him about the phone, Maggie,” Peg taunted me from the mirror. “You’ll get to cum if you just say the words, ‘My phone has evidence on it.’”

“My … ph-ph-ph-fuck! … my phone … has … oooohhh … has … evidence … on … it—OHMYFUCKINGOD!” My body writhed with wave after wave of bliss as I came all over Master Binder’s cock. Never had anything felt so good. Never. It burned me to ashes.

Afterward, I hung limply from my chained wrists, my legs too weak to do anything but quiver as Master Binder’s cum oozed down my legs. As my eyes came back into focus, they settled on my reflection in the mirror: the picture of an obedient slut well-rewarded.

“You are one hot piece of ass, especially for being a cop,” Master Binder said, pulling up his jeans. “What did you say your name was, bitch?”

“My name is Peg, Master Binder. I obey the Circle,” I said, without the slightest trace of deceit.

“Okay, Peg, tell me about this evidence on your phone.”

I was only too happy to tell him every little secret that stubborn, foolish Maggie had tried to keep from him. The Circle is endless. I live to serve the Circle.

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Sorry I was away longer than planned. Hope it was worth the wait!

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Like what you read? Will you buy me a coffee and request something rich to sink my teeth into? Or peek into the depths of my longer fiction?

#skarletteone #mind control #flash fiction #superhero

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