#also on that note why even is it 10k words and still not finished??? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

torawro · 10 months ago

Text

I’D DIE FOR YOU (AND I HAVE). ( s.a. )

sousuke aizen & black!fem!reader.

cw ━━ ! minors, blank and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT. reader is portrayed as a black woman but you do not have to imagine her that way. using this map of the seireitei as a reference (i searched high and low for a consistent accurate one but it was hard). the first half is set pre-ryoka invasion / pre-soul society arc. the second half is aizen-centric (from his pov told from the 3rd person) and set post-tybw arc, years after he was sealed away in mugen, also including mention of events from vol. 1 of can't fear your own world (a light novel that's post-tybw & can be considered canonical); so all this being said: SPOILERS i guess???? of course you're welcome to read if you don't care about spoilers! somewhat based on 'die for you' by the weeknd & even more loosely based on 'dark red' by steve lacy. contains themes of heavy-ish angst, existential crises (?) & inner emotional turmoil within reader + aizen (separately). descriptions of character death, blood and violence. descriptions of manipulation/mind games. aizen is an unkind man. proofread (i did my best).

word count ━━ 11k

notes ━━ ! the way this fic was supposed to finished a month ago...but life once more gets in my way. and the way that it's this long....i anticipated the max being 10k but i greatly underestimated how long it would take to flesh out my idea. anywho i'm somewhat reentering my bleach era again. i’m not sure what it is but character analyses in the form of fanfiction is my jam rn like i really enjoyed writing this (i got tired of the length by like... 7k words lmao) but i like how this turned out. i've watched & read quite a bit of content that provide explanations as to why aizen is the way he is so i wanted to try my own portrayal of that in the context of canonical events. how i characterized him here is partially inspired by a fic i read about him last year so shout out to them for their support :D i hope i've depicted and humanized aizen well ♡. reblogs + commentary are heavily appreciated!!!!!

THE PAD OF YOUR THUMB SLOWLY glided against your bottom lip, the lingering aftertaste of jasmine tea still on its surface and on your breath. The absentminded motion of your thumb caressing your mouth, as if in deep contemplation, continued as you stared at the clock hanging on the wall above you.

It was past eleven, and the midnight hour only continued to draw near as time sustained its temporal march. And there you sat at your desk, floating in the limbo of your mind that was filled with hesitancy and admittedly, budding anticipation.

Your gaze lowered to the now empty porcelain cup, nothing remaining of its contents except the shriveled remnants of herbs and a few wayward drops of the brew.

Your senior comrade, captain Sōsuke Aizen, was correct in his prediction that you'd take a liking to its floral and delicate taste when he gifted you a jar full of the jasmine tea leaves as well as other ingredients.

The captain of Squad 5 seemed to be correct about a lot of things.

His intelligence and foresight, along with his kind and politely witty disposition, were qualities that you found somewhat charming, and gradually drew you closer to him.

Being the current third seat of the 9th company, your barracks and those of squad 5's were relatively close to each other's, so often you'd catch glimpses of and run into Captain Aizen on a pretty normal basis. Over the years, the conversations that bounced between the two of you expanded past the realm of formalities between a higher and lower ranking officer, and instead ranged in territories from literature, to art, to food & drink, and even to the politics of the government for which they were soldiers for.

Sometimes, you found it hard to believe that you managed to befriend a man like him. A man who seems to have mastered the balance between being a gentle soul, helpful to others, but also possessed enough refined power and skills to be named a captain within the Gotei 13.

Especially a man who wasn’t even of your own squad.

Despite the increasingly friendly relations and generally pleasant conversation, there were few moments where Aizen's words didn't feel quite. . . . real━ he didn't feel real. He spoke eloquently, often relying on figurative language to further illustrate his point and to breathe meaning into seemingly plain and meaningless words. But at times those words, his tone felt stained; stained with some substance or color you couldn't quite place. An enigmatic façade was painted over his speech, and it took too much mental capacity to try and find your own meaning in it.

So you'd often brush it off. Your over-reliance on your own reasoning that 'you weren’t able to come to a conclusion because there is no problem a conclusion could be generated from' successfully quieted your mind’s voice. You'd also frequently blame exhaustion, or your newfound hobby of watching human psychological crime shows during your off days for these subconscious ideas you had.

But you feared that the request Aizen made of you yesterday, the source of your current predicament, couldn't be blamed on any of those things. You looked at the clock again before returning to stare at your empty tea cup. For what reason could Sōsuke Aizen wish to meet you outside of the 1st division barracks? Specifically at this hour? You immediately thought of his question as uncharacteristic of him but prevented yourself from jumping to any further conclusions.

Aizen was a reasonable man, and you were sure there was a reasonable explanation.

With a final sigh of acquiescence, you stood up from your sitting position to retie your yukata before slipping a thicker, dark colored haori on top. You were unsure how cold it was this late at night or how long you'd be out, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

You paused for a moment, glancing longingly at your vanity mirror a few times, clearly torn between a decision, before giving in with a soft groan. Grabbing your favorite perfume, you quickly spritzed the spray onto both your inner wrists, either sides of your neck, and stray areas on your clothes. You’d proceed to make sure your hair was in order and your lips were as moisturized and glossy as a pair of tear-filled eyes before making your way to the door and slipping on your sandals.

Meeting with a captain— with Aizen of all people— in the dead of night resembled too closely to forbidden lovers rendezvousing under a fruit tree to fulfill their desires of embracing one another, with no one but the moon as their witness. The comparison alone caused the apples of your cheeks to burst aflame with embarrassment, and you lightly chastised yourself for even indulging in such an inappropriate train of thought. Such a scenario seemed far too deluded to even be considered ‘wishful thinking’.

But those delusions still seemed to make more sense than whatever other conclusion you have yet to reach.

Making your way out of your personal quarters, you activated your shunpo technique, stealthily hopping from one rooftop to the other in an effort to make it to Squad 1 barracks quicker.

After several minutes, your mind mostly engulfed with the 'what if's', the soles of your sandals finally touched ground, and you stood a few feet away from the massive walls and bridges that connected to and from the barracks. Even at night you were able to make out the bold-printed kanji for the number 1 that was painted on the building.

When you arrived, even from a nearby rooftop, you didn't see anyone around. Feelings of confusion and worry began to creep up and flicker to life in your mind.

But, as if your thoughts were as audible, you felt a light breeze of wind behind you, a familiar sound that indicated someone had made their presence known.

Startled, you reflexively reached for your zanpakuto, when you remembered that you hadn't even brought it with you. It still laid against the wall near your bed, just where you placed it earlier when you were relieved of your duties for the day.

You didn't think you needed it necessarily if you were just going to meet with Aizen, hence why taking it with you slipped your mind.

The flickers of concern were swiftly extinguished as your brain caught up with your body upon realizing who just appeared. A relieved sigh left your lips, a breath of air that seemed to release all the tension that had a grip on your heart and wound tight within your muscles. "Ah! Good evening Captain Aizen. You caught me off guard for a moment there."

"My apologies, that was not at all my intention." The Fifth Division Captain sported a dark colored scarf, his long captain's coat and the standard shihakushō all Gotei officers were supposed to wear. In the sash around his waist resided his own sheathed zanpakuto. His tawny hair maintained its usual part but looked slightly tousled, yet still remaining so in a meticulous fashion that made it look intentional.

The state of his hair alone, and his current facial expression made Aizen look more . . . approachable if that’s how you were to describe it. There was a glint in his eyes that you had seldom seen before.

"Thank you, for making your way down here to accommodate my rather. . . . atypical request. I again extend my apologies if I have inconvenienced you in any way."

You shook your head in reply, "It's alright, I wasn't doing anything too important anyway. Just having a cup of tea and delighting myself in a book before bed."

You glanced downwards at the foot or so of space that was wedged in between the two of you. You forced away the murmurs of your lingering thoughts that took note of how the moonlight and shadows danced across the surface of Aizen's face just right, and emphasized his decidedly handsome features.

"But having a complete and good night's rest is important to be fully functional in all areas of one's performance. Wouldn't you agree?"

You couldn't help but chuckle softly. "Yes, I do agree with that sentiment."

Aizen all but hummed in acknowledgement, letting a moment of silence fill the air before speaking again.

"Shall we be on our way?"

You nodded in agreement, following him as the both of you walked about the First Division grounds. From what you could tell based on your position, your aimless nightly stroll drew you closer to where Sokyoku Hill was located. The area became increasingly more grassy and contained less buildings.

Although Squad 1 grounds weren't terribly far from either of your barracks, you still weren't sure as to why Captain Aizen wished to meet out here. Initially you thought that perhaps he was just fond of this particular scenery, but really it could have been anything.

But still, you believed Aizen always had a purpose for everything he did.

After several moments, his warm voice replaced the evening silence, vocalizing your current thoughts. “I assume you are contemplating why it is I have asked you here, and I’m afraid the reason is quite benign. Truthfully, I just wished for your company. I often go on night walks to clear my head after a long day and thought I might invite you to join me this time, and have a conversation with each other."

Your brows shifted upwards, for that was not quite the answer you were expecting. It seemed too . . . simple. “Really? You just . . . wanted to talk with me? Plainly?”

The Squad 5 captain let out a short, soft laugh at the disbelief that was painted on your face. There was an expression of fondness present in his eyes and in the light smile he offered you. “Yes, exactly. I quite enjoy our discussions actually, they’re intellectually stimulating and relatively pleasant. You crossed my mind, and before yesterday, it has been quite some time since we’ve had the opportunity to unwind and talk.”

You hummed an mhmm in agreement, tearing your eyes away from Aizen’s side profile in favor of the hem of his captain’s haori, watching how it danced in the soft breeze. It seemed to be less distracting than the way Aizen peered down at you from time to time.

"I see. I am. . . . truly flattered by your words, Captain Aizen; you're too kind. Forgive me for asking but," you took longer strides so that you could fall into step next to him━ as if to speak to him more directly, "Why at this time? To talk with me, I mean. It couldn't wait until more . . . . . conventional hours?"

He chuckled again, and answered as smoothly as if he were awaiting you to ask him that. "Unfortunately, today's tasks ran a little long today, so I had to stay at my office later than usual." The spectacled man paused for a moment, before setting his soft gaze on you, "And besides, that completely defeats the purpose of inviting you on a night stroll, doesn't it?"

You ignored the heat flaring up in your cheeks again. Your mind refused to move past the fact that you had crossed Sōsuke Aizen's mind enough times━ or the times that he thought about you were significant enough━ and highly enough to invite you into his realm and indulge in these moments with him, when he very much could have done that alone.

A tender smile appeared on your lips, more towards yourself than the man next to you. "I. . . suppose it does."

The ashen-white moon only rose higher in the sky, providing an ambiance of tranquility as the both of you talked about whatever crossed the surface of your minds. Other times, the stillness of the night did the talking, and you'd listen to the leaves, and the wind, and the crickets sing together in harmony. Gradually as you walked and the beaten path grew more narrow, your figures drew closer together, until you could feel the long sleeves of his haori brush against your own.

You hadn't noticed that the two of you eventually stopped walking and paused under a tree until Aizen struck up conversation once more. When he called out your name in that gentle, velvety voice, you swore your heart was going to lurch out of your chest. The sound of your name rolled of his tongue so smoothly, the desire to hear it again grew within you.

"Uh━ yes, Captain Aizen?"

"Are you satisfied with way things are at the moment?"

You stood next to him, perplexed at his inquiry due to its vague nature. "Um, what. . . . things? I'm afraid I don't understand what you're asking."

The wind brushed Aizen's dark ochre tresses across his face as he took a step towards you, like the breeze itself was pushing him towards you. "Hm, perhaps I should be more clear then. Are you content with being a soul reaper? Are you satisfied with being a soldier for the Soul Society?"

With your brows slightly furrowed in thought, you remained silent for several seconds and overanalyzed his every word, trying to predict where he might be steering the conversation now. The longer you thought it over, the stronger that nagging feeling from within your soul became. The one that often told you what he was asking wasn't exactly . . . it didn't quite feel . . . . .

"This feels like a prelude to another insightful discussion on Shinigami━ and by extension━ Seiretei politics." Your words cut off your own thoughts, as if your mind was trying to sweep something under the proverbial rug.

Aizen huffed in amusement, before lightly shrugging, leaving your statement definitively unanswered.

You sighed as you seriously considered his question this time. "I mean sure, I guess. I'm somewhat satisfied with my job and all of . . . this," gesturing your hands in the air around you to emphasize your point. The 5th Division Captain made another humming noise, indicating that you still had his full attention. He inched a little closer into your personal space.

The mere action caused your next words to die in your throat and a quiet chuckle resounded from his, before your thoughts revived themselves again.

"Of course things could always be better but. . . . y'know. This is just how it is." You weren't quite sure if you should voice negative opinions about the Soul Society so plainly to a senior officer, even if he was the one who asked you in the first place, so you treaded lightly.

The same plainly relaxed smile from earlier remained painted across his lips, held in his chestnut irises was an emotion akin to affection. He seemed somewhat pleased that you were expressing your thoughts with him.

“And you? Are you satisfied, Captain Aizen?” You were unable to keep the teasing endearment out of your tone as you returned his gaze, casting aside the notions of Gotei officer seating and ranks for the moment. The air seemed like it shifted━ towards what, you weren't sure of━ but it kind of made you feel like you were adrift, floating in isolation from everything else around you.

It was still hard to process that you were alone with Captain Aizen right now. . . . at night.

A low hum reverberated within his chest, contemplative in nature as he replied, “Perhaps.”

The wind whistled lowly again, erecting goosebumps on whatever part of your skin happened to catch the midnight breeze. You fought the instinctual urge to twitch towards the nearest source of heat, which happened to be Aizen. Now that would be even more wholly inappropriate than the 'lovers meeting at midnight' scenario.

The silence between the both of you was brief, but comfortable nonetheless. Once more his mellifluous voice cut through the quiet, leveled and calm, like still ocean waters.

“Come. I want to show you something,” Aizen reached his arm out towards you, your spine as straight as if someone stuck a metal rod dipped in ice water down your robes.

The captain's movements seemed steady and slow�� it had felt like time itself had hesitated for several moments. You thought he was going to . . . . well you weren't sure what he was going to do, and that's what you made you nervous.

Was he going to touch you? Cradle your cheek? Remove a stray leaf that happened to land on your head? You were left somewhat dangling in anticipation, not daring to flinch backwards because you felt it would be disrespectful or offensive. You hadn't even blinked, subconsciously fearing that this was only a very vivid daydream.

But alas, when his arm drew near it extended past your head, slightly above you, and held a small branch in his palm it like a delicate flower. You released a breath you didn't know you were holding, but that breath drew short again when your gaze was eye level with his lower neck and chin.

He seemed . . . . closer.

“I think that regarding the condition of the Soul Society," Aizen began in a quiet voice, referencing his own reply to his earlier question, "and therefore my thoughts about it, is akin to this set of leaves on this branch."

Snapping out of whatever stupor you seemed to have slipped in, you exhaled softly before stepping back a bit to look at what he was talking about. In his palm he cradled a wayward branch that grew from one of the other sturdier branches of the tree. The green foliage of its arms had started to weaken and dull in color. The cold air due to the seasonal transition to autumn caused the leaves become brittle, nearing closer to the edge of death.

The sound of just how brittle they were resounded in the air when Aizen thumbed the leaves in between his fingertips, observing their texture with pity laced in his small movements.

"These leaves will fall off as it gets colder. And soon, the rest of this tree will be bare as well. When the time comes, when the right circumstances fall into place, the old die to make way and usher in the new; it's simply the way things are. I think of the Soul Society government is structured in a similar manner."

You hung onto his every word, like he were imparting crucial wisdom to you. Even though you were a bit confused on the last part, and on the connection between dying leaves and Soul Society, you still listened intently, waiting for him bridge the gap between the two.

"The Soul Society as it is now can be thought of as a season. And this particular season, this climate has remained so for several centuries. How can nature continue━ how can we continue to progress when the old have yet to be washed away by the currents of time? It defies that of nature, yes?" He directed this question at you specifically, in search of your agreement.

You nodded your head, tearing your gaze away from the branch and directed it at the grass beneath your feet. Your brows furrowed a little as you mused over Aizen's words. He gave a rather ambiguous answer before but now, his words sounded like vague displeasure and muted criticism. Everyone was entitled to their opinion, and on some fronts, you'd sometimes agreed with the 5th Division Captain. The Soul Society was far from perfect, too much emphasis on nobility and status, the government resembled too closely to an oligarchy . . . But you didn't━ wouldn't voice these thoughts, though.

Instead you hummed quietly under your breath. There was that tugging sensation again. This time it told you that there was something deeper to this conversation than meets the eye. But what could there be? Was there anything at all or were you just overthinking it?

The voice-like sensation in your soul was calling out to you, but you couldn't hear it that well or quite make out what it was saying. It's as if someone was calling out to you in a crowded room that had music playing on the speakers: you felt like if you listened hard enough you could make it out but ultimately, the result would fruitless.

"And when that happens," Aizen continued, "sometimes nature has to be gently nudged back on track to keep things moving smoothly. That may require . . . shaking the tree. Pulling a few harmful weeds from one's garden, so to speak."

"Weeds?" You echoed. You felt like you understood this analogy and therefore what he was trying to say, but at the same time you didn't. Or was it . . . . you didn't want to understand what he was implying?

Because if you were interpreting his words correctly, if he were inconspicuously comparing the higher-ups and the government itself to dying leaves and harmful plants that needed to be removed, then . . . .

"You, dear child, are a mere weed in this scenario."

Wait, what did he just━

Your thoughts were cut short when a gush of air that smelt strongly of Aizen━ warm oak, vanilla, and a kind of musk that you weren't sure how to describe but was still pleasant all the same━ brushed against your face and took you by surprise.

But there was another aroma that arose, steadily becoming more apparent alongside the increasingly painful throbbing feeling you felt in your abdomen.

It smelt metallic. And it was something that you've smelt all too many times before.

It was blood.

Your gaze that was initially narrowed in confusion lowered as it followed the source of this pain. Your eyes slowly widened in as you struggled to comprehend the blade that was currently ran through your torso.

Aizen's blade.

"Actually, instead of weeds, a more accurate and befitting analogy perhaps would be blades of grass. You unfortunately have to step on them in order to reach the weeds you want to remove."

You couldn't really focus on what the captain was saying, because your brain was still struggling to process what the hell just happened. Your hands slowly rose from their sides and shakily grazed the zanpakuto, wanting to believe that if you touched it, it would pass right through your fingers like mist. But no, the sensation of cold steel was as real as the robes you wore on your back. You only just now are processing the muffled squelching sound of his sword impaling your flesh.

You wanted to scream, to cry in pain, to vomit, to push him off━ something. But all you could do was stand there, stunned, words completely failing you. "Wh. . . . what? Why did . . . . you . . . . "

A cough replaced your attempt at a comprehensive sentence, and you tasted iron in your mouth.

Fuck....was this really happening?

"Please don't push yourself trying to talk," His voice was like an index finger to one's lips, similar to a parent's gentle caress to quiet and sooth their child, "You'll only hasten your death. And I'm sure you wish to know the reason for my killing you, yes? You'd have to be alive for that."

'Killing me?' 'My death?' The certainty that rang in his words chilled the blood in your veins, and they confirmed the one conclusion you hoped wouldn’t come true: that you were going to die.

The frigid embrace of fear and dread engulfed you from behind and you shivered, causing the blade snugly lodged in your organs to shift. The pain of that foreign object moving even a little bit shot through your entire body, causing a groan to emerge from your throat.

Desperate to conserve your energy and the oxygen that was becoming a little harder to take in, your breathing became uneven and a little wheezed. Even then, you couldn’t bring yourself to meet the gaze of Captain Aizen to confirm if this was really happening or just an extremely realistic and vivid nightmare. The sight you might be greeted with could be more frightening than the actual impaling of his sword.

As if his betrayal couldn’t actually or figuratively cut you any deeper, just then there was a noise that grew louder and louder within a matter of seconds until it was almost deafening. You’ve distinguished it to be the sound of glass crackling.

Your surroundings formed cracks everywhere on its surface, like it was just an oversized window. Even on the grass you stood on, or what you thought was grass, began to crumble away.

A dumbfounded but panicked look was plastered on your face when your world literally shattered around you, the only remnants of it being you and the Captain.

What was underneath the mirage━ or you should say, the fact that it was a mirage at all━ only disturbed you and increased your perplexity.

Slightly hunched over and breathing heavily, it took a minute to process where you were, but you noticed that now the two of you stood in a formal room that looked like it was used for important meetings. The lights in the room slowly started to brighten, most likely due to motion sensors. Even with Aizen's scent lingering in your nose, you could still pick out a rather stale aroma that hung in the air like dead fruit that hadn't fallen off the tree.

"Is . . . this Cen . . . tral━ "

"You are correct. Where we currently stand is the assembly hall for Central 46, the judicial power of the Soul Society. All judiciary as well as legislative trials and proceedings are held here."

All around the room were seats with partitions, the kanji for 1 through 46 printed on them. In the seat for the 19th member, your gaze caught onto something on the translucent barrier. It was a little farther up so you had to squint your already blurring vision to see it properly.

You saw, and your heart promptly sank as a result, eyes widening once more.

There were splatters of a dark colored substance on the partition━ undeniably blood. And the lithe, bony fingers of an older man laid lifeless, peeking out from the side of the screen like the appendages themselves were trying to escape from the body they were attached to.

That man . . . was dead. That stale aroma you smelt was the stench of death.

It was only after that unsettling epiphany did your eyes dart frantically around the room and realize that every member of Central 46 was dead.

The disturbed expression on your face only intensified as your stare was pulled back down to where Aizen's blade still resided in your body.

" Cap.....Aizen," you uttered, swift to correct yourself. All the moisture in your throat dried up like water underneath the unrelenting rays of the sun. You kept gulping your saliva in an attempt to assuage the sensation, but relief only last for a fleeting few seconds. "Did you ━ you killed them . . . didn't you?" Your question was laced with shaky hesitance and swelled with apprehension, fearing that you already knew his reply even before he answered.

There was a moment of silence and a hum before he replied. "Smart girl."

The muted mirthful tone in his voice sounded like sarcasm, and it was enough to finally draw your attention away from everything else and directly look at him. Almost instantly, you regretted it.

His umber tinted gaze was colder than you remembered. You couldn't find anything in his eyes that hinted that all of this was just a big misunderstanding, or a dream, or that Aizen had a secret sense dark and complex humor.

This was your first, and apparently your last time, that you have ever felt a fear such as this. Your mind was struggling to comprehend this was the same Aizen that spoke with you so gently, full of encouragement and wisdom. The same man that recommended you books to read and gifted you tea to drink and gazed upon you like . . .

Well, none of that mattered now. In this moment, Sōsuke Aizen wasn't the same man anymore. This Sōsuke Aizen was someone else, and it frightened you.

"When?" you croaked, your voice no longer sounding like your own. Nothing felt real anymore. "W-When did you . . . . . how? Why?"

Another noncommittal hum resounded from the spectacled man as he closed his eyes, feigning the action of thinking of an answer. When he reopened them, his narrow gaze returned to you.

"Everyone in the Thirteen Court Guard Squads was previously aware that the ability of my zanpakuto, Kyoka Suigetsu, allowed me to confuse the enemy using bodies of water, mist and even moisture in the air in order to attack. However, that is not my zanpakuto's actual power; there is more to it than just simple confusion. Kyoka Suigetsu's true power is Complete Hypnosis. Essentially, when someone looks at my blade, I am then able to take control of that person’s five senses, causing them to believe that something is real ━ or that something isn't real. In a way, once glancing at my unsheathed zanpakuto, that person forfeits their sense of existence to me. Kyoka Suigetsu is quite flawless in its deceptive abilities."

A heavy silence, aside from your uneven breaths, endured in the space between both of you. You didn't need him to spell out what he was trying to say.

It was all . . . . an illusion. A convoluted, premeditated illusion. And you walked right into it without even knowing or considering, that it was all fake.

The Fifth Division Captain inwardly smiled at the despair clearly written on your face as he watched you mentally put the pieces together. He took your lack of reply as a sign to continue. "The members of Central 46 have unfortunately been dead for quite some time now. And as for your question of why......"

The taller man stepped towards you which inadvertently (or purposely, you began to fear), drove his sword deeper into your abdomen without warning and slight force. You bit down on your bottom lip hard to stifle your exclamation of pain. In an attempt to somehow resist him, with the little strength you had left, your hands automatically took purchase in his oversized sleeves, but it did nothing. You found it ironic that you could feel how warm Aizen was underneath his robes, but his soul was anything but.

" . . . . I believe I already mentioned it earlier, yes? All flowers die eventually and the weeds......must be removed."

At that moment you remembered that tugging sensation that told you something felt off in some instances whenever you talked with Aizen. This must have been what it was. Damn it all. You still didn't understand exactly what bad things Central 46 and the Soul Society have done to cause his actions, but based on what you've been told and your current position, it must have been heinous. Again, you actively swallowed the urge to vomit.

"You . . . you lied. I can't believe━ how could it have all b-been a lie?" Another nasty cough rattled your body, followed by a shiver and a groan.

The brown-haired man slightly tilted his head, like he was truly confused. "Lied? Hmm, well. I suppose you could put it that way based on your limited knowledge of the circumstances, but I wouldn't put it that way. Besides, this isn't really about truth or lies. It is, and always has been, only about the reality of what is. And what is, is that you were unable to anticipate my deception. No one could, because it was outside the domain of your thoughts. What is, is that the current way the Soul Society operates is tainted, and I shall be the one to remedy it."

You drew another shuddering breath and looked down at the ground with a grim expression as your blood continued to pool at your feet. Briefly, you even considered unsheathing yourself from his blade and take the chance to make a run for it, but the chances of you making it to the outside world, let alone coming across someone before you bled out and died were slim. Besides, it was clear that you couldn't even trust your own senses anymore after Aizen demonstrated that he had complete control of your reality.

Which reminded you of something else.

" . . . when?" you asked the same question again, but much quieter than before, despair palpable in your voice. 'When and how did you subject me to your zanpakuto's Complete Hypnosis?', is what you were really asking. And being as intelligent as he was, the spectacled man understood.

Abruptly, with a large palm on the small of your back, Aizen used his gentle hold grip to pull you towards him in order to close the remaining distance, causing him to drive the remaining length of his zanpakuto all the way through until the tsuba of his blade rested against your stomach. You looked like a skewered piece of meat.

You didn't have the willpower to hold back the piercing shriek of agony and physical anguish as tears sprung forth from your eyes. You could no longer tell if your blurry vision was due to your tears obstructing your sight or if it was from being a step away from death's door.

"Do you remember . . . the first time we met?"

The hand that rested on your lower back slowly glided upwards until his fingers found your jaw. With a tenderness that reminded you of a time before his betrayal, he lifted your chin and guided your gaze to look at him directly. His thumb moved to graze your bottom lip just as you've done mere hours ago━ as if he knew that, as if he watched you do it. His thumb was dangerously close to slipping inside your mouth and that both excited and scared you. Your breasts against his, your breaths synchronized with his, your body and his were fully pressed against each other and it made focusing on his question more difficult.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. The first time . . . we met? Sure, with a little bit of effort you could easily recall the first time you formally met Aizen. It was sometime in the spring, and you remembered him running through combat formations with his lieutenant and the rest of his squad. But why d━

A silent gasp left you. Another epiphany, another figurative blade piercing your heart.

Battle formations, and he . . . offered you to join them . . . his zanpakuto . . . . .

Confusion crumbled away, and was replaced with vacant horror and sadness. It seems you've already been defeated, for many, many years now.

Aizen seemed to murmur something under his breath, a pleased sound you couldn't quite decipher. His mouth brushed over yours, rendering you literally speechless, before he closed the distance and brought your lips together. You could barely process what was happening.

It was ironically tragic how soft and skillfully gentle his lips were against yours. The kiss felt longing, like a departure between two sweethearts and their last meeting together. It also felt heavy and final, making you want to cry.

And you did. Silent tears streamed from your eyes and rolled onto the fingers that still held your face so affectionately. The captain reacted by guiding your chin up a little further, dipping his head a little lower, so he could deepen the kiss. You weakly scorned yourself for thinking about how the two of you must really look like lovers now, sans the sword sticking out from your back.

Oh, how cruel this was; how cruel he was. It was cruel for him to kiss you like this, hand still splayed on your back like he needed to touch you stay sane. And how cruel it was that still managed to enjoy it, even as you stood there dying. Your lips moved together in tandem, slow and almost passionate, all while tears stained the apples of your cheeks, drying up the plush youth that once resided in them.

Aizen's tongue had slithered its way into your mouth, and you suddenly felt like crying harder. There was a tart, sweet flavor lingering on his tastebuds, and you absently wondered what is was. Perhaps hibiscus from tea, you surmised. And he too tasted the sweet jasmine and citrus that clung your tongue and lips. At this, he chuckled quietly into your mouth, humming before retracting from you by a few inches so he could speak.

"I knew you would like the tea. It's sweet and flavorful, isn't it?" You hated how low his voice was, how its timbre pleasurably vibrated and rumbled against your lips, and you hated that lidded stare he gave you. You again thought it unfair that you couldn't even revel in the rare sight of Aizen's lips slightly wet because your lips were intertwined with his.

"I have to thank you for humoring me and my recommendations. I really appreciated it. And I also," you winced loudly and cried out in affliction as Aizen finally began to withdraw the sword from your body, "must to bid you farewell now. It seems you don't have any more time left, and this has dragged on for longer than it needed. I'm not surprised you've held out for this long, as I already knew you possessed commendable strength. But alas it wasn't enough. I am sorry that you have to die; it's rather regrettable that you happened to be that blade of grass that ended up underneath my foot."

Another wail was yanked from your chest as he steadily removed his sword from your abdomen. The pain was becoming excruciating, you would have collapsed by now if the taller man weren't holding you.

You saw two things before the light in your eyes had all but faded away. The first were the colors of faux pity and apathy that swirled in Sōsuke Aizen's irises, spiraling like a storm that was certain to wreak havoc in its wake. His gaze was devoid of any regret or remorse; the final metaphorical nail on the coffin. The second was a small smile.

But this wasn't one of his smiles you were familiar with. No wait . . . . the one you knew was simply a veneer of what is.

This smile was slanted, the corners of his lips tilted upwards and was sharp. Sharp enough to cut open your already gaping wound further and completely tear you apart, spelling out your demise. It looked insidious as if it were hiding razor-edged fangs. This was what is; Aizen's real smile.

"I. . . I see. Aize. . . ." were the last words you were able to manage. You didn't have the strength to be upset or hurt any longer, so you gave in to the exhaustion.

Your body permanently relaxed, long lashes veiling your now empty eyes as your arms lifelessly dropped to your sides. The captain found a disturbing amount of pleasure in his name being the final word you attempted to speak before succumbing to the sleep of death.

And even after the fact, the facade of doomed, star-crossed lovers persisted as your body slumped backwards. Aizen's strong forearm wrapped tightly around your waist being the only reason you didn't fall to the ground in a puddle of your own blood.

That day was the last anyone saw of you, your zanpakuto still laid idly in your room, its spirit destined to forever wander in the afterlife between worlds alone, eventually fading from existence without ever feeling the presence of its master again.

They had declared you missing by the end of the next day. Lieutenant Hisagi was probably the most perturbed about your sudden disappearance. Days, weeks passed, and they never located you. The Gotei 13 was left unsettled by the lack of progress, but ultimately had to rule your case inconclusive. Some believed that you were simply killed by a stray hollow, or even ran away from your duties because of the stress.

The news of what happened spread like wildfire across all the squads, that a high-ranked officer just up and vanished without a trace. The spirits and morale of the thirteen companies dampened, sorrow and worry swelling like a festering boil.

And that boil burst when Ryoka infiltrated the Soul Society, and when it was revealed that all of it was carefully orchestrated by Sōsuke Aizen.

Like a blade of grass that somehow snuck into one's sandals or in between their toes, during his time in Hueco Mundo, images of you flashed in his head at unexpected times when his mind was quiet. He'd remove the grass, tossed you aside, and moved on with his day. There was no room for you in the grand scheme of things. Such reminisces were beneath someone like him.

And yet.

He'd always find another piece of grass from the greenery he stepped on whenever he advanced a step in his plans. There you were again.

It was common knowledge that if you kept repeating the same action over and over, it will eventually wear you down.

━━━━━━ 鏡 ━━━━━━━

It was dark, and there was nothing.

There had been nothing for quite a long time now. Utter darkness and the abyssal shade of black engulfed every inch of Aizen's body and surroundings.

He saw nothing, the seals over his eyes too opaque to let anything through. And even if they weren't obscuring his vision, he would barely be able to see three feet in front of him; there was seldom a few lanterns in his cell to begin with. He felt nothing but the bindings that kept him imprisoned in one of the deepest pits of the Seireitei. At times it felt like even his internal organs had stilled in their functions. He heard nothing but the unrelenting quiet of his cell within Mugen's maw. The only thing that served as proof that he hasn't spontaneously grown deaf yet was the occasional muffled noise that originated from outside of the entrance. And even then, he could hardly hear much of anything.

Such is an ironic fate for someone who, with a stray thought and a glint of his blade, could control someone's senses and take away their free will to experience those senses in their reality. And now, he was stripped away of all of his in nearly every capacity.

Sōsuke Aizen was rendered stationary and stagnant, qualities he detested and were the antithesis of his ambitions and plans, perhaps even his existence.

Aizen had always believed in being in control of your own destiny and making your own choices; if you had the opportunity and the power to change something━ especially if it was something that was wrong, unfair or immoral━ then one should be able to move towards that goal by making change, even if by force. The former captain had always been intentional about his actions and his desires right from the start.

And yet, here he ended up.

Spending years strapped to a chair in this dark, cloistered hole, Aizen had nothing but time to reflect the reason for his arrest: that orange haired Ryoka boy, Ichigo Kurosaki. He had nothing but time to admit to himself and settle on the conclusion that his last battle with the substitute Shinigami . . . did something to him.

Fighting the Ryoka boy ignited something inside him that he previously believed would forever lay dormant.

The thrill of a challenge.

Adrenaline was injected into his veins with each clash of their swords, spreading far and wide across every inch of his body. It no longer reacted in the measured, calculative manner he had programmed it to, but with unadulterated, pure instinct and raw power━ all in an effort to not only withstand such potent spirit energy from his opponent, but to come out on top and win.

It made him feel alive.

Aizen's desire to be the victor in battle and in his philosophy━ to prove himself right━ both fueled him and consumed him so thoroughly it led to his own downfall. That was a rather difficult fact to acknowledge; so much so his head started to pulsate intensely whenever it crossed his mind one time too often.

All of it unfolded right in front of his eyes and yet . . . he didn't really see it happen.

As time passed during his perpetual incarceration, with hooded eyes, the former captain spent an unfathomable amount of time tossing and turning every single event that led him to this underground prison, even pondering his temporary release by the Head Captain Kyōraku to fight in the war. Scenarios both minor and significant displayed itself in front of his mind's eye as if he were watching a film.

Every so often, a blurred visage of your image would make a brief appearance, like the flickering sparks of a match before they were able to come to light, fading away into the void and were overshadowed by his other thoughts. It was as if his own consciousness and intentionally muted any manifestations of your existence in his memories. As if he wasn't able to or allowed to see them━ to remember you for too long.

Mentally reliving moments from the last several months, years, decades, centuries━ trying to analyze each moment and decipher where it could have went wrong━ turned out to be quite an exhausting task. His mind and body would grow heavier with inertia, and eventually he would succumb to the alluring pull of slumber. After some time he would rouse from his sleep, and continued from where he left off.

These were his daily activities day in and day out (even though he had trouble distinguishing day and night in his chambers) for years. He saw a positive side to it though. He'd instead think of it has him getting stronger because he had spent so long . . . thinking. Ruminating. Contemplating every possibility in the past, present, and future. His mind would become as sharp as his zanpakuto.

Aizen had always been intentional about what he did, what he said, and how he conducted himself. He was sure in his abilities to orchestrate an image━ a belief for others to have faith in, and act on it in order to further his goals. He was always sure in that image, knowing who he was and what he stood for.

Or at least, that's what he thought.

Aizen wasn't consciously aware that his certainty in this crafted image had already begun to waver. He could not and was unable to anticipate how severe these small fractures had become until after a certain lieutenant paid him a visit outside his cell of confinement, right before he was scheduled to be thrown back into that dark hole of the Mugen.

Lieutenant Shuhei Hisagi was quite emotive when he burst through the doors. His expressions were contorted in volatile mixture of frustration, anger and sadness. His emotions were every which way, directed at everything that has happened so far, including himself. He was especially emotive at Aizen specifically for what he did to former captain Kaname Tosen and 'corrupting him with his twisted ideals.'

Aizen found amusement in that.

Before he was rolled away by the punishment force and therefore out of earshot, a particular set of Hisagi's words caused the small, content smile on his lips to uncurl ever so slightly. "Everything . . . and everyone that has ever gotten themselves involved with you has been trampled on by you and your ideals one way or another, and they all end up dead. If you think what you did to Captain Tosen was justified━ to call it mercy . . . . . then there is truly no justice in this world. You will . . . forever be the enemy in my eyes."

There was a trembling anger in his voice. Pain that wanted to cry out and be set free but, the thin lid of reason prevented it from doing so. And after a moment of silence, the corners of Aizen's lips curved upwards once more. A little bemused, a little more wolfish this time. He maliciously imagined Hisagi's reaction if he ever discovered the true reason for your disappearance.

But instead, all he said was. "What an interesting thing to say, Shuhei Hisagi. Your conviction is admirable." Any evidence of emotion that might have been reflected in his sepia irises was swallowed up and obscured by the darkness of the Mugen's jaw.

The cracks in Aizen's sense of self, in his beliefs, in the image he invented started to cave under the weight of Hisagi's words before he himself realized it was happening. They were like stains in the fabric of his mind that refused to come out.

What puzzled him more, was that with each attempt to figure out just why Hisagi's words echoed in his mind, they all lead back to you, the third seat of the 9th squad. Annoyingly so.

The tattooed lieutenant hadn’t said anything particularly profound ━ at least, Aizen didn't think so. Your name didn’t even fall from his lips. So why were memories of you and your likeness the only clear thoughts he could make of Hisagi's speech? Was it because he was aware of how close the two of you were? He doubted the reason were that trivial and insignificant.

His thoughts grew more discordant by the day, his soul a little more weighted than usual. Perhaps these new seals that Urahara had fashioned actually had an effect on him, Aizen thought. It made sense. His intellect, other than his own, were the only ones capable of creating such effective restraints.

After a while, he had a revelation. This was a different kind of weight.

This heaviness, the closest word he knew to describe it as . . . . was loneliness.

Time taunted him as it seemed to drag on━ Aizen grew even less sure of how much━ when he came to this realization. Hisagi's words were a clear mirror to the loneliness that echoed within him after what happened to you and to Tosen. It was so . . . potent, that it seemed to strike some chord in Aizen he had never heard before.

Such a chord, this sound of loneliness, it was strange and uncomfortable; he wasn't very fond of this sensation. He'd try to scrub it away, but it was all for naught.

His eyes had slid shut at some point, his ruminations leading to dead ends and wearing him down. And, almost as expected, there you were again, in all your translucent glory. The hem, the sleeves, and even the smell of your yukata slowly dragged across his dreams, haunting his thoughts like a lonely wraith.

And Aizen hardly dreamt of anything.

When he regained consciousness he was plagued with yet another epiphany. An additional reason behind this newfound depth.

Aizen's own loneliness. Guilt. Much to his own quiet horror.

How foreign and unusual a thing like guilt is. It was like looking into a mirror and not recognizing something you had never noticed before, but wondered if it had always been there.

But the thing Aizen did recognize, how lonely he actually felt, was something he had hoped would never resurface again. It was a notion he hadn't had the time or regard to consider━ 'loneliness'. Its only purpose, if any, was solely to serve as a motivator. At times though, it was more like a hindrance.

Something akin to nausea slowly started to bubble up in the pit of his stomach, but he suppressed the sensation before it became any more intense.

What of his previous actions did he need to feel guilty for? He hadn't felt it then, so why would he feel it now? Again he ruminated such a question endlessly into oblivion.

The former captain had no doubts that his plan to remove the Soul King, and therefore the Soul Society's sins, were necessary.

Nor did any hesitancy about removing the opposition or dead weight━ whether shinigami or arrancar━ existed.

He certainly had no reservations against killing Kaname Tosen, for he knew the man well enough to know that Tosen would have been so thoroughly appalled with what he had become, it would have drove him mad.

So what was it, then? Why were such useless emotions as guilt and loneliness being amplified n━

"Y....know, S....."

Even covered by the seals, Aizen's eyes widened and his brows were slightly furrowed in distress. Had his mind finally tipped the scales of sanity and madness, to the point where he was hearing things?

It was quiet for several moments longer, before his senses caught onto the sound of water dripping onto a hard surface.

One drop at a time.

Its cadence a little too rhythmic to be natural. And for a second time, he heard that soft, ominous sounding whisper. Its voice a little clearer this time.

"You...know.....Sōsuke."

In the second it took for his eyes to flutter shut behind its seals to blink, when he reopened them, he was no longer sealed to the walls and floors of the Mugen, nor was he surrounded by every shade of darkness imaginable. His limbs and senses were finally freed to breathe for the first time in what felt like ages.

That relief was short-lived when his senses absorbed the unending landscape of water underneath his feet, water lilies lifelessly floating on its surface, and the dim sky illuminated by a full pale moon.

Aizen was in his inner world, and now he was aware of how he got here, or rather who brought him here.

"You . . . already know the answer to that question, Sōsuke." The voice was even more clear, its sentences more comprehensible. And it sounded it eerily like you.

Why the voice was impersonating your likeness had caught him off guard for half a second, but he realized it was only the work of his zanpakuto, Kyoka Suigetsu.

An illusion it may be, there was an untouchable quality about your voice and how you spoke that even Kyoka Suigetsu couldn't replicate.

A few feet away from him, the water was disturbed by a being emerging from the depths. Ripples formed around a manifested version of his zanpakuto, who took the form of you, smiling ever so gently. The smile felt airy, and it didn't seem like the same one that haunted his dreams and every waking thought as of late. It felt....knowing.

Still, the former captain couldn't be bothered to maintain eye contact with his sword spirit, so he turned around and opted to keep his unreadable stare trained on the vast expanse of water and white lilies.

"It's been quite a while since I have stepped foot into this realm. There must be something you want . . . Kyoka."

The zanpakuto chuckled, it sounded like the way you would softly laugh at one of his clever quips. But this wasn't you.

He didn’t want to admit that something about that fact didn’t sit right with him.

"Judging from your tone, would I be correct in assuming you don't want to be here?"

Silence rang out within the soul scape, before Aizen interrupted it, his gentle voice colored a shade darker, and a little rigid. "And I fail to see the reason why you must take that form when you revealed yourself to me. Is your aim to get a reaction out of me? Or something along those lines?"

Your eyes━ the eyes of Kyoka Suigetsu━ narrowed at its master's back, as if they were trying to create concavities in his skull. But the expression was washed away the moment it appeared, the serene smile from before was back in place.

"You know . . . it's considered quite rude to not look at someone when you're addressing them. That, and when you deliberately ignore things they say. Your manners have been deteriorating, Sōsuke. Tsk, tsk."

Kyoka-dressed-as-you suddenly appeared before him, as if they had teleported. Even when they were in his peripheral vision, Aizen still maintained his stare off into the distant nothingness.

"Unless, you can't find it in yourself to look at me. . . that's correct, isn't it? It's because I look exactly like her, right?" The zanpakuto continued to provoke him, taking a step closer into his personal space.

With an exasperated sigh, his eyelids fell shut for a second, using that time to gather the strength he didn't know he needed, and directed his gaze to meet his spirit's. Aizen's face gave nothing away, but his heart lurched about his chest when his bronze eyes met with yours, or what was made to look like yours. The undesired affect it had on him was all the same.

"If you wish to chastise me about manners, I suggest you take your own advice. You didn't answer my first question, either: what is it you want? Why am I here?" Again the former captain chose to not address the other parts of Kyoka's statement. For the sake of his sanity and his thinning patience━ or was it to preserve his resolve?

Its smile widened a bit, moving another step closer to their master. God, Kyoka even smelled like you, mimicking your signature honeyed scent that Aizen didn't realize he found so intoxicating until this very moment.

"I called you here to save you from yourself."

Aizen remained silent, only narrowing his eyes in speculation. "Meaning?"

"Didn't I already say it earlier? I think you already know what I'm talking about, Sōsuke. You've always known."

Fate's pairing of Kyoka Suigetsu with Aizen was a match crafted from the spindles of heaven, but also a maddening curse pulled from the depths of hell, for they complimented each other a little too well. The zanpakuto was too perfect a reflection of Aizen and his soul, looking at it started to hurt his eyes.

His sword spirit insisted that he already knew the reason for his coming here, and perhaps he did have an inkling the moment the light of epiphany was shone on his profound loneliness and guilt. But that couldn't have been what it was referring to . . . . could it?

"You cannot feign ignorance here, my dear Sōsuke, however I do find it rather humorous you bother trying. If you'd like, I don't mind humoring you by spelling it out for you. I'd be glad to unearth the truth that you have buried in the most neglected corner of your heart."

"When you were . . . . subjecting yourself to such mental torment, it had an affect on this world as well. The ripples, the waves in this scape become quite . . . tumultuous." The nuances in your voice were perfected by his zanpakuto, but the way it talked sounded like a fog that was gradually closing in from over the horizon. The uneasy feeling that resided in his chest traveled down to his stomach, but Aizen's face remained steely, even when Kyoka Suigetsu took that final step to close the gap in between them. "And the reason for that, the reason why Hisagi's words rattled you so is because you regret killing that woman."

The creased line in Aizen's brow grew more prominent as he stared down his sentient sword spirit. With its breast pressed against his, they placed a hand on his clothed chest in a tantalizing manner, but he felt nothing. There was no warmth from its palm, much unlike when your hand touched him. There wasn't even a cool sensation either. Even minutes before your death, your touch brought a soothing heat that permeated through his shihakusho and penetrated his skin.

Kyoka's face grew nearer, their smile━ although still tender looking━ grew cold at its edges, nearly resembling that of a predator eager to see despair reflected in the eyes of its prey. It didn't fit the graceful allure of your face at all, and seeing this expression deeply unsettled the former captain more than he would like to admit.

"You regret . . . killing me."

A chill tore through Aizen's body, the weight of Kyoka's words adding onto the heaviness that still hasn't been alleviated from his heart; he was hardly able to suppress the involuntary shiver.

Without warning, Kyoka's mouth suddenly became dangerously close to their master's, its lips brushing against his in a provocative manner. Aizen's expression darkened when he realized that it was reenacting his last encounter with you when you were alive. His mouth started to grow uncomfortably dry, despite his soul scape being full of moisture, and there was a taste on the back of his tongue that's been lingering there since he arrived.

The lilt in Kyoka's tone continued to taunt him. "That is the reason for your guilt: regret. You have been in denial. And in the spirit of unearthing truths, I suppose I can admit that perhaps . . . . I've been . . . . encouraging said delusions, adding drops of fuel into the flames of your emotions and ambitions. But after all that's happened, when it comes down to it there's no point in continuing this hallucination any longer. I've grown tired of this game, so it's time to for you wake up now, Sōsuke. I've brought you here to release you from your own illusion, to completely shatter it."

Aizen's back was as stiff as a board, not moving a millimeter when Kyoka's lips grazed his again. They were breathing softly onto his mouth, but he hardly felt any puffs of air.

The former captain was having a rather difficult time processing the fact that his zanpakuto had its own agenda and had been manipulating his emotions without him noticing. Specifically the emotions he felt towards you.

He never truly believed that such a thing was possible, one's own blade having such a deep-rooted influence━ no, control over their master. Or would it be more accurate to say that he never expected himself to be controlled to such a degree? He that prided himself on being freed from the marionette strings of fate that were tied to his limbs and mind, he that relished being able to do what he wanted, think what he wanted, feel what he wanted━ or what he didn't want━ it was hard to believe that none of that mattered in the end.

Kyoka Suigetsu's deceptive abilities were indeed undeniably perfect. No one, not even Aizen himself could have anticipated that Kyoka's most absolute and complete hypnosis would be enacted on himself.

"Do you know now, Sōsuke? Do you understand?" Kyoka's voice was as soft as a whisper, but it couldn't hide the edges of its tone that were still sharpened from finding amusement of seeing the truth flash across its master's face. "You had destroyed the solution to your existential question of loneliness, before you could fully understand the question itself."

Yes . . . . . Aizen understood now.

He didn't bother acknowledging what Kyoka had said. His grim facial expression━ still, tinged with dolor, and paired with an indescribable, distant look his eyes━ said all that it needed to. His silence was as much as an admission as any.

Kyoka-dressed-as-you leaned forward again to fully close the gap between their lips and Aizen's. Tenderly, like the intentions of a lover, it spoke against his nearly closed mouth. "Have you figured it out yet?"

Nothing but quiet could be heard between them, as Kyoka's mouth moved about their master's face and placed something like kisses upon its surface, but not quite.

Aizen's cocoa-shaded eyes slide down to stare at his sword spirit pressed up against him. His gaze was hard, and yet something swam underneath its surface that his zanpakuto had never seen before. Melancholy, it guessed? They weren't quite sure.

Kyoka pressed on when Aizen remained quiet. "The taste in the back of your mouth. Have you figured out what it was? You know it quite well....."

Aizen's tongue grazed the roof of his mouth, sensing the rather unpleasant taste that has coated the inside of it. And within a moment, because he was faced with the current circumstances, Aizen had finally placed a name associated this particular taste. How unfortunate this was.

Upon his realization, Aizen's head lowered, and his brown tresses hung freely over his lashes. Perhaps it was so Kyoka couldn't properly see whatever remorseful expression painted their master's face, but it mattered not. Even from here, the sword spirit could already sense exactly what it was he was feeling.

And they loved it.

"It's a sweet and flavorful taste, isn't it? Quite lovely." Kyoka Suigetsu mimicked the exact words he uttered against your lips all those years ago when he tasted jasmine tea on your tongue, and sealed your death with a kiss. "It's too bad you don't seem to enjoy it anymore."

Aizen's chest continued to rise and fall calmly, and the hands of his sword spirit that rested there glided upwards to cup his strong jaw, caressing his skin with its thumb. Its phantasmic touch did nothing to stir their master.

"Sōsuke, do you know what the jasmine flower from that tea symbolizes?"

Aizen's lips were slightly parted, but again he didn't say anything. Instead, its corners twitched and lifted upwards by an inch, and he huffed softly.

Kyoka Suigetsu grinned in reply. "Good."

The next time Aizen blinked, he was plunged in darkness yet again. The restrictive feeling that swallowed his being whole had returned, and was an indicator that his zanpakuto had released him from his inner world. He was consciously back in the Mugen, back in this abyss they called a prison cell.

Kyoka was indeed as much as a formidable force in its own right, as much as, if not greater than Aizen himself.

The conversation he had with his sword spirit would be cemented in his head for all eternity. When he grew senile and began to physically wither away, the one thing that would remain vital like a young heart, was this epiphany that he had. This realization that he actually . . . .

As the chains of despair bound him tighter to the bottom of the metaphorical pit, regret and his loneliness corroding his flesh and spirit like metal exposed to moisture, a stray memory of his time in Hueco Mundo flashed in his mind. He recalled having tea prepared for meetings with his Espadas and he could not pinpoint when, but at some point, Aizen developed an aversion for jasmine flavored tea. For one reason or another, he no longer found its taste appealing; whenever he drank it, it always tasted bitter.

Now that reason had become painstakingly clear.

The binding on his mouth muffled a rueful chuckle at the though, and it trapped the flavor of jasmine on his lips.

(#) @soaringmirror @stygianoir @ryukenzz @blkjupiters @chrissie2003 @nymphoheretic @dejwrld @triangularz @souyaszn @kuujo @honeybleed @valentineluvu . let me know if you’d like to be apart of my tag list ♡♡.

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trippinsorrows · 7 months ago

Text

with me + part thirteen

authors note: this one is super long, ya'll! i don't necessarily like how long it is, but i couldn't cut it in half because there was no good cutoff point. so, i apologize to the readers with short attention spans! also, the very last part is not known to the characters, it's just context for what's happening....

this chapter takes place on February 2nd, 2024. yes, i'm aligning it with the real life dates of smackdown shows lol.

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: fluff, language, smut, suggestive themes

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

words: 10k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @yolobloggers @southerngirl41 @msbigredmachine @wanderingreigns

You’d forgotten how uncomfortable flights are and how much they irk you.

It's mostly the not being in control that bothers you. You can admit as much. On the jet wasn’t as difficult because you had Joe, and while Alexis is a nice companion, she’s not your man. No one can make you feel as safe and calm as he does.

However, there's some peace in seeing how well Callie is doing on her first flight. Your undercover social butterfly of a child has made friends with the flight crew who have taken her under their wing, allowing her to be a pretend flight attendant for the short flight.

So her spending time with the flight crew allows you and Alexis time to talk, cause why not distract yourself with a heavy ass conversation while 30,000 feet up in the air?

Alexis takes a sip of her wine, included with the first class tickets she purchased for the three of you. “Just let me know when you get back to the hotel tonight. I’ll watch Cal Gal for ya’ll.”

Confused, you ask, “why would we need you to watch her?”

She answers so casually, “so y'll can fuck. Duh.”

You sigh…..of course. “Alexis, this trip is not for that. We’re here so Callie can spend time with her daddy.” And that’s the truth. You’re most excited to see Callie’s happiness at being reunited with her dad.

“He’s your daddy too,” she wiggles her brows, and you look away. This heifer is way too much sometimes. “All I’m saying is it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Too long. “I’m not saying I don’t want to. It’s just not a priority, and I’m still not on birth control.” It hasn’t been very high on your to-do list, especially with him being gone as long as he has. But also….there’s a small part of you that doesn’t want to get on it, and it’s not because of any health concerns.

“Tell him to pull out,” she suggests with a shrug, but your face must give it away. “Oh my god, he doesn’t want to, does he?”

Having this conversation on a plane, or at all, probably isn’t the best idea, but it’s something you’ve been thinking about since the night of your date. Even more as you grew closer to being reunited with him. “When we had sex that night, he asked me if I was on birth control.”

“Like, after?”

“No, like as he was literally blowing my back out.”

“Damn,” she mutters. If you know Alexis like you think you do, the ‘damn’ is also because she’s mentally conjuring that image. Freaky ass. Shaking her head, she then asks, “and you told him no, right?”

“Of course, but you know what he said in response?” Blowing out a deep breath, your head falls back against the headrest. “He said good, Alexis.”

Her mouth drops open, and you move to slap your palm over her lips. “Remember, we are on a plane, and my daughter is somewhere in the vicinity.”

This seems to help. A little. Removing your hand, she harshly whispers, “he’s trying to get you pregnant again!”

“I don’t think it’s that,” you answer honestly. “I think—I think it’s more if it happens, he wouldn’t be opposed.” And you believe that. You know Joe. He’s many things, and assertive is near the top of that list. He would straight up tell you if he wanted to get you pregnant…..you think.

She studies you, always so damn perceptive and knowing. “You feel the same way too, don’t you?”

“I don’t—” You can’t finish your sentence, because she’s not entirely wrong. It makes no logical sense for you to even be having this conversation, let alone thinking about this. Having a baby right now is one of the dumbest things you could do. You’re having a hard enough time as it is just finding gaps for Joe to spend time with the child you already have.

But.

There’s also this side of you that sees where this is headed. You know that your future is with this man. There’s no outcome you can figure where you two don’t end up together, and Alexis wasn’t wrong before she’d asked/reminded you that you want more kids. You want more kids with him. Want to give Callie a sibling.

Just….not right now.

You can’t even find it in you to tell this man you love him, but you want him to give you another baby? It doesn’t add up.

There’s a part of you that wonders if it comes from a place of fear.

For so long, you dreamed and wished for this to happen, for you to be with Joe, to have a future with him. It kept you up at night the fact that it would never be a possibility, but still, you dreamed. And now that all of it is happening, you wonder if there’s fear it could all go away so you’re trying to make the best of it.

Even though, deep down, you know there’s no reality where Joe could be away from Callie. You? Yes, maybe. Though slim to none. But while he loves you, Callie is his soul. He’d burn the whole world down if that’s what it took to be with her.

And that means he’ll always, to some extent, be in your life.

“Maybe.” Is the much shorter versioned answer you settle for. “So, for now, no sex until I figure this out.” Even saying it aloud, you’re not sure you entirely believe it. It’s a nice plan, but plans often change.

Especially when they involve Joe.

Alexis groans. “I love you, babes, but sometimes you’re so damn exhausting. There’s literally nothing to figure out. That man would marry you tomorrow if he could. You just gotta let go of the past, enjoy the present, and work towards the future.” She then adds, “then again, you said the same thing last time about no sex, and that man still fucked you six different ways from Sunday, so who knows.”

As much as you want to protest, you can’t. Your resolve when it comes to Joe, in almost all areas, is embarrassingly weak.

________

Being backstage is such a blast from the past, so reminiscent of so many years back when you and Mariah were just stoked at the possibility of meeting Cena, unaware of how that one night would change the trajectory of your entire life.

There’s a small part of you saddened at how things have changed so much with Mariah, but that’s an issue for another day. Your focus is on the here and now.

Similarly, Callie seems just as intrigued, but for different reasons. She keeps her hand in yours but her eyes scan around, growing hopeful with each turn of the corner that she’ll be met with the one thing she’s looking for. Or, rather, who she’s looking for.

Alexis somehow arranged a private tour backstage, thus “ditching” you as soon as ya’ll arrived to the arena. However, you also know she believes this is a “personal thing" and doesn’t want to “invade.” You tried to tell her that she was more than welcome, but she wasn’t hearing it. You’re so grateful for all of her support. It means so much to you.

One of the security guards flanking you and Callie tries to make small conversation, and you’re partially grateful but mostly annoyed. Your anxiety is already on the higher end than you’d like it to be, especially when all you wanted was to remain calm and collected for Callie’s sake. But having someone blabber about something you have no interest in doesn’t do much to help that.

Too bad it’s not a distraction, though, because you’re starting to second guess your decision. It’s a bold move not only coming to Joe's “job,” but bringing Callie too. Not that he’d ever complain or be upset at getting to see her, but not making him aware ahead of time is suddenly seeming like not the best idea. No matter what Jon says.

You know you ultimately had to keep him in the dark, because he’d ask questions as to why, not from suspicion but just natural curiosity. And you don’t want to lie to him. You need to talk to him about Callie, but you want to do so in person. That’s not a phone or even Facetime kind of conversation.

What if he isn’t ready for you to go “public”? To make Callie’s existence “public”? Sure, you have zero expectation of him letting ya’ll leave backstage, thus making it easy to hide out from cameras, but still, this is his workplace. He deserves some privacy.

So deep in your head and thoughts, you miss when you turn the final, lucky corner, only to realize when Callie gasps loudly, “daddy!”

She rips her hand from yours, and you briefly panic when she starts running away only to see who she’s running to.

Joe’s standing there among who you’d guess are WWE execs, clearly in the midst of conversation, when his head snaps in your direction. His eyes immediately land on Callie. He’s briefly confused, but a big smile replaces that confusion as he reaches down to catch Callie. She throws her little body against his, and you watch him stand up with her still in his arms, kissing her cheek and hugging her closely.

You walk over to them, offering a small, apologetic smile to the people now watching with slight puzzlement.

“Callie Bear,” he murmurs, mouth pressed to the top of her head. Your anxiety is already lessening. There’s not an ounce of anger or irritation painted in his handsome features, only an immense amount of appreciation and satisfaction at seeing his little girl.

“Surprise!” She shouts, smiling broadly. “Mommy said we could come see you since you can’t come see us!”

“And I’m glad you did,” he murmurs. “I missed you, baby girl.” She lays her head against his chest, obviously having missed him just as much. His eyes then land on you as you finally reach the duo. Your smile is small, even as he reaches and pulls you against his free side, stealing a quick kiss. “I missed you too, mama.”

His words do something so warm and fuzzy to your insides. “We figured if you couldn’t make it to us, we’d come to you.” Relief is so heavy over you. You’re pretty sure you’ve just given Joe one of the best surprises he could ever receive. You look over at the people still awkwardly standing by and then to him. “I’m sorry, did she interr—”

“No.” He seems almost insulted that you would even ask such a thing. He directs to them, “later.”

Without protest, they disperse, walking away. It’s so interesting seeing how much he’s grown since you first met him. Back then he was young, still trying to prove himself. Now he’s the literal face of the company. It starts and ends with him.

“I was on a plane!” Callie informs with that award winning smile. “I’ve never been on a plane before!”

“You haven’t?” It’s difficult to tell if he’s feigning surprise for the sake of engaging her on her level or genuinely can’t believe she’s never flown before. “Were you scared?”

She shakes her head. “It was lotsa fun!”

Joe chuckles and kisses her cheek. “That’s my brave girl.”

She giggles as he tickles her stomach. “I saw clouds! Ooh and birdies! And the nice flight lady gave me cookies cause she said I was a good girl!” As Callie starts to ramble and catch Joe up on a second by second play of the plane ride, he gives you a pat on the hip and directs you to walk with him. His arm around your waist, the other holding up Callie, you can’t deny how natural this feels, the three of you.

Joe takes you to his locker room which is as nice as you would expect it to be for the guy in WWE. You take your seat in the single chair, allowing Callie and Joe to take the sofa even though she’s barely next to him for five minutes before climbing into his lap and pulling out her tablet to show him what she’s made in some of her apps.

You pull your phone out and see that you have a few unread texts, the one from Alexis making you laugh aloud.

Alexis: Would you still love me if I fucked Logan Paul?

Shaking your head, you type out a response.

You: yes. just a little less.

Alexis: It’s just an appetizer. I plan to leave with the number of someone from that damn Bloodline tonight. Tell BDJ to hook me up.

You: would you please stop calling him that? 😭

Alexis: I’ll stop when it stops being true 🤷🏽‍♀️

You: you’re a menace.

Alexis: Stop texting me and focus on your man.

You: he’s in callie world right now, which is exactly where he should be. i keep telling you this trip was for her.

Alexis: It can be for you too if you stop being stupid and start by telling him, I don’t know, THAT YOU LOVE HIM.

You: goodbye, alexis 🙄

Alexis: I’m about to fuck this white boy anyway, but you know I’m right!!!

Alexis: I hope he doesn’t have fleas.

It takes everything in you not to scream. This girl is really crazy. Switching threads, you text your mom.

You: we made it here. she’s so happy. 🥺 he is too. i’m glad i took her.

Opening up the camera app, you sneak and snap a photo of the two of them. Reviewing it makes your heart swell. Callie is clearly deep in explanation while Joe holds her, partially following her discussion but mostly just enraptured in having her with him.

You send the photo to your mom who responds almost immediately.

Mom: Awww. I’m glad you did too. Enjoy yourself, baby. Take lots of pictures. ♥️

“Oooh!” Callie’s semi-loud exclamation pulls you away from the text thread. “Look what mommy got me!” Callie hops off Joe’s lap and spins around, moving her hair to the side to show off the back of her hoodie.

Naturally, you move your eyes to Joe, watching closely and carefully as he travels through a variety of emotions: shock, happiness, love. He’s clearly moved. A warm smile sets on your face. “I love it, baby.” He finally speaks, the emotion undeniable in his voice. Joe’s gaze sets on you, and you don’t need him to say anything to know what he’s thinking.

Mouthing ‘you’re welcome’, you settle back into the sofa, watching as Callie returns to her spot in his lap to finish catching him up on all the things he’s missed in his long absence.

You occupy yourself on your phone, catching up on some work emails and parent messages because it doesn’t seem to matter how many different ways you make them aware of an absence, they’re still going to message you like you didn’t let them know you’d be out of office for the next few days.

Sometimes you can’t tell much of a difference between your students and their parents. They’re both equally out of touch.

At some point, Callie moves to the middle of the floor to empty out her backpack that you still don’t know just how she managed to pack as much as she did in. She seemed hellbent on bringing all of these items, mostly artsy things, to share with Joe. And you didn’t want to stop her, so you let it be.

However, you end up catching Joe’s eye, and he motions you to come over to him. But, being the brat you are, you take your time doing so. And of course, because everything about this man is large, it’s nothing for him to reach his long arms out to tug you in front of him. His hands are on your hips, and you can tell he’s trying to keep the placement appropriate for the sake of Callie.

“You’re quiet,” he observes, discerning you.

Shugging, you answer honestly, “I want you to have your time with Callie. She’s really missed you.” One thing you’re most definitely not looking forward to is the discussion regarding the real reason for this surprise trip. You already know it’s going to make Joe feel awful, and that’s not the goal. You just don’t want to keep anything else from him as it pertains to Callie. He doesn’t deserve that.

“And what about you?” He asks, suddenly, “Did you miss me?”

Chuckling, you brush your fingers against his soft hair, pulled back in his go-to bun. “I always miss you, Joe.” The delivery is much more gentle than intended, albeit entirely true. Pre-Callie and Post-Callie, maybe even moreso now, Joe’s extended absences affected you in various ways. Being around him right now is making you more aware of just how much, even as your brain jumps to how nice it’ll be to not sleep alone tonight. That was something you always loved about Joe when he came to visit years back, how he would always bring you against his hard body, strong arms securing you. You always slept the best when he was in town.

Of course, this is way too vulnerable of a conversation to have with your daughter present, so you change subjects. “But, I also wanted to see Cody Rhodes, cause you know I’m team finish the story,” you tease, giggling at his instant scowl. It’s a lie, and you know he knows it’s a lie. Cody is cool, but you’re Team Roman (Joe) all day every day. Still, it’s in your nature to stir up trouble and pick with him.

“Dick rider,” he mutters loud enough for you to hear but low enough for Callie not to.

Smirking, you lean down to whisper in his ear. “Naw, baby, that’s for you and you only.”

Trying to move away is a fruitless effort because he yanks you onto his lap, your thighs over his legs as he murmurs against your earlobe. “Don’t play with me like that.”

“Mommy, I wanna sit there.” Callie’s jealous voice suddenly enters the conversation, and you have to stop yourself from laughing at her pout. She’s so possessive. “He’s my daddy, not yours.”

You gasp quietly when he squeezes your ass, forcing you to climb off him. “You’re very right, Callie Bear.” Moving back to your chair, you taunt, “he’s not my daddy.”

It’s hilarious watching Joe control himself for the sake of Callie, but his expression tells you everything you need to know. If not for her presence, he’d have you bent over, taking every inch of his thick dick as he reminds you just who you belong to.

The image shouldn’t excite you as much as it does.

Sure enough, Callie climbs her little self back onto the sofa and back onto Joe’s lap, but the sound of an almost rhythmic knock at his door draws the attention of all three of you. However, before Joe can respond, the door is swung open, and based upon the lack of consent, you expect to see Alexis. Instead, you’re met with a different set of folks.

“Come in,” Joe says sarcastically, and you glare, standing up to greet them.

“Whassup, Y/N? Long time, no see, girl.” Jon’s introduction is so typical and expected, but it still makes you laugh. He’s always been a hoot to be around.

“Good to see you, Jon.” He hugs you, and you turn to Josh who’s also wearing a friendly grin.

“Lil hurt you ain’t hit me up to help you with the surprise.” He sucks his teeth but still hugs you, as you shake your head.

“I thought you’d be on Raw,” you answer. It’s the truth, even if who exactly helped you make this happen didn’t matter as much as ensuring it did in fact happen.

“That why you been acting weird?” Joe’s voice enters the conversation. “You knew?”

“We both knew,” Joshua answers as you give Jon a look.

He asks, “what?”

Sucking your teeth, you cross your arms, “I told you not to tell nobody!”

“I didn’t! It’s just Josh.” He shrugs, and you can only shake your head. There’s a reason these two are so popular in the WWE. A lot of their promos could be ripped from real life interactions.

“Y/N!” Trinity's gorgeous smile is the first thing you notice followed by her surprise introduction, even before her colorful gear that you’ve always been so amazed by as she rushes over to you. She stretches her arm, “it’s so good to see you again!” Smiling, you accept her hug, tight and genuine. In the few interactions you’d had with her, she was also so kind and friendly. It’s nice to see that hasn’t changed.

“It’s good to see you too, Trin.” You mean it. She's just a genuinely chill person.

Looking over to Callie, you see she’s still sitting on Joe’s lap, holding onto his hoodie, obviously trying to read the room full of strangers. Jon must notice this too as he looks her way as well, giving her that warm smile.

“And this….” He starts walking toward her, crouching down in front of the sofa. “---this must be the famous Ms. Callie.”

A small chuckle leaves your mouth watching her suddenly “hide” her face in Joe’s side, as one eye is still peaked open.

You whisper over to the group, “don’t let her fool you. She’s shy at first, but then she won’t be quiet.” It’s a conversation so similar to Callie’s first meeting with Joe which feels so long ago now.

Joe’s also clearly a bit amused at her sudden shyness and goes to introduce them. “Callie, these are my cousins, Jon and Josh.” She looks up with a quizzical expression and motions with her hand for him to lean down. He does so, and she whispers something in his ear. His smile grows as he answers, “they are.” Looking still a bit skeptical, she waves her hand again. Take two. He dips his head, and she whispers something else. Again, he answers, “yup.” At this, she gasps and jumps off the sofa, running over to you.

Callie hugs your legs and “whispers” to you with all of the excitement, “mommy, they’re my cousins too! I have cousins!”

It takes a lot out of you not to get emotional in this moment. She’s so damn happy at this news, at finding out she has more family. You lean down and push back some of her loose curls. “You surely do, baby.”

Finally pleased with the confirmation, she turns around and beams at the twins and Trinity, “hi! I’m Callie!”

There’s a chorus of laughter as Trinity speaks this time, “it’s very nice to meet you, Callie.”

“You’re pretty,” Callie compliments, and Trin places a hand over her chest, clearly touched by her kindness.

“Oh my gosh, you’re so sweet,” she awes as Josh joins in, introducing himself as Callie stares at him for a second.

“You’re a twin,” she says it like this is the first time he’s ever heard as such or even realized as such.

Josh does a good job going along with it, nodding and smiling. “I sure am.”

Callie suddenly turns to you. “Mommy, how come I don’t have a twin?”

“Because Jesus loved mommy enough not to do that to me.” Childbirth is equally horrific as it is beautiful, and while you’re forever grateful for your sweet child, you’ll never forget that pain. Pushing her out was torture. You can’t even begin to imagine having to do it twice, back to back.

Twins….never.

Josh suddenly chimes before Callie can present a follow-up question. “I have a little girl who’s a couple years older than you, and I can’t wait for ya’ll to meet.”

She gasps loudly. “I have more cousins?”

Jon sucks his teeth and answers, “Girl, you got so many cousins, you might meet em’ all before you turn 18.”

Her jaw drops. “I'll be really old then!”

Shaking your head, you start to counter her when Joe speaks up, calling her name.

“You have another cousin here tonight, baby girl.” There’s a second of confusion, but you realize he must be talking about Solo Sikoa. You hadn’t met him, as he came onto the scene after you and Joe separated. But as you told Joe, he’s free to introduce you to any and all family. You want this for your little girl. It’s obvious just from her reaction to the twins and Trin, she wants it as well. “Do you wanna meet him?”

It’s a no brainer, Callie nodding furiously as she runs to jump back on the sofa, sitting next to Joe.

He laughs at her enthusiasm and then calls out, “come in.” It’s loud enough for whoever is on the other side of the door to do so, and while you expect to see the final member of the bloodline enter the space, you’re thoroughly and shockingly surprised to see that you are very wrong.

Because through the door aren't the footsteps and subsequent entrance of Solo Sikoa.

It’s Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson.

While you’re in a semi state of shock, Callie is in a pure state of unadulterated delirium, and it’s entirely expected given she knows this man as something else.

Someone else.

“Maui!”

The entire room erupts in laughter as Callie rushes to stand in front of Dwayne who gets down on one knee to be more eye to eye with her.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Callie.”

Joe also moves closer and bends down, hand on Callie’s back. “Calista, this is my cousin, Dwayne, so that means he’s yo—”

“Maui is my cousin!”

This little girl is damn near screaming, but it’s so hard to tell her to quiet down when you’re pretty sure this may be the single most happiest moment of her life.

Next to finding out Joe is her dad, of course.

Once your own shock wears off, you pull your phone out to snap a few photos, almost wishing you knew ahead of time The freaking Rock was going to be present tonight. You also would have tried to make yourself look a little more presentable, especially when Joe introduces you to his cousin as well.

And of course because you’re the one who starts taking pictures, it’s only a matter of time before you’re dragged into a few of your own. It’s an easy pass, as you feel entirely underdressed with your all black one piece, long cardigan, and boots, having dressed comfortably for traveling. Not photo-ops.

But, it’s when Callie pouts and says so sweetly, all the innocence in the world, “but we’re a family” that it actually hits you for the first time.

You, Joe, Callie….you don’t just feel like a family. You are one.

So you push aside your vanity and swallow back the tears to partake in a slate of photos involving everyone to just you, Callie, and Joe to even just a couple of you and Joe. Your favorites are most definitely the ones with the three of you, especially one where Joe sits you down on his left leg and Callie on his right. He squeezes your side, forcing a squeal and laugh that makes Callie laugh as well, creating such an organic, beautiful moment between the three of you.

A family.

—-----------

The night keeps on bringing more and more surprises, the latest one being the fact that instead of hiding out backstage, you, Alexis, and Callie are seated ringside in the VIP section with other family members and close friends of the wrestlers.

It’s…..definitely not what you expected. You’re not opposed, especially since Callie was thrilled to learn she’d be much closer to Joe out here than she would from the back, but it’s just not what you were expecting.

It’s so…..public.

“How long does it take someone to walk out like da—”

“Alexis!” You scold her, even if you slightly agree. It’s not that you’re not enjoying yourself. You are. You just would much rather see your man, and you know Callie feels the same way. Every so often she’ll lift her head from her tablet, hoping to see Joe only to be disappointed.

You tried to tell her that as soon as she hears his music, he’ll come out, but that was nearly 45 minutes ago. A part of you wishes you could have found somewhere backstage to hide out as Joe and the others eventually had to leave to cut a promo.

So while Alexis' delivery is slightly off, she has somewhat of a valid point.

Rolling her eyes, she looks your way, asking. “Can you text him and tell him to hurry up?”

Shaking your head, you answer with just as much sass and sarcasm. “Yes, I’ll get right on—”

And that’s when you hear it.

“Oh shit,” Alexis pulls out her phone, instantly starting to record because this whole trip apparently needs to be memorialized with photo and video. Not that you’re entirely or in any way opposed. This is Callie’s first time at one of her dad’s shows. It’s special and should be documented in one way or another.

Looking to your side, you see her tablet is on the empty seat next to her, and she’s reaching for you to pick her up so she can see better.

Quickly obliging, you hike her on your hip and laugh at her excited expression. Her eyes are scanning all over for him, so you direct her to where he should be walking out any minute.

“I wonder whose music that is,” Alexis teases, and you turn with Callie to face the phone that’s capturing this moment.

Callie answers proudly. “My daddy’s!”

You and Lex laugh at her excitement that grows exponentially when Joe finally walks out, flanked by his cousins and Paul.

“There he is!” She points, and you smile, kissing her cheek. This is all so worth it, the pure joy and glee on her face. You follow her line of vision, focusing on the Tribal Chief himself.

Damn.

Joe is one fine ass man. That’s it. That’s the tweet. But when he’s in his Roman role? That confidence, that swagger……everything sexy about him is amped up times ten. You may have to rethink your stance on no sex for this trip.

It feels almost criminal to be around this man and not ride him until you can’t no more.

The naughty thoughts are temporarily pushed away when you notice Callie is nodding her head to Joe’s entrance music. Laughing, you and Alexis join in. Lex is still recording, and you’re actually happy she is because she gets it on camera when Callie throws up the one to ‘acknowledge' him. Your heart swells. There’s something about that moment that’s so precious to you, to see how connected she feels with him. How closely they’ve bonded. How much she loves him. And even more, how much he loves her.

As they near the ring, you notice how Joe branches off from them, and you assume it’s because of whatever this promo entails. But, you quickly realize it’s because he’s headed toward you. There’s this brief sense of panic on your end, meanwhile Callie gasps in excitement and reaches for him. Joe hugs her and kisses her temple. Touched at the gesture, you look at her only for Joe to take you by equal surprise when he grabs your chin and kisses you as well.

What…..the…..hell?

You’re not upset, just genuinely surprised that he would be so openly affectionate with you, maybe not Callie as much, but definitely you. So….public. You’re certain that your face is painted in shock the whole time, but it’s when he heads into the ring that you and Alexis share a look, Callie too focused on her daddy to notice anything else.

“Girl, if you don’t tell that man you love him, I’m gonna tell him for you.” She could be joking. She could be serious. You never really know with Alexis. “Because he literally just acknowledged you in front of all these people.”

There’s still a part of you that’s having difficulty processing what just happened. You were worried that Joe would feel some type of way about you and Callie coming to his job, just staying backstage, but this man really has you both ringside and broke character just to show you and Callie affection.

If there was ever any doubt in your mind regarding his feelings for you, tonight has completely demolished it.

Alexis is right.

You need to tell him.

And you need to tell him tonight.

________

As much excitement as the day has brought, you knew it was only a matter of time before it caught up to your still very young child. Joe’s segment with The Rock ended up being the closing promo, which worked out great because Callie started to doze off a bit right around that time. And when you’re finally able to reunite with Joe backstage, she’s all but sleeping in your arms.

In having to buckle and unbuckle her in her car seat for the travel to the hotel, she stirs a bit, but as soon as you arrive and Joe removes her from the car seat, the end of the travels, you know she’s out for the night.

He carries her into the hotel room and walks her into the main bedroom while you place the bag you have for both her and yourself near the “living room” area. Joe insisted he could handle both the luggage and Callie, but you insisted that he instead focus on your little girl.

You also take a moment to take in that this is an actual hotel room instead of an apartment. There are literally two bedrooms separated by doors and all and two bathrooms, both of which rival the size of Callie’s bedroom.

It’s definitely not your local motel from back home.

Joe walks back in, no Callie in sight. “She is knocked out.”

“I knew she would tap out eventually. She’s been up all day, refused to nap.” He walks over to you, hands on your hips as he tugs you close. Your hands move to his chest. “She was too excited to see you.”

“Thank you, by the way,” he murmurs. “For bringing her.”

You chew on your bottom lip. “I almost didn’t. I—I didn’t know if you’d be upset I didn’t ask you first.”

His furrowed brows tell you that couldn’t be farther from the truth. “Why would I be upset?”

You shrug, suddenly unsure of yourself, which is such a foreign feeling. Confident is always a word you’d use to describe yourself, but in this moment, having this discussion, it’s not as applicable. “I guess….I guess I wasn’t too sure if you’d want people knowing about me.” Your voice softens. “About Callie.”

And it’s true. It’s one thing for Joe to be out in public with Callie back home, but it’s an entirely different thing to be out in public in his world.

Granted, his public display of affection tonight should have squashed that concern.

Just your implication alone seems to be a dagger to his chest. Joe brings his hands to your face and speaks with such confidence and conviction. “I’m not ashamed of you. I’m not ashamed of us, and I’m damn sure not ashamed of my daughter. I don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks. Do I want to do an exclusive interview about us? Hell no. But, that’s because my personal life is nobody’s business but my own. I’m not hiding your or our daughter from anyone in my personal life, not my friends, not my family, and not the WWE.”

For a second, you feel bad for making him have to defend himself so staunchly, have to explain himself. It’s not necessary.

Not after he so openly acknowledged you and Callie tonight.

“I believe you,” you respond quietly. You move your hands up and down his chest in an effort to settle him. “I know you’re not ashamed. I’m sorry.” Remembering the video from earlier, you pull your phone out of your pocket and unlock it. Locating it takes a matter of seconds. “I figured you’d like this.” You hit play and angle the phone so he can see, a massive smile growing on his handsome face. It’s like you can feel the tension melt away when he lays eyes on Callie.

Similar to yourself, he seems especially moved by Callie’s “acknowledgment.” You lay your head against his chest, whispering, “she really does love you, ya know.”

Just like her mama.

Video finished, you bite on your bottom lip, an idea crossing your mind. Such weak resolve indeed. “You know, she sleeps heavy…..very heavy.” His eyes narrow, intrigued by where you’re giving. Smirking to yourself, you head toward the bathroom. “I think I’m gonna go take a bath in that nice big tub that could totally fit two people.”

In what seems like inhuman speed, Joe is in front of you, hand coming down on your ass. Hard. “Joe!”

“Get your ass naked. Now.” ________

His head is in the crook of your neck, lips pressing gentle kisses against the wet skin of your shoulder. You chew on your bottom lip, hands on top of his that rest under the water on your stomach.

“I always miss you too,” he murmurs against you, a nod to the brief conversation from earlier. Eyes closing, you rest your head back against his shoulder.

This moment is perfect, and you hate to ruin that, to take away from it. But, you also promised yourself that you would be honest with him, especially when it comes to Callie.

Turning around in the water, you straddle him, legs on either side of his large body. Before he can take your change in position to mean something else, you bring your hands to his face. “There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

You’re certain he can tell by your tone that whatever it is is serious. “Tell me.”

Fuck. This is harder than you thought it would be. “I wanted to see you, yes, but Callie….Callie needed to come see you.” You can tell he has questions, so you move straight into it, not wanting to delay the inevitable. “She’s been…she’s been different.” He sits up, fully immersed in the conversation. “Not bad, just….she’s been irritable with me at times. Even her teacher said something. You don’t see it, because she’s fine when she talks to you, even after. But when she can’t talk to you….” You shake your head. “I talked to my mom about it, because I was thinking she’s finally feeling whatever I caused when I ran off that night, but….that’s not it.”

You made the executive decision to not tell him, however, about her drawing or how she cried into your chest because she missed him so much and couldn't understand why he hadn’t come back to see her. This already must be hard for him to hear. There’s no need to throw salt on the wound.

You know the full truth would crush him.

“So then I talked to her.” You lower your hands to his broad shoulders, massaging them soothingly, voice softening as you finally tell him, “---and she told me she’s been sad because she misses you.”

You see it. The moment his heart drops. He’s crushed, eyes averting downward. His guilt is almost palpable.

“Please don’t do that.” Voice gentle, you bring your hands back to his face, urging him to meet your loving gaze. “You have done such an amazing job stepping into the father role, and it shows in how much she loves you. You go above and beyond for her. She just can’t grasp what it is you do because she’s too young to do so, but I talked with my principal, and I’ve got the time to take off, so I’m gonna take it. I’ll bring her to you.”

“Y/N….”

“It’s not an issue. Especially since summer will be here before we know it. I’m off then too, so we can make that work. We will make this work, because she’s our daughter, and that’s what parents do.” Your words are partially penetrating, that much is obvious, so you continue. “I really didn’t want to say anything, because I knew you would feel bad, and you absolutely shouldn’t, but I also don’t want to keep anything from you, especially when it’s about Callie. You’re her father. You have a right to know.”

“It’s why you didn’t tell me you were bringing her, because you knew I’d ask,” he puts two and two together. You’re not surprised. Joe’s always been annoyingly perspicacious and insightful. “Thank you…for telling me.”

Kissing his forehead, you remind him, “Calista loves you, Joe. Whether you’re in town or not. You could be doing a show on fucking Mars, and it wouldn’t change a damn thing. She loves you.” You lick your lips, voice unintentionally light and soft. “And so do I.” It’s not a planned admission, not anything scheduled, just an honest, organic confession.

His gaze is on you, no longer as despondent but replaced with something more akin to surprise.

“I’ve always loved you.” You bring your palm to his cheek, his beard prickling against your skin. “The only reason I told you to leave was because I loved you, because it was too hard to be in love with you and not really be with you. And after all this time, I still love you. I don’t think I ever stopped.”

It's the truth. In the time he'd been absent from your life, you absolutely could have found someone and moved on. Maybe even settled down, but you couldn't. Because your heart was still with him.

You're pretty certain your heart will always be with him.

“That was my fault,” he acknowledges in a low voice. “I never told you what you meant to me, never took the steps to make you mine. Officially. And I was wrong for that, Y/N. Dead wrong. You always deserved better.”

Gaze softening, you murmur, “I always knew you were married, Joe. You never hid that from me.”

He shakes his head. “But I never—”

“It doesn’t matter—” it’s not entirely true. It does matter to you, you still want and maybe even have some degree of right to know just what the deal was with his marriage, why it took so long for him to divorce his ex-wife. However, at this moment, you don’t care about any of that. This isn’t about that. “I love you, and you love me. That…..that’s what matters.”

He looks like he still has more to say but is being respectful of what you want right now. So he asserts, “you’re with me now.”

“I’m with you now,” you repeat with a soft smile. “I’m with you always.”

Joe sits up, water pushing towards the other side of the tub. “You love me.” It’s more of a statement than a question, like he’s always known as such but was patiently waiting for you to openly admit to such. “I love you too, baby girl.”

Your lips connect for a kiss, passionate, hot, sensual, greedy. His hands are on your back, holding you close, your breast pressed against his chest.

Your mouth parts when he moves his hand to your breast, thumb circling your nipple as he plants wet kisses down your jawline. “Let me make love to you.” His lips are fire against your wet skin, and you can’t bring yourself to answer with his hands roaming your body under the water, fingers parting your folds.

All you can do is nod eagerly. Joe surprises you when he ensures your legs are locked around him, standing up like you weigh next to nothing. Bodies dripping with water doesn’t make a difference to him as he walks you into the empty bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him, and lays you down on the bed.

“Baby, we’re all wet,” you point out, not that it changes anything. He’s hot and hard against your thigh, and you feel yourself subconsciously inching down to take him in. “We ca—ahhh.” Your fingers scrape down his chest as he sinks into you. You’ll never get over the feeling of him inside you, the equally painful as it is pleasurable stretch.

“Joe….”

His head is in the crook of your neck. “It’s always been you.” His hands go to your legs, your thighs, spreading them further, deepening his reach. “Always.”

He pins your hands above your head, by your wrists and you writhe under him. His pace is slow and intentional. This isn’t about either of you getting off, it’s so much more, much more deeper, meaningful.

“You’ve always been my home.” But, it’s when he says that, so beautiful and vulnerable, that any remaining resolve you had shatters. Tugging on his grip, he loosens his hold and your hands push lightly on his chest. You give enough pressure for him to recognize you’re trying to switch positions. In seconds, he’s on his back with you on top, lips connected with his for a sensual kiss, your hands intertwining again above the pillow as you ride him.

You break the kiss, unable to keep in your moan. He feels so good inside you like this, and you lean back, moving your hips in slow, methodical circles. You know he loves you like this, riding him, breast bouncing as he meets your thrusts. Joe's hand moves up your stomach to your breast giving a deliciously tight squeeze.

“God, I love you,” you whimper, feeling your release building up. It never takes long with Joe. He’s master of your body and all the ways to bring you to a mewling mess.

You’re taken back when he sits up, tugging you closer, his dick hitting a different, even better spot. He kisses you again, more sloppy, just as passionate. And you moan into his mouth as his big hands plant on your hips, controlling your movements.

“Fuck, Joe.”

“Say it again,” he directs, and you’re momentarily confused why he instructs, “tell me you love me, baby.”

“I love you.” It’s probably one of the easiest things you’ve ever done as your fingers lock in his hair, your head back as he licks up the nape of your neck. “I love you so much.”

Your words seem to send him over the edge as well, his mouth latching onto your nipple as he says against your inflamed skin, “let me come in you.”

That feels like a layered request, like he’s asking two questions in one, not that it makes a massive difference.

The answer is the same either way.

This man has your entire heart and soul, and you’ll give him whatever he asks for. Whatever.

Your finger knots in his scalp as you yank his head back, forcing him to look at you, “only if you come with me.”

His response is to switch positions again, this time laying you on your side as he fucks you from behind. His hand is planted on your belly, fingers spread and splayed as he talks you through it, carrying you into that wonderland of bliss and euphoria. Your hands scrape against the sheets as your orgasm rocks your entire body, and Joe follows shortly after, emptying his entire seed inside of you.

Bodies wet and spent, his mouth is still on your back as he breathes into your skin, “I love you….”

Chewing on your lip and moving onto your back, your gaze is on him, loving and content. “I love you, too….”

________

You and Joe take separate showers, a mutual agreement as you both know together would just result in another round. Not that either of you are wholly objected, but you also need to be available for your daughter should she wake up for some reason. Not very likely, but just the chance alone is enough to stay on the safe side.

As Callie is conveniently sleeping in the middle of the bed, you and Joe slide in on opposite sides. Interestingly enough, not even a few minutes pass before Callie stirs in her sleep and moves on her side, facing Joe. It’s heartwarming how he gently caresses her forehead, just watching her sleep.

“I’ve been thinking.” He makes a sound acknowledging your statement, but his eyes are focused on Callie. You know he’s taking in this moment, recognizing that in a matter of hours he’ll have to leave. That he won’t see her again for another almost two weeks. “What if we moved?”

At that, his eyes lift up, so you explain, “My mom is actually the one who brought it up. I didn’t see or understand it then, but I’m starting to get it now. You come to my place, Callie and I can come to see you here, but….we don’t have a place that’s ours.”

If this trip has shown you anything, it’s the importance of togetherness. Callie is most happy when you’re all together. She’s thrilled to be with Joe, but she’s most elated when it’s the three of you. You understand what your mom was trying to say. Callie wants family. She wants the three of you to be a family, and while there’s a lot of things that are untraditional about your dynamic, there are still paths to normalcy.

And one of those paths include having a home that belongs to the three of you, not just you or him, but a space for us.

“You would do that?” It’s hard for you to tell if his voice is so soft because he’s trying to avoid disturbing Callie or he’s deeply moved by your suggestion. Maybe both.

“Of course.” It’s an easy answer, especially when it comes to what’s best for your daughter. “I can teach anywhere. I have my mom and a few cousins, but that’s it. Almost your entire family is in Florida. You saw how easily she connected and bonded with your family. I want her to have that, and she can’t if we stay in my town. I told you before….she wants to be with you, and so do I.”

You spent so long wanting and dreaming of having that, you’re entirely done with running and overthinking. It’s done nothing but keep you from being with the man you love and want to do life with. It’s time to focus on now and embrace the future.

A future that includes your family.

“I’ll have my manager find us a realtor.”

There’s something so exciting and pleasing about this, most likely that it’s the first step of establishing your future with this man. You’re not sure the last time you felt such peace.

Yawning, you realize that while you feel exhausted, he must be drained. “Goodnight, Joe.”

Turning on your back, he wishes you a goodnight and anything else after that is lost to the drowsiness that precedes sleep.

But, it’s a sleep that doesn’t last as long as you’d like.

Having Callie has made you a lighter sleeper in general, so when Joe gets up and out of the bed, needing to get ready to leave, you’re up shortly after him. You don’t get out of the bed, just move so that Callie is right next to you. You know once he’s gone, she’ll be right under you, so might as well get a head start.

And it happens much sooner than you’d like it to, Joe on the side of the bed, crouched down, as he goes to wake her up.

It’s something he was entirely against until you told him that in talking to Callie, she made you promise that he'd wake up to tell her bye. She didn’t want him to leave without getting a chance to say goodbye.

So, he respects that.

“Callie…” You can see he still hates this, hates all of it. You feel it too. It’s not enjoyable having to see these two separated when it’s obvious how close they are. At the end of the day, you get to go home with Callie. He doesn't. “Baby, wake up.”

Helping him out, you give her shoulder a little shake. “Calista, come on, baby, daddy’s gotta go.”

She’s so much like her dad, a heavy sleeper, but finally she stirs, eyes blinking open. And as soon as she sees him, she also knows what time it is. She sits up and rubs at her eyes, moving to hug him.

“Bye.” Her soft, sleepy voice is both precious and heartbreaking, for a lot of reasons. You try to remind yourself though that she’s bound to be ecstatic when you and Joe break the news to her that you’ll all be moving in together. It’s just a matter of getting through this rough patch.

“I love you, sweetheart.” He kisses her temple and just as you predicted, she tucks herself into your side, readying to go back to sleep. Joe brings his palm to your cheek, “I love you too.”

Smiling warmly, you murmur, “I know....I love you too.” Easiest hello and hardest goodbye has always been such a cliched, overused, corny ass saying to you, but in this moment, you feel it wholeheartedly. “I’ll text you when we get back home.”

He nods, clearly pleased with this. “I’ll see you in two weeks.”

That’s the silver lining. There won’t be as much of a stretch of time that passes between the time you get to see him again. And this pleases you as you give him one last smile before laying back down and dreaming of a future that isn’t as far out as you once believed.

It may be just around the corner.

________

Meanwhile in the Social Media-Verse…..

TRENDING THREADS

#1: R0m@n Re!gns new gf?

Original Poster: Sooooo. I was on Twitter being nosy, and people who attended the Smackdown show tonight are saying that RR stopped during his entrance to hug and kiss some woman and child sitting ringside. Can’t find any photos or video yet but will come back and add any that I find. Anyone got the tea?

Post #1: I thought he got divorced? I could have sworn I saw an article months about that.

Post #2: I saw the tweets too! Someone asked if it was his ex, but the wwe fanboys are saying the woman was too “fat” to be the ex-wife.

Post #3: That’s so interesting, cause I was watching live tonight (from home because broke bitch status) and the camera randomly cut to the commentators which felt like a strange move given Roman’s entrance is so iconic. I wonder if that’s when it happened.

Post #4: Ain’t nobody got no video or nothing? Didn’t happen. That’s not even aligned with his heel portrayal.

Post #5: @Post#4: He broke character clearly…..

Post #6: Omg yes!!! I was there tonight with my friend, and while we weren’t super close, it definitely happened. That wasn’t his ex-wife. Even from a distance, we could see that. And she’s not fat either, just curvy. Super pretty too. Like stunning. And yes, she’s black.

Post #7: I just saw someone on Twitter who claims to have been sitting near them say the little girl called him ‘daddy’ 😲

Post #8: I thought he didn’t have any kids??? Harpo who dis woman?????

Post #9: Damn, it must be serious if he acknowledging her while on the clock and playing daddy to her kid. Our man is taken taken, ya’ll. 😪

Post#10: This is wild. I just googled his name plus the word wife and came across like one picture from years back where she attended some charity event with him. I wonder what their marriage was like cause homegirl never went nowhere with this man.

Post #11: A lot of ya’ll must be new because the tea was spilled years ago in a legendary DR thread that he cheats. Apparently the wife did too. Seemed like an open marriage, Will and Jada type shit, just a lot more private and secretive.

Post #12: @Post11: I am new lol What was the DR? I need to know for…..research purposes.

Post #13: @Post12: Lol. Homegirl said he’s packing, the stroke game is immaculate, and that he’s a eater…..had her damn near speaking in tongues, going up yonder. So whoever this woman is….she’s winning in life.

Post #14: @Post10 That is so true omg. There’s like nothing there. I know he’s very private but damn sis you can’t make at least an annual appearance????

Post #15: That was his whore (mistress) turned girlfriend and the kid is (allegedly) his. She sucked and fucked her way to that “acknowledgement.”

Post #16: @Post15: Whaaaattttt? You sound like you have tea, sis? Care to spill. 👀

Post #17: @Post16: The truth will come out soon enough.

#roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns x black!reader #roman reigns fic #roman reigns #arisnotebook

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topazadine · 6 months ago

Text

Let's do another spicy writing take, one that is going to get a lot of people very mad. However, please note that I am saying this out of love and concern. This is not an attack on you personally or on your writing process.

Take a deep breath, prepare to listen with an open mind. Alright. Here goes:

Stop starting a million WIPs.

I am serious. Please. Do not do that. Do not start a million WIPs.

Why? Because then you won't get any of them done. And why is that? Because you'll lose motivation, get distracted, and hop on to the next thing, leaving a trail of heartbreak in your wake.

I have 131 stories on Archive of Our Own and have written over 2 million words of fiction. Two. Million. Words.

Don't believe me? Look.

And then there's more that is not accounted for here: a 110k novel, another 109k novel, and a 20k novelette, along with my current WIP which is currently around 10k. All told, I have written approximately 2,084,000 words.

Are they all perfect? No, of course not, especially the older stuff. But is it done? Yep.

And I did that by doing each project one at a time.

If I get another story idea while I'm in the middle of another story, I write a note in my WIP list, but I don't start it. Only when I'm letting a story "rest" before editing do I start outlining another book, but I still don't start. I wait until I've finished one entire project before I do another one.

Your brain does not actually multitask. Our brains aren't wired to do that. This article from Forbes explains:

You are highly unlikely to be part of that 2.5% even if you think you are. I'm not, and you're probably not either.

What you are really doing is task switching. Take it from the software management program Asana:

That article from Forbes elaborates:

And it is even worse when you are hopping from one WIP to another, essentially changing contexts.

Pleexy, another task automation company, continues by discussing 'context switching':

Every time you stop working on one WIP, you are switching contexts and pulling yourself out of the world you have created, jumping into another. Now your brain is struggling to reorient itself, and it's not going to do its best work.

"But I love writing different WIPs and I get some of them done!"

I am sure you do, but is it your best effort? Would you have been able to write faster, more coherently, better, if you had only worked on one? Probably. And don't you want to do your best?

"But I have ideas and if I don't do them right now I'll forget them!!!"

Then write them down. I have a whole WIP list of things I am intending to write later. Make a notepad document, a spreadsheet, whatever, for your different WIPs.

When you think of something interesting for that project, put down a small note underneath it, but don't start writing! Your brain will let it marinate and when you're done with your current project, you'll have a better idea of what to do with it.

I like to visualize things before bed, so a lot of the time, I will use that visualization for a different project as my way to calm down, but I'm not devoting too much attention to it before I'm ready to work. I've got some scenes and images that I have daydreamed about, but I haven't drawn attention away from my current WIP by actually beginning to write.

This way, I can devote all of my brainpower to my current project while reserving a little bit of attention and aspiration for the next one. I also avoid writer's block because I have my next WIP lined up, waiting for me, and I can transition to it almost immediately.

Generally, I don't go more than a few days without starting a new project (after completing one!!!!!) because I am prepared for it: I can give it my full attention. There's no sitting around and waiting for inspiration.

"But I have so much inspiration for this project and want to start right away!"

Something I am learning as a writer is delayed gratification. I am an impulsive person and I want to jump into things right away, but then I get disappointed with the results. For example, I released 9 Years Yearning before commissioning a really good cover. I regret that and I'm going to learn from that mistake with the next book in The Eirenic Verses.

By waiting, you get a better payoff.

I've got four different projects waiting to be released and one waiting for serious revisions. They are all finished, but they're not polished. It would be very easy for me to spend a few hours formatting them and then just throw them up, but I won't get the best payoff then.

Instead, I'll wait for a break between projects before turning back to them and fixing them up, giving them all my attention. Yes, it means I don't release a billion books a year, but it also means I release my best work.

Writing is not a sprint; it's a marathon. It's okay to give your projects a break.

By letting my stories rest, sometimes for entire months, I can come back to them with fresh eyes and make sure they're perfect. The same is true of your WIPs. Let them sit and marinate for a while.

How to avoid having a billion WIPs:

Make a list of future WIPs. Put it in one document. Add things as you think about them.

Put this list of WIPs away and ignore it.

Allow yourself to get some writer's block if you're struggling with your current project. Writer's block is okay sometimes. Don't use writer's block as permission to start something else.

Put reminders up that tell you not to start things. I like the phrase "bird by bird" which I got from the eponymous book by Anne Lamott (which is really good writing advice).

Read up on task switching and the myth of multitasking to show why having a million WIPs doesn't work.

Interrogate yourself. When you have a bunch of WIPs, do you actually get any of them done? Be realistic and ruthless with yourself.

Look back at how many WIPs you have in storage. Identify your WIP completion rate. It's probably lower than you think.

Read about the writing habits of other writers. You'll find most successful writers do not have a ton of different projects at once. They also go one at a time.

"No I'm going to write a million WIPs anyway! You don't know me!"

Okay, then go for it. You're not obligated to take my advice. I can only tell you that the science - and my personal experience - says that's not a good idea.

Ultimately, it doesn't really matter to me if you continue to stop and start a gazillion different projects and get none of them done. That's your problem, not mine.

But I'd rather you be able to finish something you're proud of, because then you're growing as a writer, and I always encourage personal growth.

It honestly makes me sad when people go "teehee I have soooo many WIPs and I just started another one hehehe!" because I know, without a doubt, that almost none of them will see the light of day.

You deserve better than a bunch of unfinished projects. You can achieve more than that. Put down the WIP list, focus on your current story, and go for it.

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suzdin · 1 year ago

Text

Two For One: Ch. 3

Part One | Part Two

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, pre-vampire Max, pre-Equalizer 2 Dave, familial drama and angst, mentions of drug use/abuse, fingering, oral (f receiving), spitting, oral (m receiving), dom!Dave, soft!Dave, dom!Max, unprotected p in v, degradation, choking, voyeurism.

Word Count: 10k+

Notes: I don’t even know. Max is an asshole as usual but also kind of sweet at one point, Dave is his normal creepy self but that’s why we love him. Reader has a magical vagina apparently

——

Dave barely slept without you next to him.

He could still smell you on his sheets, his skin. It was driving him insane, his proximity to you. So close yet so far. There were several times he debated getting out of bed and going to you, but he willed himself to stay. Dave knew he wasn’t a good man—a fucked up man, even—but there were lines even he wouldn’t cross.

Still, dreaming about sneaking into your apartment in the middle of the night to fuck you senseless was making him hard as ever. You made him feel young again.

He settled for fucking his hand to the video he took of you instead, hot tendrils of spend soaking his stomach as he honed in on the faces you made, listening to your pretty noises. It was nowhere near as good as the real you, but it was all he could do to alleviate the ache, the constant yearning he felt.

He wakes early the next day. Before sunrise. He knew you were unlikely to be up at this hour, so he tries to preoccupy himself with packing for the trip, neatly arranging his clothes in a small weekend bag, packing a smaller separate bag for toiletries. Lastly, in its own case, his trusty Beretta M9A1, which he tucks into the larger of the two bags.

He sips on a cup of tea, extra strong, his head fuzzy from only having gotten a couple of hours of consistent sleep at best. He googles the hours of your coffee shop, uncertain if you would even be there, to find it doesn’t open for another hour and a half.

He settles for walking to the 24 hour store on the corner and purchasing a can of Monster, toying with his phone, wondering if he should try messaging you despite how early it is. As he’s rounding the corner back to his building, glancing up at your window which is still dark, he finagles his phone out of his pocket and opens his texts.

There’s already one there from you, a simple “Hey”, when you’d texted him last night so he would have your number. It tugs at his chest seeing the lone message.

Dave: Morning. You up?

He hits send and instantly chastises himself for being so needy. It’s done now, though. Nothing he can do about it. He’ll worry about it later.

He goes back to his apartment and chugs the cocktail of pure sugar and caffeine, tossing the can into the trash, but it does little to curb his exhaustion, only elevating his heart rate. Finished packing, and complete with his intel gathering on Jonathan for the time being, he isn’t sure what else he can do before he needs to leave for Virginia. He can, of course, depart early, leaving nothing to the fate of traffic and other unknowns. But he doesn’t like that idea. He would much rather see you.

He starts to think of last night again, his dick hard again, and he grunts, annoyed with his never ending horniness at this point.

He tries to ignore his slew of persistent thoughts by turning on the TV to watch the early morning news, slumping into his couch and propping his feet up on the coffee table. The weatherman is currently reciting the 10-day forecast. Supposed to be nice weather into next week. That’s good news, Dave thinks.

He leans back and makes himself comfortable, rubbing his ever present erection over his pants, trying to take his mind off of you. He doesn’t want to jerk off again. He wants the next time he cums to be with you. In you.

“Jesus,” he mumbles to himself, wiping his eyes.

He checks his phone even though he’s sure you haven’t responded. Still nothing. He frowns and tosses the offending piece of technology onto the couch and shuts his eyes.

With your face the last image in his mind’s eye, Dave drifts off.

——

He startles himself awake, sleep deprived brain in a panic, concerned that he’s running late, concerned that he missed his window to see you.

He checks his phone for the time, breathing a sigh of relief. It’s only been half an hour, but it feels like he slept for half a century.

There’s also no texts from you. You’re probably still asleep. But part of him also worries that you’re dodging him.

He cards a hand through his hair, groaning in frustration. He needs to shower. And then he needs to eat. Food is the last thing on his mind right now, though. The only sustenance he wants—needs—is you.

It’s just after 5 AM. He could get in another cat nap in, if he wanted, but he’s worried he might not get so lucky a second time. He decides not to risk it, urging himself to get off the sofa and into the shower.

As he strips down to bare skin, stiff cock springing free, he can’t stop thinking about how the wet press of your body would feel against his. How you would feel sandwiched between himself and the shower wall as he drives himself into you over and over until your throat is raw from screaming his name.

He wishes you were here.

——

The edges of consciousness start to blink into existence. You can see sunlight filtering through the flesh of your closed eyelids, hear the distant sounds of the city that drift in through the window by your bed. You hear a dog barking somewhere and the grind of a garbage truck a block down.

And then another noise, foreign to your ears, breaking through the song of the city and the fog of your mind: a loud, aggressive buzzing from somewhere inside your apartment.

What the fuck?

You jerk awake, early morning sun too bright to your sleep-wasted eyes, and the buzzing is bellowing at you again, making your head throb. You grumble in aggravation.

You scramble out of bed, tripping over your comforter as you do so, to locate the source of the invasive sound. It doesn’t take you long to find it, a bronze panel on the wall with a speaker and button by the door that you’ve largely ignored until now, thinking it was defunct when the landlord never took the time to explain it to you.

You go over to it, cautiously depressing the button under your finger, mumbling a sleepy, and slightly irritated, “Hello?”

There’s the faint scratch of static and then a voice, tinny and distorted, but clear enough to understand and recognize: “Hey. Sorry if I woke you. It’s Dave.” His tone is apologetic.

You blink, rubbing your eyes. What time is it? Why is he here?

“It’s okay. Morning, Dave.”

There’s a pause. Then: “I brought you some breakfast. Can I come up for a minute?”

You let go of the button and sigh. You should really say no, but he went through the trouble of getting you something—your people pleasing nature rearing its ugly head once again—even though you were just going to eat the baklava you both forgot about last night for breakfast.

You press the button again. “Yeah, sure. I don’t think I have a way to buzz you in so I’ll be right down…” you say.

“No, no, it’s okay, I see someone coming down now,” Dave responds, followed by more static and what you think is shuffling. “What’s your unit number?”

It’s all a ruse on his part, of course, because he already knows the unit number and no one is actually coming. But he has to make it believable. He has to see you, take care of you—in more ways than one.

Before he left his apartment, he pocketed a piece of technology left over from his CIA days, a small spy camera roughly the size of a golf tee. Part of himself thinks he should feel guilty for even considering what he’s about to do. It was an invasion of privacy, surely, something most often reserved for criminals and terrorists. You were neither—far from it—but he knows he needs to keep you in his sights as often as possible. He’ll go mad if he doesn’t. Especially while he’s gone.

“Be right up,” he replies when you give your unit, tapping in the door code from memory and letting himself into the building.

He clutches the bag with your everything bagel and bottle of orange juice and heads up the stairs. He deliberated on getting you a coffee, but considering where you work, you probably have your own coffee at home, so he settled on orange juice for the vitamin C to cure the undoubted hangover you surely have.

He reaches the landing and finds you already standing in the doorway of your apartment, waiting for him, a cigarette already perched between your fingers, smoke curling to the ceiling.

You’re not exactly dressed to impress in your dark blue camisole, pink plaid pajama bottoms, fuzzy black slippers and sky blue house robe covered in fluffy white clouds. Your hair is a rat’s nest and everything about you screams disheveled and just rolled out of bed, barely having the energy to shower last night and then going to sleep with wet hair, but Dave slows when his gaze lands on you, taking in the full sight of you. Forcing himself to maintain composure.

“Hey,” he says quietly, a warm smile pooling across his face.

“Hey,” you offer back, mirroring his smile. You can’t help it—he looks good—damn good—in his slate gray tee and black sweatpants that don’t leave a lot of room for interpretation.

You blush feverishly and he responds in kind, averting his gaze and rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. The audacity of this man to act bashful after what he did to you. Your stomach flutters full of butterflies.

“Is that Sal’s?” you query, pointing at the bag and diverting your wandering thoughts. “I love them!” You’re pretty sure Sal’s is one of the first places you ever noticed Dave.

“Yeah. Everything bagel with extra cream cheese,” he responds. “I’ve overheard you order it before. I hope that isn’t weird.”

Maybe it is a little weird, but it’s fine. At least he pays attention. Jonathan lived with you for months and still couldn’t remember a damn thing you liked.

“No, I think it’s sweet. Thanks,” you say, taking the bag from him and peeking inside.

“And orange juice for vitamin C and hydration. Good for a hangover,” Dave points out, hooking one corner of his lips into a lopsided grin.

You smile at Dave. You aren’t sure if you should ask him in or what the custom even is for a situation where you just met a guy and he fucked you into another dimension.

Your head adjusts slightly and you meet his gaze. A look is shared between the two of you—Dave giving you the same look he gave you last night, dark eyes and tightly pursed lips—arousal sparking hot between your legs as your mind starts to replay all the events from the previous evening. A blaze licks through you like unchecked wildfire.

Dave takes a tentative step towards you at roughly the same time Mrs. Tobin’s door starts to click open over his shoulder, your eyes going wide as you gather a handful of his shirt and yank him into your apartment, quickly shutting the door behind you before she can see the cigarette still smoldering in your hand, ash slowly flitting to the floor in a rush of movement.

You start to tell Dave that the old bitch has already reported you for smoking in the building, but the words don’t have a moment to leave your mouth, broad hands spanning your waist to walk you backwards, lips crashing into yours as you both share a desperate moan.

You grunt into Dave’s mouth when you feel the kitchen counter collide with your ass, still very much sore from the night before. He plucks the cigarette and bag from your hands, snuffing the carcinogenic stick out in the sink next to you and placing the bag on the counter for you to indulge later.

He undoes the binds of your robe to let it splay open, hands slithering around to your backside to cup both cheeks in his hands, kneading, pulling you apart.

You keen in reverence of his touch. You and Dave are an incendiary mix, fire meeting gasoline, your only time spent together so far a need to be so close your fibers might as well be fused at the seams.

“I missed this ass,” Dave whispers, giving it a small slap. “Couldn’t sleep because of it.” Because of you. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get over being the first to pop your ass cherry and how well you took it.

He kisses you again, tongue dragging the cavern of your mouth, lashing against your own. You don’t even give it much thought as you slip your arm down the front of his pants to find he isn’t wearing anything under his sweats, hips bucking into your clutches as your fingers circle and stroke his shaft.

“Fuck,” he pants into your mouth. “I don’t have much time.” His eyes drill into yours, wild and chaotic, lips parted in a savage, carnal snarl. He should have been on the road fifteen minutes ago, but he couldn’t resist leaving without seeing you. Especially not now.

“We need to be fast, then,” you suggest, and that’s all the confirmation he needs. He removes your robe and lets it fall to the floor, fingers digging into the sensitive meat of your ass as he lifts you up to carry you to the bed.

You link your legs around his waist and hold onto his wide shoulders to steady yourself as he carries you, your back making contact with the mattress a moment later.

He rips your pajama bottoms down your legs, revealing that you, too, are not wearing any underwear.

“Prettiest fucking cunt I’ve ever seen,” he surmises, spreading you open, bending down to spit directly onto your sex. He doesn’t have a lot of time to prepare you, but he needs to give you something, gliding two of his fingers through the mixture of your arousal and his spittle, pressing said thick digits into your opening, pumping.

“Do you remember the safe word?” Dave asks you.

“Yes,” you say quietly. Your tunnel tightens around his fingers, sucking him in, your body already in pursuit of relief.

He lands a sharp smack to the top of your cunt with a growl, your walls squeezing even harder around his fingers. “Say it. And address me as sir.”

“F-foxglove, s-sir,” you reply, your voice wavering. He rewards you by curling his fingers against your sensitive patch of nerves, making you keen.

“Atta girl. Are you ready to take me?”

“Dave—I mean, sir—I have condoms

—“

He stretches an arm over you to slap a breast, this time. The sensitive one that he did a number on last night, causing you to choke on a gasp, your core flooding with arousal at the rush of pain.

“That’s not what I asked, sweetheart. Our rules from last night still stand. You need to trust me.” He deliberately slows his fingers, bringing them nearly to a stop as he looks up at you with not-quite-innocent, expansive brown eyes, awaiting your answer.

“Yes sir. I’m ready to take you, sir,” you acquiesce, rubbing your sensitive breast. He doesn’t reprimand you this time.

He pulls his fingers from you and stands, sliding the sweat pants down his legs and kicking them out of the way, revealing smooth, well muscled thighs; engorged sex flared red and weeping.

He spreads your legs apart and doesn’t give you any additional time to ready yourself, notching himself at your entrance and then shoving himself forward all the way until he bottoms out, exhaling a long breath as he does so, hips shuddering with pleasure.

He fills you in ways you didn’t think were possible, flaying you apart, making you feel every last centimeter of his length and girth, even with the initial shallow gyrations of his hips.

“Shit,” he rumbles, leaning onto his calves so he can watch you swallow him. “So good at taking me, sweet girl.”

He could watch you like this all day, split open and keening on his cock, but time is a mournfully pressing issue. He lifts your legs to rest your calves against the wide breadth of his shoulders, parting you even more as he wastes no time in breaking into an unrelenting sprint.

It sends you spiraling, the small of your back coming off the mattress with a loud cry that vibrates your lungs.

“Touch yourself,” he commands. “Make yourself cum.”

You don’t need to be told twice. Your hand finds your swollen clit just shy of the press of your bodies, gathering some slick on the pads of your fingers, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Still so sore,” you plead, your fingers flicking lightly between your legs. “Don’t know if I can, sir.”

Dave clicks his tongue. “I don’t care. You will cum for me. Or I’ll flip you over and fuck that sweet ass of yours again if you don’t,” he threatens, causing your asshole to pucker at the mere mention. “Make you leak my cum two days in a row.”

“N-no,” you mumble, your words rising and falling with every hard slam of his hips. “Please don’t.”

“Then cum for me,” he snarls, the bridge of his nose creased in a sneer, bottom lip jutted outward in concentration. He slaps one side of your hip to aggregate his point. “Cum on my cock or I’m filling your ass again.” His dick thrums just at the thought.

Your fingers move faster, circling and strumming at your clit, a definite sting of discomfort ever present but fading gradually as your pleasure begins to build, the tell tale sensation growing deep in your core. You never thought of yourself as a person to enjoy pain, or being so carelessly manhandled, yet here you are.

“Oh, Dave…” you whine, cupping your unmarked breast with your other hand, rolling the nipple between your fingers.

His grueling pace doesn’t falter. Your noises are driving him to the brink and he isn’t sure how much longer he can hold out, but he wants you to cum. Needs you to cum.

He’s poised on his knees, gripping handfuls of your upper thighs, slamming into you as deftly and expeditiously as he can manage at his age, with a back destroyed by years of hard physical labor.

You let out a high pitched moan and he grunts, fingernails digging into your flesh, leaving behind tiny pink crescent moons of himself there. Another stake in his claim to you.

“Alright baby, alright baby. Come on now. Cum for me.” His voice is soft and deep, eyes trained on your face. He can feel your walls tightening around him, and he knows you’re close.

The tight coil in your lower abdomen unfurls and your climax suddenly works its way through you, a cry rolling from your lips, back arching as you clamp down and strangle him, sucking him deeper. He growls, guttural and worshipping, as you peak.

He rears back to spit on you, a hot globule of saliva landing on your stomach and pooling in the hollow divot of your belly button.

“That’s right, you fucking whore, fuck— sit up and open your mouth,” he snarls in a deep timbre from the depths of his chest.

He doesn’t give you a moment to respond or even comprehend, pulling out of you and yanking you upright to the edge of the bed, digging his fingers into your hair at the base of your skull to pull your mouth onto him, and you part your lips subserviently.

He presses the slick, engorged head to your lips and pushes himself forward into your mouth. He’s so girthy, stretching you beyond what you’re used to, but you let your muscles slacken, everything relaxing to better accept him.

He groans and pushes deeper, a trek through the wet heat of your mouth, holding your head in place as he finds his way.

“That’s it, sweet girl, open up for me—“

He begins to thrust, shallow at first, working you apart centimeter by centimeter. He reaches the back of your throat and it is a struggle not to gag, tears breaking at the rims of your eyes, but you push through it, exhaling through your nostrils as you peer up at him through your lashes.

His hand finds the outer bend of your throat, collaring you, gripping snugly as he begins to rut faster, feeling himself moving in your esophagus in the cradle of his hand. It’s all too much, too much and somehow not enough to diminish his never ending thirst for you, cock twitching and balls pulling tight in his scrotum as he starts to empty himself down your throat with a loud groan, panting your name on his lips.

“Fuck!”

He keeps you there for several moments longer, everything from the waist down shivering and shuddering with exertion, until he starts to grow soft between your lips. His cock slips wet and heavy from your mouth, a thin line of spittle connecting and then breaking as he moves away.

He falls into bed next to you to catch his breath, landing on his back, one large hand settling on your thigh as he shields his eyes from the rays of sunlight with the other. “Thank you,” he says quietly, broad chest rising and falling with every breath.

You tilt your head at him. “No, thank you,” you counter.

You look down at Dave, the sharp cut of his jaw and plush lips peeking out from beneath his hand. An unexpected scorch of anxiety moves through you as it occurs to you that you’re liking Dave a little too much and too quickly, making you feel nothing but unsettled, your stomach doing flip flops. You don’t want a repeat of Jonathan.

“I should, um. Go clean myself up,” you say, pushing yourself off the bed. Dave’s hand slides from your thigh with a heavy thud against the mattress, and he watches you go, disconcerted at your apparent and sudden unease. But knowing this is likely his only chance to plant the camera, he lets you go.

“I’ll join you in a second,” he calls out. As soon as you disappear into the bathroom, he slowly scoots off the bed, quietly as he can to not arouse suspicion. He hears the creak of a faucet being turned and water spilling out.

He rises to his feet and glances around. Your apartment looks as much as he imagined it would, faded blue walls with a few pictures hung of what appears to be family, along with several pieces of art. You seem to like dark and semi-abstract, one of the larger pieces a bloody skull on a black background, daisies placed in the skull’s eye sockets, paint strokes appearing to be scratched together with a palette knife rather than an actual brush.

It stirs something in his soul, if he has one. He is the skull and you are the flowers. He steps closer for further examination but doesn’t see an artist signature anywhere. Did you paint this? Did your ex?

His jaw ticks.

You have a few plants in the window sill, some of them thriving and some not. The apartment is cluttered and unkempt but not trashy. You aren’t as fastidious as Dave, but he likes that about you. It compliments him, balances him out. He notices a few empty bottles of alcohol in the trash bin next to the kitchen.

He dips to grab his pants where the camera is stowed, reaching into the pocket to grab it as he continues to look for an optimal location. And then he finds one: a bent slat in the vent by your window, which directly faces the bed. The gap is just wide enough to slip the camera in between.

He moves to the vent and tucks the camera inside, between the slats, the lens pointed directly at your headboard. He maneuvers it into place until he’s satisfied with its placement, hoping it will stay put. He’ll be able to control it from both his phone and his computer.

As he turns to join you in the bathroom, he notices your own laptop propped precariously on a folding table in the corner, screen open to what appears to be a word document, cursor still visibly flashing. A work in progress of sorts. Curiosity gets the better of him and he moves over to the screen, bending to read the words written there:

Raye found herself in what appeared to be a pasture, grass as high as her chest, which was bathed in a gentle pouring of pale golden moonlight. Her shirt clung to her sweat-damp skin and her chest heaved with effort, legs pumping as quickly as she could move them, propelling her forward into the tall grass.

She was alone as far as she could tell. No cows or horses that she could discern, nothing that could act as possible interference for the creature in pursuit. No buildings in sight. Only a line of trees in the nearby distance, and swarms of june bugs that smacked into her face and body as she ran.

She knew there must be a road somewhere beyond the trees. She had gotten lost after running out of gas in the middle of her road trip down south, turning down the wrong kind of country road in the middle of Louisiana at night, which had landed her smack dab in the middle of the woods, her bearings and sense of direction scrambled, the thing chasing her still snapping at her heels. She had only glimpsed the massive animal for a split second before she bolted, her instincts telling her to run.

And then the inevitable happened. Her foot found a well in the soil, her momentum so great that she tumbled ass over teakettle into the dirt and grass, a cry of pain escaping her lungs as her shoulder made contact with the hard packed earth.

She only had a moment to look up before she saw it, the massive wolf-like monster’s jaws descending on her, fangs flashing silver in the glow of moonlight. Patchy tendrils of black fur streaking out of its dark, greasy skin.

It ends there and he hums to himself. You hadn’t talked about writing before, and he’d found no evidence of it otherwise. It’s good. Really good. You continue to intrigue him.

He makes it to the bathroom and you’re just starting to towel off, smiling at him with your eyes. There’s a damp rag on the edge of the sink. He reaches for it.

“May I?” he asks, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiles.

The audacity of this man.

“By all means,” you reply, taking a step back, stumbling on a pile of dirty laundry. You watch and blush as Dave runs the moist towel over himself. Even soft, his size is impressive.

“So, what are you going to Virginia for?” you query, making conversation. His eyes meet yours and his expression grows somber.

“To see my two girls,” he answers honestly. “My ex and I… well, I get to see them twice a month. It… it’s a fucked up situation.” He doesn’t elaborate. This man is a fucking enigma.

You aren’t sure how to process this new snippet of information. Two girls? Ex? You must be making a face because he reaches for your hand.

“I’m sorry. I meant to tell you last night—it just wasn’t the right time.”

“It’s okay,” you offer weakly. “I mean, kind of a shock, but it’s fine.”

He brushes his fingers over the back of his neck, regretful that he didn’t tell you sooner, so consumed in his desire of you he didn’t want to send you running for the hills. “Yeah, I get it. It’s a lot.”

You cross your arms. “What are their names and how old are they?” you inquire.

“Mollie is six and Alice is four,” he replies.

You nod. “It is a lot,” you confirm, a vicious knot twisting its way around your stomach. You weren’t a big fan of kids. Maybe this could actually be what prevents you from falling for Dave, a fact you couldn’t help to admit you were a little grateful for. “But it’s okay. I understand.”

His countenance darkens into a sad smile, those dark brown eyes gazing at you, shiny and big and apologetic. God, why does he have to look at you like that?

“I’m sorry,” he says again, and pulls you into his chest, arms circling your back, hands finding the swell of your ass and softly squeezing. He bends to kiss you, and in spite of yourself, you let him. It’s a tender kiss, delicate and gentle, reminding you once again that Dave is a man of many faces.

He breaks the kiss a moment later, staring into your eyes, brushing your hair back from your face. “I really don’t want to, but I need to be going. Will you walk me to my car?”

——

You walk Dave down. You don’t bother putting on real clothes, wearing exactly what you had on when you woke up. The only difference is you briefly ran a brush through your hair.

He walks with his arm linked around your shoulders. He’s proud to show you off even in your current state. You try not to think about it. You don’t need more reasons to get attached. You need less.

“This is me,” he says, pointing to a sensible black Elantra, which you’ve definitely seen around before.

“I hope you have a nice trip. Have fun with your girls,” you say.

“Always do.” That was a lie. As much as he appreciated spending time with them, it was always full of undue stress and bone numbing exhaustion, two weeks worth of anxiety crammed into a single weekend. If only he could take you with him to ease some of the suffering.

“We’ll have to go out again sometime when I get back,” he suggests. “I’ll call you.”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

He smiles. Kisses you, again, more passionate than the last, but not at all salacious. You break the kiss, this time.

“You’re beautiful,” Dave says, his hand resting against the column of your neck. “So beautiful.” His thumb traces your pulse point.

You playfully shove at his chest. He doesn’t budge an inch because he’s an immovable wall of flesh. “Stop it. I look like shit. And you need to go.”

“You don’t look like shit. But I do need to go.”

He goes to kiss you one final time, cradling your jaw. The last for who knows how long, depending on how long the hit takes.

A sound registers at your six. And then barking, loud and shrill, a familiar voice attempting—and failing—to calm the offending dog.

“Good mornin’, dear,” Mrs. Tobin says in a thick Irish accent, and you turn to find her coming back from her early morning walk with her Yorkie, Jack.

“Morning, Mrs. Tobin.” Your hand goes to your neck, doing your best to hide the dark marks on your skin.

“Morning,” Dave offers. He pretends not to be bothered by the interruption.

“Come now, Jackie boy, it’s just our neighbor and her friend,” she says to the small dog with a knowing wink, still trying to settle him. Her eyes track where your hand is. “Or maybe more’na friend. You don’t have to hide those from me, dear. I was young once too, yeh know,” she says with a short laugh.

You blush. Dave blushes, too. God. This man.

“Well, hope yeh have a nice mornin’. Let’s go, Jackie boy, give ‘em some privacy,” she says, tugging at the leash.

“You too,” you reply with a touch of annoyance. Dave lifts his hand in a wave. As soon as she’s a reasonable distance away, he finally gets to kiss you. Again. And it’s nice. Too nice.

Okay, maybe you are falling for him.

——

After hastily shoving the bagel down your throat, you end up going back to bed for a few hours. No work, no responsibilities. You put your phone on Do Not Disturb. If there’s a work emergency, they can call Maury or they’ll just have to figure it out themselves. You can’t always hold their hands for them. You’re going to take advantage of the opportunity to get some rest.

You wake later in the day to several missed texts and four missed calls from your mom. And one from Dave, from before he showed up at your door.

You groan and hesitantly open the texts from your mother. You let out a sigh of exasperation when you read what’s got her so spooked, deciding it isn’t worth it to call her back right away. At least not before you have some coffee to lift the haze from your mind. She’s waited this long; she can wait longer.

Mom: Ur brother is back in jail. Call me when u get a chanse ok?

Of fucking course he is. You toss the phone down with a roll of your eyes. Garrett has had so many run ins with the law since you were a kid, you’ve lost count at this point.

You brew yourself some coffee. One of the perks of managing a coffee shop is free bags of coffee, and this one is good—pumpkin pecan, one of the new seasonal flavors. You were as basic as they come when it came to anything pumpkin flavored.

You scarf down the baklava as you inhale your coffee, which you suppose is your lunch. You feel a little bad that you forgot to offer Dave half of it, but he got what he showed up for, so you don’t dwell on it.

Your mom calls again. You answer, this time, sighing as you place the phone against your ear. You don’t even bother with a hello.

“I already saw. Sorry to hear that, mom.” You really aren’t.

“Where the hell have you been? I was worried sick!” your mom chides. “Your brother’s in jail an’ you’re MIA?”

“Yeah, mom, I’m a grown woman with my own life in a different city. I was resting. I don’t have to be at your every beck and call, especially when it isn’t even that import—“

“The hell it ain’t! How’m I supposed to get him out of there? I don’t have bail money!”

You light one of your cigarettes and take a long drag before responding. “I’m not sending you money to bail him out,” you state firmly. “First of all, I don’t have it right now. And secondly, he’ll never learn if—“

“Then what’re we supposed to do?” she snorts.

“I don’t know. Leave him in there, or get a bail bondsman. Not my problem,” you say, your tone flat and apathetic. You’ve been numb to this issue since you were a teen. Since all the empty promises he made to you of coming clean.

“You’ve got to be fuckin’ kidding me!”

“No, I’m not. I’ll send you money for grandma’s medical bills, or groceries or rent, but I’m not sending money for this.”

“So, that’s it, huh? You just don’t give a shit about us?”

You roll your eyes so hard you’re surprised she doesn’t hear it through the phone.

“How’s grandma?” you question, notably changing the subject.

The line goes dead. You stare at the phone. She hung up on you.

Figures.

You don’t bother calling her back. There’s no point. You’ll never come to an agreement on the issue, anyway, and it will only stress you out more than necessary.

Garrett has always been your mother’s favorite. It used to bother you. As expensive as Boston is, and as much as you miss Texas and your grandma, you’re happy to be well removed from that life right now. Studio apartments are more your jam than living in trailer parks.

You decide that your anger with the issue is a good enough motivator to help you clean, which you’ve been sorely neglecting doing for far too long. You turn on your angriest playlist—Korn, Deftones, Slipknot, et cetera—and spend most of the day deep cleaning everything. The Deftones’ ‘My Own Summer’ comes on and you scream along to the lyrics. “Shove it, shove it, shove it!”

Not that it matters anymore. Two men have already seen your home in its state of disrepair, but it gives you something to focus on and decompress for a few hours, which is what you wanted.

You ponder texting Dave. Needing to vent to him or anyone since you don’t really have any friends that you talk to anymore. After some consideration, however, you change your mind. You don’t need to burden him with your bullshit. Least of all while he’s visiting his kids.

You settle on googling how to get rid of a hickey instead.

——

Max has never really dated anyone.

Not that he wants to date you.

He had tried to convince himself you were a one time thing. A quick and impermanent release of tension and little else. A means to put you in your place for publicly embarrassing him. So why can’t he get you out of his mind? Why have you been the first and last thing he’s thought about all day? He’s been fighting with his dick, trying not to think about yesterday, and failing miserably. He holed himself up in his office most of the work day.

It wasn’t just about the sex. It was more than that. But Max doesn’t date. He fucks and moves on. Simple as that.

But if that’s the case, why is he at The Beanery again, asking metal-face kid what your favorite drink is?

Vincent shrugs. “I dunno. She likes…cold drinks, I think?” he answers unhelpfully. Max isn’t a patient man. Or a nice one. But he’s trying, for you. He really is.

“You don’t know what she orders?” Max presses. His already paper thin patience is waning by the second.

“Not really,” Vincent responds. “Sorry.”

Max rubs his eyes with the pads of his fingers. He doesn’t want to show up at your door empty handed, although he isn’t really sure why it matters, or why he cares this much. He’s never wooed a woman in his entire life.

Flowers would be too romantic. He isn’t quite there yet. Not that he’ll ever be. But he needs to bring you…something, to make it less weird.

He’s fully aware he has no fucking clue what he’s doing.

“She likes the pumpkin fall latte. Iced,” another voice pipes up. A tall woman with brown hair that Max recognizes as the assistant manager steps out from behind a wall with a clipboard in her hands. Probably taking inventory, Max thinks. She doesn’t like Max—no one does, except Maury—but she wants to get him out of here ASAP.

“Thank you,” Max responds with a sigh of relief. “Thank you,” he says again, canting his brows in annoyance towards Vincent.

“I’ll take one. Large. And my usual.” He purses his lips, taking in a breath through his nose. “Please,” he adds, still trying his best, adding his signature crooked smile.

Sarah and Vincent don’t question why Max is asking after you or buying your favorite drink. They don’t care enough to know.

He runs the yellow tie around his neck through his fingers as he waits as patiently as he can manage, still struggling and failing to keep his dick on a leash. God, what the fuck is he doing?

——

God, what the fuck are YOU doing?

Max is at your door. And he brought you a gift.

He shoulders past you into your apartment without asking, causing your jaw to clench in frustration. He’s always doing that. Doing whatever the fuck he wants. It pisses you off to no end.

“You can’t just storm into my home, Max—“

“Here.” He hands you your drink which is partially melted due to the walk over, offering you his most flattering grin. He just wants to see you. He isn’t going to give up so easily.

You begrudgingly accept and take a heavy sip. It’s a nice reprieve from the rest of your day. You’ve been in a bad mood since the conversation with your mom, so sugar and caffeine are a welcome distraction right now.

You poured the time after you were done cleaning into your writing. Letting your anger guide your hand as you described the werewolf in your story tearing into Raye’s abdomen and slurping her entrails like meat spaghetti.

That isn’t where the story was going or what you had intended to write, but it helped to take some of the edge off. Until now, at least. You’ll change it later.

What’s more, you couldn’t find a good solution to your hickey problem, and you really hope they’ll be gone by tomorrow morning. You’re doing opening shift again. You wish Dave wouldn’t have left them in such an obvious, visible place.

Yeah, you really weren’t in the mood. Even if Max did somehow find out what your favorite drink is and bring it to you. What is it with men today, bringing you your favorite things…completely unprompted?

It’s baffling.

“Thanks, Max, for the drink,” you begin evenly. “I appreciate it, I do. But you need to go. I’ve had a weird day and—“

“What is that?” His eyes flash. He smirks, but it’s lacking mirth or humor. You don’t need to track their movement; you know exactly what he’s talking about.

“What do you mean?” you ask innocently, your hand involuntarily moving to your neck.

He grabs your arm to pull your hand away, stepping so close you can smell his cologne. His nostrils flare in anger. “Who did this to you?” he asks shortly, examining your neck.

The crass, cocky, self-important Max is gone. Now he’s just pissed.

“You did this to me yesterday, remember?” you retort.

“I didn’t do that. I did…this,” he explains, curving the back of his index finger against the vaguely incisor-shaped bruises on your neck. “But these? These aren’t my style.”

You step away from Max with a frown, taking another sip of your drink with your back turned. You aren’t beholden to Max. Or even Dave, for that matter.

“Did you fuck someone else?” Max accuses, stepping closer to you. “Who?”

“It doesn’t matter, Max. It really doesn’t.”

“It does matter.” He places his hands on his hips and stares you down.

“No, it doesn’t, unless it’s you, it’s none of your business who I fuck. And I’m not fucking you again, so get out,” you snap back.

Max isn’t going down without a fight. His lips twist into a grin, and he moves into your space, crowding you against the small table by your kitchen which you mostly use as a catch-all. It rattles as a result of impact.

“It was your white knight at the coffee shop. Wasn’t it?” he presses. He plucks your drink from your hand and puts it down on the table.

“No.” Your lips tremble. You’re a bad liar.

He raises his eyebrows in victory. He has you exactly where he wants you.

He isn’t sure why he cares. Or why he’s feeling so possessive over you. He barely paid attention to you before yesterday.

He cages you in with his hands planted on either side of your body on the edge of the table, nose bent to yours, looking down into your eyes. Brow wrinkled in disapproval.

“How does he fuck?” Max asks. Eyes burning holes through you, dick twitching in his slacks.

“Better than you,” you spit.

“Ouch, baby.” Max grabs the underside of your jaw, angling your head back, aquiline nose pressed firmly against your cheek. “Guess we’ll have to make a comparison then, hmm?”

Without warning, Max picks you up effortlessly and tosses you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. You squeak in surprise, your legs thrashing against his torso.

“Max, put me the fuck down!” you yell. He doesn’t listen, his hand firmly rooted in the small of your back until you reach the bed, dropping you face down on top of your bedding and pillows.

He mounts you from behind before you have a chance to wriggle away, his full weight pressed into you, erection dragging your ass. You can’t help it—you moan.

“How many times did he make you cum, sweetheart?”

“Max, that really isn’t any—“

“How many?” he growls into your ear, snapping his hips against the soreness of your ass.

“Five,” you admit in defeat. “Five. Can you let me up now?”

His lips pull back in snarl. “Mmm. I don’t know. It sounds like I have some catching up to do.”

You huff out a breath as he rises, flipping you onto your back and sliding your pants down your legs. You’d actually changed into something other than pajamas, for once, but you’re still devoid of undergarments. He eyes you hungrily, licking his lips.

“Did he fuck you rough or soft?” Max asks, undoing the cuff links on his jacket so he can shuck it off. He takes it off carefully, draping it over the back of your couch, and begins rolling up the sleeves of his shirt.

“Rough,” you answer, swallowing, watching him undress.

Max nods, eyes darkening with lust. He crouches in front of you, hands spreading your thighs apart. “That’s right. Whores always like it rough, don’t they?” You can feel his breath ghosting your inner thigh.

Fresh arousal seeps out of you, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Max. He grins up at you, visage remaining hard. “Looking real tasty for me, sweetheart.”

“Max…” you attempt to protest, but there’s little point. You’re fucked up as they come because you’re enjoying being used like this. Just a series of holes for both of them. One man didn’t want you, and now two men want you, at the same time.

It sure as hell made you feel a lot better about the entire situation. Empowered, even.

Your core throbs with more arousal as you imagine how it would feel to take them simultaneously; Dave pressed to your back with Max beneath you. Or Max fucking into you from behind as Dave spears into your mouth.

“Mmm. Such a good little whore,” Max coos, dragging two fingers through your slick. “Let’s start with the first of five, shall we?”

His fingers find your opening and he presses them inside, languidly rolling them inward, shallow to start and then traversing deeper. His fingers are already drenched in you by the time the meat of his palm reaches your entrance.

“She’s weeping for me,” Max muses, twisting his fingers to stretch you out more. “Isn’t she?”

“Mmhmm,” you moan, your hips mirroring the movements of his hand. “You feel so good.”

“Damn right I do.”

He opens you up further as he bends to lick a wide, slow stripe up your seam, a precursory taste, pausing at your clit to slowly circle it with the ball of his tongue. You’re impervious to stop your back from coming off the bed at the shock of it, Max’s arm sliding up to bar across your stomach to keep you pressed against the mattress.

“Don’t move,” he growls.

His mouth dips lower, hawkish nose grazing your clit as he does and you moan, writhing beneath him. His arm clamps harder.

His mouth finds your entrance and he begins fucking into you with his tongue. Your fingers dip into his dark, neatly groomed hair, twisting it, just to have something to grip onto while he works his magic between your legs.

Max finds himself grinding against the edge of the bed for some relief. He’s having a hard time not resigning himself to just saying ‘fuck it’ and sinking into your wet heat.

His lips move back up, tongue parting your seam, circling your clit again as he uses his other hand to slip three fingers into you.

Max hums as his lips close around your clit, the sound vibrating your bundle of nerves. You moan. “Oh god…”

Your fingers tighten in his hair. A simple action but one that spurs him on nonetheless, curling his fingers to fuck into you, lips suckling at your clit. It’s a struggle for Max to keep you against the bed.

He’s barely just started and you’re already about to lose it.

Max smirks between your legs. He briefly removes his arm from your stomach to free himself from his pants for some much needed relief, his cock swollen and aching as it springs free. He pumps himself a couple of times before moving his arm back to your torso, pinning you in place once more.

Max has always been more of a self-serving lover than anything. He had enough skill to pull at least one orgasm out of his partners, two if he was feeling generous — but five? He would never admit it, or even acknowledge it, but he’s more than a little anxious that he’ll be able to get that many from you.

He’s trying his damndest, though, as he applies more pressure to your clit, increasing the speed and force of his fingers inside of you. He ruts against the bed again, wanting nothing more than to fuck you into next Tuesday, but he can’t do that. Not yet.

There’s just something about you that makes him want to try. There’s also something about envisioning your white knight making you scream that’s driving him even further into a downward spiral of lust and longing.

His fingers curve just right, hitting the cluster of nerves against your cervix just right, lips suctioning just right, and you’re crying out Max’s name, chest heaving as you bear down on his fingers and cum hard.

He pulls his lips away, giving you some relief, riding out your high with his fingers until you whine for him to slow down. He does, but he doesn’t stop entirely.

“That’s one,” he chuckles, “Only four more to go.”

“Hey Max, um—“ you start, grabbing at the arm still barred across your stomach. It doesn’t move. “Before we continue, can we, establish a… safe word?”

Max pauses, lifting his face from between your thighs, to look at you. Really look at you. You’re serious. And it tugs at something in him. Sparks his imagination as to what your limitations could be.

“What did you have in mind?” The face he gives you is ponderous even as his lips still glisten with your slick and cum.

You look around. You don’t want to use ‘foxglove’, feeling that would be a bit convoluted and debased. You glance at the window sill, your eyes landing on the dead, brittle lavender plant you should probably get around to throwing out some day.

“Lavender,” you say. Because it’s dead. And because it’s also a flower, like foxglove.

He nods in approval. “Lavender,” he agrees. “If you want me to stop, you say ‘lavender’.”

He doesn’t give you time to process the thought before his head is back between your legs, lips sealing firmly around your clit, sucking hard. You buck your hips reflexively and Max pushes you back down with an irritated grunt, fingers marring your hip.

You resort to moving your legs when you’re unable to move your abdomen, and he pulls away from your cunt with a low snarl of disapproval, pinning your legs beneath his hands.

“Stop fucking moving or I will tie your limbs to the bed,” he threatens. You kind of want him to. And he absolutely would if he had a means to do all of them.

He goes back to lapping at your folds like a man starved, pushing you firmly against the mattress with all his might when your hips reflexively buck upward again.

It isn’t long before you peak a second time, your arms twisting the bedding because it’s all Max will give you the freedom to move.

“Good girl,” he praises, riding out the ebbs of flows of your orgasm. Watching your face, memorizing it.

His dick pulses hard and he can’t waste another minute without you sheathing his cock, all the noises you’re emitting in reverence of him turning him into some kind of feral, unchecked monster. He stands, removing the rest of his attire, no longer worried about being neat, tossing them wherever they happen to land as he rids himself of the hinderance.

He climbs onto the bed next to you, turning you on your side, resuming the same position from yesterday, sans tie. If he weren’t so desperate to cum, to make you cum, he would have taken the extra time. He likes you restrained and maleable.

But his yearning for you has rendered him restless and lacking patience.

If you and Dave are an incendiary mix, you and Max are a noxious one: two elements coming together to create an all consuming cloud of poison that steals your breath and chokes the person you once were right out of you.

He pulls your leg over his hip and slots himself between your thighs, palming himself as he glides the head of his cock through your slippery folds, gathering your slick and then pushing in until he bottoms out in a single thrust.

You are sore. Raw. Used. And you like it.

“Fuck,” he spits against your ear. “So fucking tight.”

He encircles your throat with a broad hand, tilting your head back and against his shoulder as he gives a few precursory slow thrusts, bottoming out and holding every third or fourth one, hips shaking with effort.

His grip tightens. Your vision swims and your core pulses hungrily around his length.

“You ready to get fucked like the little whore you are?”

All you can do is nod, unable to find your voice.

Max jerks your head back harshly. “Words, sweetheart. Fucking words.”

“Yes, I want you to fuck me now, Max. Please.” Your voice is pathetically small.

“Good girl,” Max commends, crooking his arm in the bend of your knee, splaying you open for him as he begins to rail into you with unbridled vigor.

You keen as he angles your head back even further so he can watch your blissed out face. Your mouth is hanging open in the shape of an O, a silent scream etched into your features. To his surprise, he almost finds himself kissing you, barely able to reel himself in from doing so. This is why Max doesn’t do face to face stuff—he doesn’t want his partners getting the wrong idea about him.

But with you he almost breaks.

Each slam of his hips is ludicrously loud. For a few moments you think you actually forget how to breathe.

He lets go of your leg and moves his fingers to where he’s currently cleaving you down the middle, dancing around your clit, flicking with expert precision.

“Yes,” you pant. “God, yes.”

“That’s right, baby. Wanna hear you,” Max praises.

He bites into the rounded hill of your shoulder, incisors bearing down, branding you with yet another mark in the shape of his teeth. At least this one can be hidden.

His pace doesn’t falter. While Max doesn’t share Dave’s calculating focus, he more than makes up for it with his tenacity and grit.

Your hips jolt when he touches a particularly sensitive nerve, your moans filling the air.

“That’s it, sweetheart. C’mon baby. Gimme another.”

You reach your third climax, your muscles briefly seizing under the duress of Max’s spell.

“Good fucking girl. Goddamn little slut, cumming as she’s stuffed full of my cock.” He presses his lips to the shell of your ear, whispering in a deep, dark timbre, “Two more.”

You whimper and shut your eyes. Max’s fingers never hasten their onslaught. Tears ring your eyes, body overwrought from the sting of overstimulation, but the last thing you want is to throw in the towel now.

“What would your white knight do if he were here right now? Do you think he would watch me fuck you?”

Max can feel your throat constricting under his palm as you swallow. “I- I don’t know.”

You already feel another orgasm building on the tail end of the last.

“Did he fuck you here? In your bed?” he presses.

“Yes,” you whimper.

“Mmmm,” he hums lowly. His dick twitches. He wets his lips, eyes trained on your face as he watches you. “Which hole did he fuck, sweetheart?”

“Max, don’t—“ Despite the humiliation you feel, you’re close, so close, to your fourth.

His fingers squeeze your face, digging in to the soft meat of your cheeks. “Answer me,” he tuts, gnashing his teeth.

“All of them,” you answer earnestly, honestly. “All of them… oh, fuck.” Your walls bear down hard, tightening around Max, vision pulling white as you pant his name on your tongue.

“You let him fuck your ass?” he barks into your ear. “You’re even filthier than I thought, you. God. Damn. Whore. Shit—“

Max can’t hold back any longer, scrotum tightening and cock pulsing as he pulls himself from your throbbing snatch in the nick of time, pumping himself in his hand and painting your inner thighs with thick tendrils of his spend. The groan that vibrates the barrel of his chest as he cums is inhuman.

He buries his face in the apex of your neck and shoulder, inhaling your post-coital scent. Savoring it. “Fuck. Fuck, sweetheart.” The edge in his voice is gone. It almost sounds affectionate.

He moves away from you, propping himself up on an elbow to admire the way his semen slides down the skin of your thighs. He swipes two fingers through the thickest part of it, bringing it to your lips. You open without hesitation, accepting him as he pushes into your mouth with a quiet murmur.

“Good girl.”

He grabs your hips, rolling you onto your back as he once again slithers to the lower regions of your body, eyes locked on your face.

“What’re you—“

Max shoots you a slanted grin. “You said five.”

——

It’s late. Too late, after a long road trip, after the stress and drama of picking up his daughters because Carol had insisted he was behind even though he’s sure he wasn’t.

Especially when you’ve been the only thing on his mind all day.

It’s later in the evening before he has a chance to check on you, his daughters already tucked away safely in bed. He sits at the table of his suite’s kitchenette and opens his laptop, dick already painfully hard and straining against his pants at the mere notion of seeing you.

Three clicks and he opens the camera’s live feed. The apartment is dark, and you’re curled up in your bed, watching television. He can’t make out what show it is at this angle, but from what he can hear, it seems to be some kind of reality medical show about weight loss.

He watches you like that for some time, palming himself through his pants, wishing he were there curled up with you.

After a while, when you don’t move, he clicks on the camera’s recorded footage and starts scrolling through.

Though you’re out of shot most of the time, he listens as you have the conversation with your mother, wishing he could pull you through the screen and into his arms. He can’t hear the full conversation, but he gets the gist of it, and it sends a dagger of pain through his chest seeing you so worked up.

He’s glad you’re well removed from that life.

After the phone call, you clean for several hours, before sitting down to write. He scrolls through most of that footage, pausing occasionally if something in particular catches his eye.

He stops scrolling when he notices your head lift toward the door. You get up from your chair, padding barefoot to the door to peek through the peephole. You sigh, shaking your head, reluctantly opening it for whomever is on the other side.

He can only partially see what’s happening, but he can make out enough to instantly recognize the man that steps inside.

Dave’s eyes grow a shade darker and his hand is in his pants before he even realizes what he’s doing.

He fast forwards to where Max already has you on the bed. By all accounts, Dave should be jealous. It doesn’t make sense that he isn’t, considering what Carol did. Considering that he nearly killed the man she was sleeping with with his own bare fists.

Given Dave’s skills and proclivity for killing, the man was lucky he didn’t.

But for some reason, with you, things are different. Everything with you is different.

Dave puts in his headphones as he continues to watch, letting out a quiet moan when Max’s face dips between your legs. The face you make is nothing short of euphoric.

He continues to stroke himself, precum leaking onto his wrist as he watches events unfold right in front of him.

He picks up his phone, thumbing the screen to get to your messages, opening it to type two words and hitting send.

Dave: Hey, you.

Your phone lights up a minute later.

—

Taglist: @ohheypedrito @kateispunk @survivingandenduring @annieispunk @awilderi @chronically-ghosted @onmysluttyknees @oberynslady @kellybelly1978 @sarap-77 @tb-gerschutz @daddy-dins-girl @alwaysmicado @morallyinept @guelyury @heavennumber2 @xxjigglynatxx @yippeeki-meow-motherfoster-blog

If I forgot anyone, please let me know! 🙂

#pedro pascal #writing #romance #smut #author #fanfic #pedro fanfic #max phillips #dave york

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iznsfw · 1 year ago

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IZ Days of Christmas 2023: Commissions Open!

Yes, that's right - this year, you can direct the IZ Days of Christmas fic for your favorite member!

So last year's attempt of IZ Days of Christmas was a royal fuck-up. I didn't even get to put out fics for some members on time. Hell, I didn't even put out a fic for two! Sorry, Yuri and Yujin :(

I don't want that to happen again. So now, before the Christmas season starts, you can commission a fic for your IZ*ONE bias for a low price of $12! I'm close to finishing my last three commissions and have closed them, so no one will be left out this time and I'll write it because I'm getting paid, duh :hannikek:

(Also, I have a shitload of siblings I need to buy Christmas gifts for, so please help me out here.)

Why $12? IZ*ONE is forever and always 12 <3

This year, I guarantee that every member will get a fic out for IZ Days of Christmas.

How do I commission you?

Just send me the form indented below when you order the commission on the link before it!

Commission me an IZ Days of Christmas fic!

> Tumblr username: > Ko-fi username: > IZ*ONE member: > Plot: > Kinks: > Extra notes: > A pic for inspiration and to help with the plot (optional):

Then, send the form through DMs, too!

First come, first serve. I will be accepting commissions until November 25, 2023. The posting of fics will start on December 14, 2023. The list below will indicate if a member is still available!

Kwon Eunbi (CLOSED)

Miyawaki Sakura (CLOSED)

Kang Hyewon (CLOSED)

Choi Yena (CLOSED)

Lee Chaeyeon (CLOSED)

Kim Chaewon (CLOSED)

Kim Minju (CLOSED)

Yabuki Nako (CLOSED)

Honda Hitomi (CLOSED)

Jo Yuri (CLOSED)

An Yujin (CLOSED)

Jang Wonyoung (CLOSED)

Rules

You have to be 18+ internationally to commission.

NO REFUNDS.

No scat, poop, noncon, three/moresomes. or bestiality.

No usual "Christmas" plot - it'll get a little too repetitive.

There is no word count limit or expectation that's promised. It can be as short as 3k words or as long as 10k!

We have the rule of confidentiality and mutual trust here. As long as you ignore any personal information you might see on my end, I'll cast a blind eye on yours <3

Thank you! Merry Christmas (yes, the Christmas season begins on the "-ber" months here.) Be the beautiful, horny people that you are!

#ko fi commissions #commissions open #open commissions #kpop smut #izone smut #ive smut #lesserafim smut #soloist smut #ko fi #ko fi page #ko fi link #ko fi support #writing commissions #fanfic commissions

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luvistqrzzz · 2 years ago

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L♡VE THEORY- sim jake oneshot teaser

i think im fallin' in you

deeply and slowly

NOTE- the earlier oneshot idea has been changed into an upcoming smau w changes to the plot, so check it out here!

PAIRING- jake x f.reader

SUMMARY- For you love was a game, like a theory better left un practiced. But what happens when you cross paths with Hybe Uni's star soccer player, Jake and sparks fly? Can he explain a way out of your love theory? Or will you get tangled in his games of love?

Alternatively where Jake Sim reminds you way too much about your first kiss from summer camp.

GENRE- fluff, angst, college!au, ex-crush!jake, crush/acquaintances to strangers to lovers, physics major!jake, photography major!reader

WORD COUNT- idk... hoping 8k to 10k// TEASER- 0.35K

TAGLIST- open! Send an ask or comment

@4hysgf @kishmish-ihate @noascats @tnyhees @beomgyusonlywife @txtbrainrot @chaechae-23

WARNINGS- profanity, drinking and college parties, jake being kind of a douche (dw he redeems himself!), more tba

RELEASE DATE- tba, but hopefully i'll finish writing this before my summer break ends

A/N- this is set in the same universe as The Accidental Polaroid, you can find some coinciding plot lines but the smau can be read as a stand alone ofc!

You were never good at sports. It wasn't like you hated the concept of it but rather you hated playing it. You had never been one of those physically fit and active people, eager to run around and multitask. Also you had terrible hand/leg eye coordination for a 20 year old.

When as a six year old, you broke your leg whilst playing soccer, you just grew a particular dislike towards it. Call it a childish habit or your inability to understand the game but soccer wasn't your thing. And that has continued well into your adult years.

Just like love.

Too bad for you, Sim Jaeyun loved sports. Or in particular soccer. Well, saying he loved it would have been an understatement because the boy literally breathed in the sport.

And it was during one such soccer match did you meet him. Normally you would have preferred to stay at home but majoring in photography had its pros and cons, one such being clicking pictures for the college's soccer team as they bathed in all their winning glory (or sweat).

You hadn't seen the players up close before but standing at the side of the field, your camera in action, you could understand why so many students gushed about their good looks. "Heartbreakers first, Heartthrobs second", your friend Kazuha had told you after her brief relationship with Taehyun.

You were, in all sense, a professional person. You weren't the one to be distracted by their looks, the game or the cheers the crowd erupted into when Hybe Uni won the match 1-0. But then you locked eyes with the star player of the match. It was like a flash, just enough for you to click a picture of him, not even five seconds but you felt yourself go still.

And it wasn't only because of the fact that the dyed blonde haired boy looked attractive with the smirk on his lips and the playfulness in his features as he stared straight into the camera. No, it was his eyes. His warm brown eyes that you had seen somewhere…

why are we so complicated?

love's a word i've always hated.

Feedbacks are highly appreciated <3!!

work belongs to @/luvistqrzzz do not copy, repost or translate my work

#📂.l♡ve theory #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen oneshots #enhypen smau #enhypen jake #jake x reader #enhypen au #enhypen fanfics #jake sim #jake enhypen #sim jake #enhypen #enhypen jake x reader

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gurugirl · 2 years ago

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The Man Next Door - A Sneak Peek

Note: I don't know when I'll be posting this short series but I do keep getting asks about it. This was an idea sent to me by @jdfan4life and while I do intend to finish it, I clearly have a bunch of other stuff I'm currently writing so it's not a priority. BUT I WILL FINISH IT! So, to tide you over here is a bit of a sneak peek below the pic. Enjoy! xoxo

Summary: Harry's your father's friend but he's also your best friend's dad so things are complicated.

Sorry guys, I don't even know if this is good. I wasn't sure what to pull for a sneak peek but this seems to tell a bit of the story without giving too much away. And as I've said before, I've only written about 10k words of the whole series so there's not a lot to share. Your feedback is welcome as always.

"Stop the elderly abuse. I'm fragile," Harry scoffs, his dimples making an appearance.

You both laugh as Harry keeps his hand over your wrist, holding your arm down by your side. Soon, your laughter dies down and you're both just sitting and staring at one another. This has happened before with you two but it's only happened a handful of times. And like every other time it's happened, you are interrupted.

"Morning..." you hear Robby's voice as he enters the kitchen. Harry releases your hand immediately and stands up to get a mug from the cupboard for his son.

Robby looks at you with squinty eyes and then at his dad. You shrug and continue to eat the last bit off your plate. Robby saw you two. He knew something was happening. He saw how you two were facing one another in silence. He saw how Harry was holding your arm down. He'd heard laughter as he left his bedroom so he knew that just before he saw the scene that there was something to laugh about. But by the time he got to you, you were both silent and staring at one another.

"How'd you sleep?" Harry asked Robby as he started the stove back up to make eggs for Robby.

"Fine. I'm not the one who drank too much last night. Surprised you're already awake in fact." Robby looked at you and sat down on the stool on the other side of you.

"I fell asleep as soon as I hit the bed. You on the other hand were up late flirting with Raul through text message." You laughed as you spoke.

Robby rolled his eyes, "Whatever. Just because you're not getting any doesn't mean you need to be jealous of me. I think we're gonna go out tonight actually."

You and Harry both stopped what you were doing and looked at Robby, speaking nearly simultaneously, "Really!?"

Robby looked at you and then at his dad with a furrowed brow, "What's with you two? I just saw you flirting and now you're speaking in synch with one another? Yes. I'm going on a date."

You looked at Harry and he gazed at you for a moment before clearing his throat, "Think you're seeing things, kid. I'm glad you're going on a date, though. It's good for you."

Robby sipped his coffee and shook his head, "I know. You should probably think about going on a date too, dad. You too." He looked at you and raised his brows.

"Why do I need to go on a date?" Harry turned around and brought a plate of eggs to Robby.

Robby sighed and looked at you before looking at his dad, "Cause I've literally never seen you go on a date, Dad. Her neither to be honest. You both should get out there, and find someone."

You breathe a laugh through your nose, "Oh, now you get one date, that you haven’t even gone on might I add, and you suddenly are the guru on love and relationships?"

"So?! Yeah, I haven't gone on the date yet, but it's still not bad advice, for you to go on a date. You and my dad should probably go together. It's obvious you both have the hots for each other. At least I know you like my dad and you’re fun to be around."

Tags: @michellekstyles @ssaama @sombrioinvernoemveneza @golden-hoax @a-strange-familiar @reveriehs @yousunshineyoutempter @the-gardener-31 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swiftmendeshoran @luvonstyles @dancinsunflowerkiwi @tiaamberxx @lukesaprince @harrys-foxy @dirtytissuebox @closureesny @lhharrylilpumpkin @evelynlarue @chaptersleftunwritten @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysmimi @itsgigikay @angelbabyyy99 @lllukulele @lanadelharry @novasblogofstuff @gills-lounge @damnasstyles @malwtilda @theroosterswife24 @0oolookitsme

#coming one day #sneak peek #dad's best friend harry #harry x reader #best friend's dad harry #harry styles #firstpost

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sugarskies · 1 day ago

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The Deca S1E4: Cat-astrophe || Recorded Changes

Rewrote select passages.

Corrected typos and errors.

Swapped the order of scenes 6 & 7.

Removed scene 9.

Replaced a handful of words.

Rewrote dialogue to be more natural.

Added a scene.

Fully rewrote and expanded the final scene.

Final Word Count: +46

Barnable's Behind-the-Scenes Babbles

i made it 5,200 words in before i had any deep thoughts on this one. specifically: what COULD mortimus do with a flying disc? i am 99% confident i never had an answer to that question. if i ever had even an inkling, it has been lost to time. this has left me (and you) with mere speculation as to what the hell jelpax suggested he might do.

while writing this note around the 6,000 word mark i have just realized that i've already deleted just under 1,000 words and i don't know where. i deleted one scene but it was only around 250. what were the other 750ish? where did they go? how am i going to get this back up to 10k? what have i done?

I DON'T LIKE THIS CHAPTER

now, a question that was dying to be answered: why did magnus sabotage ushas's experiment? doing it just because ushas was "annoying him" doesn't make any sense. not for magnus's character. so why would he do it, i asked myself, and the answer that came to me (surprisingly quickly) is that he did not. none of them would, so none of them did. what does make sense is an accident. an accident that magnus covers up because the culprit had a bad day and part of it was his fault and he's 100% comfortable taking the blame. he does it without even thinking about what he's doing.

also, this motivation required more explanation so i added a full new scene in before the meeting. partially because i was STILL MISSING 1,000 WORDS. now i'm missing a mere 400. how am i going to finish this chapter...

that last scene was hot garbage. i have no other words to describe it. just hot garbage. so anyway i rewrote that entire thing.

#i have no notes tonight #onto the next one...#deep sigh #deca fic revision #the deca #fic: the deca s1

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mylittleredgirl · 1 year ago

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20 questions for fic writers

thanks @annerbhp for the tag! i really enjoyed reading her answers too!

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

215

2. What’s your total ao3 word count?

646,705 (average of 3k per fic, which sounds about right)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

stargate atlantis most often, followed by sg-1, various star treks, and the x-files (with other miscellaneous fandoms on demand for exchanges and gifts).

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

No Sooner Met (voyager, janeway/chakotay)

Career Day (sg-1, mini!otp)

Next Chapter (the good place, chidi/eleanor)

First Date (voyager, janeway/chakotay) editor's note: man my title game was weak in my voyager era

Occupational Hazards (the good place, chidi/eleanor)

it's so funny to spend my online time in small or inactive fandoms and look at statistics because i'm like yeah... i'm kind of a big deal... people know me... i have many leather-bound volumes... and not a single one of my fics crack 300 kudos (& very few over 100). the person i reblogged from topped out over 9,000! what's it like to write long fics for popular fandoms? is it cool?

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

i do now! and it's awesome! for a long time i was intimidated by praise and had a hard time responding, but my brain works now and i really enjoy exchanging comments that turn into long threads of headcanon back-and-forth and sometimes new friends.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

oh god PLEASE let me unburden my soul about Twilight (sga, john/elizabeth). it's so uncharacteristically hopeless for me -- far future fic, complicated family dynamics, elizabeth has dementia and john is estranged from their son... really no one is having a good time. i think it's interesting and a cool departure from my usual writing style, but it's also a big sad mess.

i still feel sooooo guilty about these two thousand words of misery that i REGULARLY think about writing a sequel where john and his son fix it with time travel and mend fences. like i lie awake at night worrying about these characters because one time in 2007 i didn't give them a happy ending and suggested john might not break the bad father generational cycle. normal fic writer behavior.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Weaving Loose Ends (sg-1, sam/jack)! i love happy and hopeful endings but i think of all of them, this one is the most resolved and least complicated.

8. Do you get hate on fic?

nope. oh!!!! there was the one time when i caused Big Drama in a corner of the Dancing With The Stars fandom by turning people's headcanons into rpf, which everyone liked until one included porn. people got so heated with each other over this one smut fic (doxing! splinter factions! a fandom schism!) but somehow no one was ever actually mean to me. i didn't even get blocked or banned for my rpf transgressions, i was just standing there at the eye of the storm. so... i guess the answer is still no??

9. Do you write smut?

yes! i should probably write more, though. it has been all slow and gauzy the past few years, somebody should really get railed pretty soon.

10. Do you write crossovers?

nope.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

i don't think so. happily toiling in obscurity.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

back in the x-files days i think someone translated some of my doggett/reyes fics for a spanish archive, so those might still be out there.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

no i haven't!! i am really not doing well collecting my fic writer girl scout badges here!!

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

john sheppard/elizabeth weir my beloved.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but probably won’t?

i have 10k of an sg-1 episode-by-episode soulmate fic that started really strong and i would love to share someday, but i lack staying power so it will surely just go to seed in my dropbox forever!!

16. What are your writing strengths?

hopefully character complexity and dialogue. dialogue is interesting in fanfic, because the dialogue on many TV shows is really different than how real humans speak (it's scripted to be clearer, more concise and direct, uninterrupted, etc), so it's a fun challenge to balance that and get something that sounds both in-character and realistic.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

long fics!

the big related weakness is that i find it incredibly difficult to keep writing on a fic after i show it to anyone (as a sneak peek, or because i want feedback / encouragement / brainstorming help). i lose steam on my own, but posting or inviting other people into the process is like pouring sugar in the gas tank. why is that!! how do i fix this!!!

and i don't know if this is a "writing weakness" or an "egregious personal character flaw" but i sure did finish an exchange fic this year literally forty seconds before reveals, so that's... pretty bad.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

SO SCARY aughhhh my fear of Being Wrong really nukes me here. it doesn't even have to be a real language. it's like the ghost of JRR Tolkein himself is standing over my shoulder telling me that if i don't backwards engineer an entire proto-latinate space language instead of just chucking words into google translate and calling it Ancient i'm committing unpardonable sins.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

star trek! first internet-published fics were x-files, but first limited-print-edition fics were xeroxed hand-bound voyager stories my sister and i would give as "gifts" to family friends (and then stand there staring at them while they read the first few pages and told us how clever and creative we were and promised to "read the rest later").

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

new answer! i have always answered this before with ain't no sunshine (sga, john/elizabeth) or career day (sg-1, mini!otp), but i think i really stuck the landing this year on pieces (sga, john/elizabeth). which, incidentally, is the one i finished forty seconds before reveals so i'm definitely not going to learn anything from that narrow escape.

tagging @ussjellyfish if you haven't already done this one, @coraclavia, @havocthecat, @lonesomehighways, and anyone else who made it through this long post and would like to do it!

#fic writer asks #mai fic #long post #love that we're not waiting for asks and are just dropping the entire ask game worth of answers on everyone #read my navel-gazing thoughts boy

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sincerely-sofie · 1 year ago

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Check-in for October 25th, 2023

Welp, The Present is a Gift has officially broken 8,000 words and is rapidly approaching the 10k mark! Also, fun fact: according to the outline, I haven't even finished writing the first chapter. This terrifies me when I consider the later chapters which have way more plot packed into them.

Despite me writing out a very detailed plan for the project, it feels like I'm learning new things about the characters with every sentence I write. Twig is apparently a big fan of learning weird, obscure words and is sad that her old hobby of reading dictionaries has been dampened by her struggling to learn how to read footprint runes. You think you know a gal...

I spent most of today working on programming assignments and even got a nice comment on a past submission I sent in. In it, I mentioned single vs. double equals signs always tripping me up and causing bugs in my code--- turns out they used to baffle my instructor too! He's able to use them in their proper places without thinking now, which is encouraging. Regardless, I have never felt this audio more keenly than today:

youtube

I had planned on getting some practice with 3D modeling for low-poly V-tuber of my persona I've been jokingly working on, but that didn't work out as anticipated. I did spend a while admiring how I went from a giant gray cube to this, though:

Ahhh. Look at that beautiful skeleton. So few polygons. So few worries. If only I could figure out how make the pupils move or make a bow.

I also spent a while reminiscing about how Blender lit up in flames at one point and I didn't understand why it happened or how I got it to stop. That was a fun seven minutes of unadulterated terror.

I'm tempted to get back into Blockbench for its simple UI, but after learning the basics of Blender, I know it'd be unbearable to return to the rigidity of working in a program that's pretty much built for Minecraft modders. I just need to stick with Blender and find a few more tutorials to keep me going.

I will miss the fact that Blockbench automatically puts your model on a turntable and offers to pixelate it for you, though. It makes low poly modeling so cool so fast.

Just look at these things! They're so cool! I made them yet they look like something out of my fave childhood video games!

I tried to figure out Super Mario Paint this morning and ended up with my first finished song from that program. Tried importing a few soundfonts from other sources but had no luck getting them to work, and the song was definitely rough around the edges--- but I'm still really proud of myself for making a quick tune! It was a battle to figure out how to export the finished product, and I ended up just recording my desktop with OBS to get it to capture the sound and video together, then converted that video into an MP3 file. It was a very roundabout process, but still!!! I made a thing!

The Shy Guy and Boo instruments, as their flawless character designs may have you suspect, are vastly superior to everything else contained in the program. You can't change my mind.

Also, I was tinkering around with Chrome Extensions and found the most heartbreaking note in the description for one of them.

Tiny Sidebar developer, whoever you are, wherever you are--- I want to give you a hug and a slice of cake or two. Reading this activated my inner anime protagonist and I want you to know that there are so many good people out there, but they're quiet about their goodness. Bad people are just loud as heck and make scenes wherever they go.

With that sudden sappiness, I'm signing off on this check-in. Take a parting teaser for a future joke animatic as a palette cleanser. Depressed Friend will be Twig, Emotionally Stable Friend will be Celebi.

Sincerely, Sofie

#sofie checks in #3D model #3d modeling #blender3d #low poly #low poly art #mario paint #super mario paint #preptober #nanowrimo rebel #nano rebel #The Present is a Gift AU Update

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wannabegwenstacy · 1 year ago

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Writing Ideas:

okay, so this is what's gonna happen. i'm feeling manic and i got some free time from work and school currently. sooo..i'm gonna throw out a few ideas/teasers for some stuff i have in my drafts. if you like please tell me so i have some motivation to finish or even keep working on these ideas. thank you! ;)

Enrapture;

wordcount: currently at 8k...will most likely be over 10k and this planned to be part 1

pairing: Jimin x Taehyung x Fem. Reader/OC

tags: smut, fluff, childhood friends to friends w/ benefits to lovers, established relationship (friendship!), flashbacks, talk of college mayhem,

warnings: 18+ NSFW Smut, Alcohol Consumption, Talk of the Pandemic and Quarantine (it's set during the pandemic and the characters are in quarantine for part of it), talk of poor mental health (abandonment issues and some other stuff), masurbation, nudism, oral (m & f), nipple piercing (reader has them, vmin suck them), hair pulling (m), cock riding of the reverse kind, Taehyung has got a big dick but that's a given, cum eating, lazy eiffel tower..kinda, slight voyeurism, jimin at one point gives himself a hand job.

summary: When you you ended up moving in with your two best friends of 9 years to quarantine together during the pandemic the last thing you expected was to discover more about them than you thought you already knew. You knew everything there was to know about these boys so why does it feel so weird when one night after your celebration of quarantine being lifted when you wake up in one their beds all three of you together? this should be fine but it was far from just fine like you told them. This could change everything.

notes: i have been writing this for like 2+ years off and on. it's the first thing in my drafts lol like I add on and change things constantly. i want to finish it but this is the reason of my writers block/not posting. so i would love to get it out but i struggle.

The Boyz as College AUs

wordcount: sangyeon's aint even finished and its already 1.6k of bullet points. i have 11 members to write ranging from 1k - 2k words each..

tags: suggestive, maybe smut idk yet, fluff, crack, college au, very trope-y, i fell first but they feel harder trope, right person wrong time trope, slow burn bullet point style for most, slice of life, enemies to lovers!, best friends to lovers, okay you know what just assume probably every trope will be covered

warnings: possible smut..mdni, okay umm actual smut i just reread jacob's when making this 👀, talks of heavy anxiety, very cheesy, most likely all written lowercase on purpose, wip so not 100% sure of every thing yet

summary: this is gonna be formatted like my Bangtan in Bed thing I did years ago but more fluffy not so smutty. Pretty self explanatory but The boyz as College AUs! meaning how I imagine each of the boyz if you met them in another life in college.

notes: this one is my newest one in my drafts so it might take the most time to finish. might be a series but might be a master post we will see!

Bangtan in Bed: Jeon Jungkook | NSFW

wordcount: i usually do around 1k for these

tags: smut..and more smut

warnings: (this is the warnings i had from where i left off writing this part over a year ago. subject to change.) baby boy kookie, massages, dry humping, strong senses, sensory play, mood setting, daredevil kookie, risky sex, stamina control, strength kink, wall sex, shower sex, standing up sex, thigh riding, overstimulation (receiving), forced orgasms (receiving), praise kink (receiving), phone sex, guided masturbation, mutual masturbation

summary: how jeon jungkook might be in bed based off my opinion!

notes: i haven't touched this in a LONG TIME! I probably need to go back and change a bunch i already written. i also honestly need to go back and edit the other members to kinda see if they still hold up. I did get a request to finish this series a while back and it's been eating at me so that's why this is on here.

#eden's updates #eden's writing updates #the boyz #the boyz scenarios #bts #jungkook #jimin #taehyung #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #minors dni #jungkook smut #some ideas #please indulge me

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arenabreadandbiscuits · 7 months ago

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Me rn because I accepted a writing commission that I will in fact finish but annoying me a bit because

1. My cycle decided to start so my mood is up and down

2. The story has been changed like three times right now (as of typing this...), mainly due to misunderstandings (most on my side I guess but my commission list LITERALLY has rules though after this commission I see I'll have to highlight things)

3. The story has a character that's supposed to be from a whole other fandom so basically this is a split fic which wouldn't be an issue except for the fact that the other fandom is a manwha that I've NEVER heard of...

I know this really makes me seem like the one not prepared but this is why I have my posts, so that everyone can actually read through them and know what I'm all about. Bonus note: commissioner seems to be in a rush for the work though I mentioned that 10k words could at least take a week. At least. It's only been a day..

I'm having to continue off a story that was already started but not finished which I also wasn't expecting.. I don't mind finishing work other's started but let's just say that none of this was expected because I had assumed my commission post said everything it needed to. I'll have to make tweaks later...

One being that if you ask for a fandom that I DON'T have listed I will tell you to be just a bit more patient than someone who did pick off the list. I write commissions yes but ANY commission wasn't noted. Two being that I'm serious about taking in consideration my timing on posts, I don't like feeling rushed and I don't mind people checking on me but have mercy. I am still disabled and out of school for such with major levels of depression and mental health like that so not being rushed definitely helps me. I don't mind being checked on but breathing down my neck makes this harder for both of us.

Finally, I don't mind you ASKING about fandoms that's not in the list but just assume it'll be better if you just commission what's on the list.

Anyway, the list is HERE!.

Edit:

Hi! I'm pissed off! :3

So they said that basically what they asked for wasn't included in their story and decided to report me to PayPal. (I'll have to delete it because of course I don't have that money to give back.) PayPal isn't even letting me give my side of the story which was total bullshit.

You gave me a story that had already been started by someone else and based off of how you responded I can see why it wasn't finished. Especially if you were as needy for things as you were with me.

2 you ADDED A FANDOM IM NOT IN and though that's more on my I sent you a template! I asked you questions! And not once until up to the point of later in the story did you mention anything wrong with how it was going. I say in the original COMMISSIONS POST what fandoms I write for and though I'm nice enough to accept other fandoms I wasn't even aware that you were mentioning a second fandom until AFTER I had the money transaction with you.

You rushed me the first couple days which made me feel like I had to get everything done at a certain time.

I also didn't like your tone and I would have liked you to say something sooner if you weren't liking the story and no not things you prefer but instead things you WANT. It's like you've never done a writing commission before.

To this person I hope you have the day you deserve and I hope you're reading this rn even though I got your silly ass blocked. All I could think while working on your commission was how GRATEFUL id be once I got it done and over with and boy was I right. I mention my situation, I mention my case and the last thing you choose to do is be understanding. I have NEVER had an issue with a customer before you because the ones before you knew how to LISTEN.

Finally having you gone is the slightest my shoulders have been in a week, since the moment you showed up in my life and my dms. Thank you for finally leaving me alone. I don't even wish you any bad will or anything like that, I just wish you never came to me to begin with.

Edit2:

They made it a claim. I take back not wishing ill but ffs. Ugh this is why I if you want a commission to read the commission rules. I'm actually frustrated, I'm not dealing with this tonight. Imma go smoke and call it a day. 😒

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squarebracket-trickster · 1 year ago

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No you're completely right. I've seen a few other people in the notes who are still on their first drafts who are finding that a lot of the mainstream advice doesn't work for them.

Though I will weigh in on the "don't edit as you go" advice for first drafts because it worked really well for me.

The point of that advice is, if the words are flowing (and the concept is working) don't do anything that might slow you down. If you can think of what the next sentence is, write that. Don't tweak the current sentence. Just keep moving forward.

But if the words aren't flowing (or the concept needs to be overhauled) obviously there is no point in forcing something that isn't actually getting you any closer to a finished product.

Another other reason for "don't edit as you go" is to save time. If your second draft is going to involve major rewrites there is not really any point in line editing your first draft because you're just going to delete it anyways.

And for those of us stuck in perfectionism paralysis it can take away the pressure to do it perfect the first time or not do it at all. Opening up my first draft, riddled with spelling errors and cringey word vomit, made continuing to work on the project so much less intimidating.

That advice is generally geared towards writers (like me) who end up in an editing loop of the first 10k or so of their novel and can't seem to break free of it. Of course, it requires you to also be the kind of writer that has the plot pretty much figured out from start to finish before you even think of drafting. Or at least, be the world's most effortless discovery writer. So yeah, it doesn't work for everyone. But god it worked for me.

I think my main take away from many of the notes on this post is that writing advice is like math formulas. You can't just apply any formula to any problem and expect to get the right answer. Writing, like math, is about problem solving. You need to be able to identify the problem, and understand how different pieces of writing advice might address that problem, before you can know what piece to use. Just blanketly telling someone, "do this" or even, "if this is happening, do this" won't work a decent amount of the time because it's advice without considering what the actual underlying problem is.

For example, when someone tells you to take a break, that advice is meant for when the problem is that you are too tired to think straight, or when you have starred at a problem for so long the words have lost all meaning. It's not great advice when your problem is just "I don't like this sentence, I am going to keep rewriting it until I make a better one," and you're not too tired to think and the words haven't lost all meaning yet. It's can't be just "if you're stuck, take a break." It depends on why you are stuck.

Okay, sometimes advice that is good for a first draft does not work for later drafts.

Like, these are all things people have directly told me when I was talking about problems I was having in my 2nd and 3rd drafts.

Don't edit as you go. The whole point of later drafts is to make edits to the first draft...

You're spending too much time on this one section. Leave it and come back later. I uhhh... I did leave it. I left it and wrote my whole novel multiple times without touching it. Now is later.

Take a break. The inspiration will come. Actually, I don't need inspiration. I have written this entire novel multiple times. I think I have enough inspiration by now. What I need to do is problem solve. That means actively thinking about it, isolating the problem, brainstorming, and trying things. If I waited for inspiration I could be waiting years.

If you are struggling with the POV try changing it. Great advice if you can't seem to finish your first draft. Not so great if you have finished your novel and are just stuck editing a couple of paragraphs. Troubleshooting those paragraphs may take a while but I promise it is less work than rewriting the entire novel in a different POV. Besides, different stories work best in different POVs.

It doesn't have to be perfect. Yeah, uhhh, again, ever heard of the editing stage? Like okay, there are such things as impossible standards, but identifying a problem and trying to fix it is like, a normal part of writing...

Don't ever delete your writing. How else am I supposed to make cuts and edits??? I promise, my first draft (where I deleted nothing) is an untouched file saved in three different places and when I make edits I copy and paste sections into a new document. It's not gone forever. But be realistic. Most of that word vomit is not going to make it into the final manuscript. Believe it or not you do have to kill a few darlings in order for a book to be its best self.

Just write the dialogue. So uhhh... all the dialogue is already written. That's what a first draft is for. Maybe good advice for rewrites but uhhh... there does come a point when you have to write the rest of it.

And yeah...

Sometimes the only way out is through. Sometimes problem solving requires beating life into a dead horse. Sometimes inspiration isn't enough. Sometimes its not just okay but necessary to admit something isn't perfect and that it needs fixing. Sometimes its okay to struggle and be frustrated and that doesn't mean you should take a break. Sometimes there isn't a quick hack, change one thing, that will fix the problem. Sometimes writing is hard and there is no way around it. Takes breaks when you are tired yes, but if you're stuck for too long, I'm sorry but at some point you're going to have to face the problem and get yourself unstuck. You can't keep waiting for the problem to fix itself. It's not going to be fun though.

#i swore i was going to stay away from writing advice tumblr this time around #long post

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eeunoia · 2 years ago

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ENHYPEN Mini Series

E N H Y P E N as Greek Myths

ORPHEUS & EURYDICE

pairings: lee heeseung x reader

synopsis: you became the muse of the famous soloist, lee heeseung.

word count: 10k

important note: i originally planned to write enhypen as greek gods but then i didn’t find some love stories that i like so i end up using some love stories that aren’t greek gods. also these are like modern versions of greek mythology love stories.

warnings: LEE HEESEUNG IS A SOLOIST HERE. grammar errors, accidents, mention of death/suicide, angst and medical terms that are probably wrong. let me know if i missed some!

note📎: i hope you guys liked it! it really means a lot to me whenever you let me know what you think about them, re-blogs and comments are well appreciated. btw, i love you guys and thank you for supporting me up until now. have a nice day/night! 🤍

permanent tag-list: @rubyanne @en-sun @studioreader @map-of-border @hwangjangmi @crjwon @love13tter @kako-chan @classicroyalty @angel-hyuckie @jun-malone @ncityy04 @bridgebridgebirdiebridge @fearlesskz @abdiitcryy @hime98 @moonsclover @hoonstrology @ddeonubaby @yeoungie @acciomylove @mymeloem19 @jvngw0n @dreamyenskz @minamoons @clar-iii @notmyselfbuttrying @herasalvatore @nyfwyeonjun @rcveribin @yizhoutv @person-standing @black-bread1230 @one16core @sleepyenhasasha @soobin-chois @rcveribin @kyutiepeachy @chareadingpurposes @hwalllllllelujah @solelyenha @90sni-ki @nourhan-8 @nyfwyeonjun @nikipedia07 @yangbreads @drunkjazed @kimmchijjajang @hoonbrry @axartia @all4haru @hiqhkey @sta-rie @niinjo @ssomsworld @purplepuppychild @iceeee @wtfhyuck @tobiosbbyghorl @edensgardenn (still working on my tag-list)

tag-list: @luvvdsttfaye @nikililmj @psh-pjh @rylexe @095won @belle643 @luvrjn @jangwonie @softb-tterfly @3chae @jovibaes

“YAAAAAHHHH!” your head snapped over to the entrance of your room when you heard a familiar voice, yelling. With furrowed brows you watched how your bestfriend made a scene as she stumbles her way over to you. She was holding her phone as some of your classmates complain at why she’s shouting this time of the day.

Like how she would normally reacts, she didn’t mind them and just focused to arrive at the chair next to you. She sat down graceless as she sighs heavily to catch her breath. She seemed to run her way towards here and so you cannot help but to laugh at how messed up she looked right now. With light chuckles, you reached over her hair and fixed it slightly.

“What’s the commotion about, (friend’s name)?” you decided to ask her when you noticed she finally caught her breath and slowly calmed down.

She pursed her lips, eyes sparkling in excitement. Your head slightly leaned away to prevent on being hit by her phone when she abruptly showed the screen to you. Even if a little confused, your eyes shifted towards the mobile and scanned whatever that is that she’s showing.

Slowly, the creased over your brows flattened as you processed the words you’re reading at an article that was posted just minutes ago. It was already gaining so much attention but that’s less of your concern. Your mouth gapped as you finish reading it, your hand taking your friend’s phone from her hold like as if it was yours. Her smirk grew wider as she leaned over your table watching your reaction.

“I-Is this for real?” your tone a bit doubtful as your eyes scanned it once again, reading it from the top like you didn’t just did seconds ago.

She giggled excitedly, “Yes! Your Lee Heeseung is holding up a special event for his anniversary.”

You glanced at her direction still full of emotions. You couldn’t explain what exactly you are feeling right now but one of them sure is hopeful. Written at the article your friend just showed you is Lee Heeseung’s one year anniversary. If you may be asked who is he? You’ll answer right away that he’s the love of your life.

Almost everyone who personally know you are aware of your undying love for Heeseung. He’s a soloist in your country and very famous too. He’s tall, handsome, talented and sweet. He loves his fans so much and probably one of the most genuine person in the industry. You can see how much music really means for him and his passion over it makes it more obvious. He does loves music. And as someone who enjoys music so much, you fell in love with his voice and songs right away.

You’ve been his fan for nine months already and you must say you had listened to all his songs, watched all his tv guesting, watched his contents in youtube and many more. You did attend some of his gatherings but since you’re not really that wealthy, you couldn’t afford going all the time. You have to carefully pick which event to attend to in order not to waste your precious time and money. You’re not that poor, just average. But this type of things are something your parents won’t bother giving you money to spend on. So you’re the one to provide for your fee. It’s hard since you’re still a student and doesn’t have a job besides working on a café as a part time job.

You smiled a little at your friend while slightly pursing your lips and held both of her hands after placing her phone at your table. “Do you think I should join? I mean it’s a one in a lifetime experience.” you asked her while batting your eyelashes at her.

She chuckled and nodded her head continuously with no hesitation. You can see how supportive she truly is and you can’t be thankful enough for having her. You watch her face as your mind wanders about something about Heeseung’s one year anniversary celebration.

You glanced back at her phone and gulped nervously. You can feel yourself drying up with mixed emotions about the article that was flashing over your friend’s phone, the numbers of interactions kept on rising up.

Heeseung’s company announced that they will chose one of his fans to spend a whole day with him as a celebration for his one year of being in the industry. If you will think of it, it’s something you shouldn’t missed. An opportunity is passing by and at the back of your mind, even if its too good to be true, you should atleast give it a shot.

“What are you waiting for? Let’s go to the Library so you can send them your application letter already! You should atleast give it a try, you know?” and seems like your friend thought of the same thing too.

You smiled brightly and nodded your head before you two decided to go at the library to use the free wifi and computer that the school let the students use for free. It was supposed to be for academic purposes but who follow rules anyway? Where’s the fun of it when you won’t use your school privileges for your own advantage even just for once.

As you both stride over the hallway of your school, you can see some students eyeing your way. Probably finding you two weird for your actions but you couldn’t care more. All you can think about is the chance to meet up with your idol face to face and not just that. You can spend your whole day with him! How good is that can be?

“What should I write?” you groaned in frustration and even smacked your head slightly as nothing comes inside your mind.

You are now inside the library together with your friend and currently trying to write an email application for the event that Heeseung’s company announced. You were pretty confident before you arrive here but the pressure of not being picked suddenly ate it all up and now you’re starting to have mental block of what to put on it.

Your friend snickered a laugh as she rest her back over the chair beside you trying to think of a good start for your application. You both already figured that a lot, definitely a lot, of people will participate with it expecting from how big his crowd already are. Just by the thought of it, you’re already slowly losing your confidence. It seems to be impossible and you hate how your hopes are so high moments ago.

Your friend noticed the change of your expression and so she lets out a sigh. She doesn’t want you to give up this easily. She knew how much you wanted to be picked and how genuine your love for Heeseung is. She definitely thinks you deserve to see your idol.

“What did the requirement asked you two write about?” she decided to step in and take action. You glanced at her direction and pouts.

“It said here we should talk about how we became his fan.”

She nodded her head and didn’t say something for a while before she pulled a big smile. She clapped with slightly widened eyes full of excitement like as if she just thought of the most bright idea she can ever think of.

“Then write their your story of how you became! It’s not just an ordinary one, I’m sure you can capture the staffs attention!” she said and even taps you continuously like she can’t wait anymore for you to write it down.

You blushed a little after remembering the event and gave her a doubtful look, “(friend’s name), I borrowed a stranger for a taxi fare because I got lost and didn’t realized that I don’t have enough money to go home.” you told her the story and she just nodded at it and even tried shushing you as she already heard about that story for a thousand times.

“You realized that’s a little embarrassing, right?” you added but she seemed to occupied of putting your hands over the keyboard for you to start typing it up.

She nodded her head, “Yes and embarrassing is good content. Come on, start typing already.”

You looked at her with your ‘are you serious?’ look and she just tilted her head over the computer. You sighed and have no choice but to started typing your story about how you became a fan. As you were typing, you slowly realized that maybe she was right. This will somehow caught attention. Right?

“Are you still with us, Hee?” he sighs at what his manager asked him for the nth time. He nodded his head and continued scrolling through his phone.

He is listening to them while absentmindedly scrolling through twitter about tweets for him. His fans were going crazy because of the anniversary celebration. Honestly, he’s pretty excited too. He was the one who suggested it anyway.

Their stories were cute and surely heart warming for him but he kind of wished something that would be new for him. As he listens to the stories of his fans, he slightly realized that most of them have written almost the same thing. They knew about him because of an ad in youtube, because of the company’s promotions, from a friend and so on.

“Okay. Kindly read the next one.” his manager instructed the staff just beside him. She nodded and soon started reading the next application.

“It was the (day you became a fan), a Saturday night and I don’t know what got into me to impulsively go have a walk around this random area. Maybe just to get fresh air since everything was starting to feel heavy that time. I didn’t know that night that I will not find peace but also one of the person I will cherish up until now.” she smiles a little as she came to read the sentences that follows.

Heeseung was listening while stull mindlessly scrolling through his phone.

“When I was about to go home, I realized that I don’t have enough money to go home and so I did the most unexpected thing I would do in my entire life. I borrowed a taxi fare from a stranger that night. I was a little hesitant actually since that person seemed to be a little suspicious as he was all covered up. Wearing a hoodie, hair covering his eyes and with a mask, he just sat down at one of the benches there. He was the only one I could find and so I end up asking him for that favor. Luckily, he did gave me money. Yey!” the staff giggled after reading that paragraph as she finds the sender really cute. Even some of the people inside the meeting hall can’t help but to chuckle with her.

Heeseung’s finger halted from scrolling as he eyed the staff who’s reading. His hand slowly lowered as he heard that story of yours. It was very familiar for him and he can't help but to furrow his brows in curiosity.

“Wait, sorry. What date was that again?” he asked, interrupting the staff from reading further more.

Even if his manager was a little confused he remained silent and just watch Heeseung to start being more cooperative. “It’s (day you became a fan).”

Heeseung’s lips gapped a little as his mind slowly became blank. His heart skipped a bit.

“Aren’t you at that place too..?” his manager finally realized it too as the staffs around them started to look amused.

“Wait, you guys serious?” one of them even asked, couldn’t believe it.

Heeseung glanced at them then nodded as a small smile started to appear his face. Their mouth gapped as they all chuckled in amusement. “There’s no way...” she replied and still have that shock expression over her face.

Heeseung smirked, “Yes way.” he licked his lips and sat straightly, “Continue, please.”

Now he’s really hooked and he doesn’t know what to say. How playful destiny can be? He didn’t know that he will have their paths crossed every since that night. Yes, he did find it a little funny how she asked for a fare to a random person. She looked so cute and very shy that night. Heeseung can remember it like its yesterday. A smile plays through his lips as he remembers how your cheeks were like tomatoes as you continue mumbling thank you and sorry.

“As I get on the taxi and comforting myself that I won’t ever saw that person again, a song played over the radio. At the very first moment I heard him singing TWF, I fell in love with him and his music. Yes, I loved his voice first even before I can see his handsome face.” the smile on the face of the staff are very wide as she read that line.

Heeseung doesn’t expect that someone can actually make his heartbeat faster. He smirks and hand quickly went near his face, fingers started to play with his red lips. He’s slowly being occupied by your entry and didn’t even noticed how the staff and his manager were all touched and moved by your application. It sure does left a big impression to all of them.

“Heeseung,” he snapped back to reality and raised his gaze at the direction of his team. They’re all looking at him with anticipation over their eyes.

He furrowed his brows a little, confused. “What?” he asked with his eyes a little wider and looking so lost.

His manager chuckled, “We’re asking if you’re good with her already?” he teared his gaze and pushed a copy of paper towards Heeseung. “We have all her information here. The whole team really liked her entry and saying that we should just go with her.” he added.

Heeseung eyes didn’t left the paper that was right in front of him. It was the copy of your entry. At the top left part of it was a picture of you and he can’t help but his stares to stay.

“Y/n...” he uttered under his breath like as if he was summoning you to the room.

His fingers plays over the end of the paper as his eyes scanned the whole entry. There goes some of your personal information that the team can use to contact you for the event. He also saw the paragraph that the staff was reading a while ago.

A smile slowly crept over his lips, “Let’s go with her.” and taps the paper twice before thanking his team for their hard work.

“You done with physics already, y/n?” you didn’t glanced at your friend after she asked that question for you.

You’re both hanging out at your room because it was said that the company posted that they will announce the winner for the event today this afternoon. You figured that you need her moral support for this one. So you will have someone to jump and go crazy with if you’re picked and have someone to cry with if not.

You grabbed your physics notebook and turned towards her, “Here you—” you both jolted when you heard your phone ringing.

You yelped and threw your notebook towards the floor, stumbling down to go get your phone by the bedside table. Your friend sat up at your bed, looking excited and nervous.

When you look at your phone, an unregistered number is now flashing through your screen. You gulped and glanced at your friend. She mouthed, ‘answer it’ and so you did. You clicked the green button and with slightly shaking hands, you brought it closer to your face.

“H-Hello?" you gulped as you wait patiently for the person on the other line speaks.

It was just seconds of waiting but it feels like years. Your mind are blank and didn’t really know what to say or do. Your hands were shaking a little, knees are so close from giving up and cold sweats are showering you right now.

“Hi this is Hybe Entertainment. We’re calling Ms. y/n, right?” the staff asked. Her voice were sweet and the words that you heard are even sweeter.

Your heart skipped a bit. Hope can’t help but to arise when you heard enthusiasm over her tone or you’re just making that up. You have no idea. Just being called by a Hybe staff was already an achievement.

“Y-Yes.” you swallowed and even that was a little difficult as your body are starting to stop functioning properly because of this situation.

Your bestfriend pursed her lips and even rested her ears over to the phone just beside your head to listen to it as well. You couldn’t care more, you just let her.

“We’d like to inform you that you got picked for Lee Heeseung’s first year anniversarry event.” she said and just like in the movies, you felt like everything in your world just stopped. Your mind went blank as you blinked slowly trying to get out of the trance. You just couldn’t believe what you heard.

Your heard snapped over to your friend when she started shaked your shoulder while muttering incoherent words silently. You couldn’t exactly understand what she meant but when you saw how she pointed on her phone.

She was almost screaming in a muted way that made you slightly laugh. She looked so cute being all supportive.

“A-Are you serious?” you finally got your tongue after spacing out and feeling your ears being blocked.

The chuckles from the other line made you glance away from your friend. Your heart skipped a beat once again. You are so thrilled, happy, excited, worried and nervous. Just all of that mixed together but happiness sure is my cherry on top.

“Yes. We will text you the details for the pre-interview. You already know the rules, right? You can’t tell anyone about this until we officially announced it. See you soon, Y/n.” she said in a softest tone and you couldn’t even properly say good-bye to her because you’re still processing everything.

When the call dropped, your hand fell like as if it loses its own life. Your friend quickly went in front of your view and looked at you, waiting for an update. You glanced at her direction.

“So?” she gulped, you can see she’s as nervous as you. “What did they say?”

You pursed your lips as your eyes started to get teary. You sniffed and pulled her into a tight hug, your heart bursting our of happiness. Your friend embraces you too.

“Yah, why are you crying?”

“Because I get picked!” you replied and she forced you to lean away so she can look at your face.

When you pulled away, you saw her eyes were slightly teary as well. “I’m so happy for you!” she genuinely said and hugged you again.

You two were like crazy while jumping around, screaming hugging each other. You both giggled as you let yourselves fell over your bed. You stared at your ceiling, trying to sink it all in.

“It really happened, right? They called me?” you asked like you’re starting to really go crazy.

She turned and lay on his stomach, “Yes! You need to wear something really pretty that day!”

Your eyes grew big at that thought because she’s so right. It’s just going to be one day so you want to look at your best when that day come. Your shoulder fell a little at the thought that you probably don’t have money to buy an expensive dress.

“I don’t think I can provide a good—” your friend quickly cut you off. “You can borrow my dresses! I have some at home that I haven’t still used.” she said with big smiles.

You pouted before pulling her into another embrace, “Thank you so much (friend’s name)! You really love me!”

“Ew, get away!” she said in a teasing tone that you only responded by pulling her into a tighter hug.

You both laughed and giggled together while imagining what stuff you will do with Lee Heeseung. You screamed inside your head. Just by imagining it, you can already feel butterflies inside your stomach.

Both of your heads snapped back towards your phone when you received a message. You sat up abruptly and grabbed it to check the message. It was from the number who called you a while ago. Like she said, it was put there that you have to go to the hybe’s building at Saturday, 5pm to have your pre-interview.

“I don’t think I can sleep tonight.” you said still spacing out a little. You’re walking her out of your house and she just chuckled before pinched your cheeks.

“Enjoy daydreaming the whole night.” and you pouted before she waved you good-bye.

You let out a sigh after you closed the door and fight the urge kf screaming because of the overwhelming emotion you have at your chest. After calming down a little, you sighed and started heading back towards your room. You still can’t believe it.

“Hello, goodafternoon.” you greeted politely the girl at the lobby desk. She eyed you with curious eyes as she waits for what you’re going to say next.

“I’m here for the pre-interview for Heeseung’s anniversary event.” you said, mind in a cloud nine as you show the photo the staff sent to you. They had mentioned that you need to show it in order for them to let you in.

The staff broke into a smile before giving you directions of where you should go. You smiled back and bowed a little, thanking her. You started walking towards the elevator with nervous heart. You can almost hear your heart beating so damn loud. You were alone at the elevator and you saw at your reflection that it was so obvious how you’re feeling nervous.

You sighed and tried calming yourself. “Calm down, Y/n. You don’t want to mess up anything, right?” you talked to yourself.

It kind of helped as you noticed yourself finally more calm than a while ago. Your heart is beating a bit more slower too. You stepped outside of the elevator when you arrived the said floor. You huffed before walking towards the room you were asked to go to.

As you arrived in front of it, you started to feel nervous once again. A lot of thoughts suddenly came inside your mind. Will Heeseung be there too? Your heart fell just by thinking about it.

You raised your shaking hands and knocked twice.

The door opened and it revealed a girl. She smiled at your right away, “Hi Y/n. I’m (random name), I’m the one who called you. Come inside.” and she even opened the door even wider for you to be able to come in.

You thanked her shortly and walked inside. At first look, you started to feel tensed when you noticed a lot of people were inside but there’s no Heeseung around. You felt a little disappointed but at the same time, relieved. You blushed and hesitated to take further steps when you saw how a lot of cameras were positioned as well. It seems like its his whole team.

“W-What...” you couldn’t continue what you’re about to say.

(random name) chuckled behind you and slowly guided you over to the chair right in front of a big white background where all cameras were pointed at.

“Don’t be shy! We need to interview you on came for the documentary. Don’t worry.” she encouraged you and even made you feel less pressured.

Some staffs smiled at you and one of the make-up artists even went close to help you with your hair since you didn’t really came prepared. She smiled and did small touches since she said you already looked good. You can’t even thank her properly as your mind started to float once again. Someone helped you wearing a mic too. You blushed, you just watch idols do this. Why is it happening to you now?

“Hi y/n! I’m (manager's name). Heeseung’s Manager.” a familiar man approached you while you’re being wired. Your eyes grew big and accepted his hand while bowing politely.

“Oh, hi Manager-nim!” you greeted. He chuckled and even wished you goodluck for your interview.

When you’re set already, you are asked to walk in the middle and have a sit over the chair. You sighed and slowly followed the instructions.

You felt really awkward having these many camera pointed and recording you. There’s also a lot of people in front, watching you. You gulped and unconsciously bit your lower lip, fingers fidgeting. Is this what idols view whenever they film something? Now you really respect them for acting so naturally. This is hard.

“You can relax, y/n. Loosen up a little, okay?” (random name) told you with a smile. You broke into a smile after heaving a smile and nodded at her.

“Avoid looking at the cameras, okay?” the camera director even ordered you. You quickly glanced away as you answered a short ‘Okay’.

“Wah, she looks pretty.” your eyes darted at one of the staffs when you heard her comment. She was looking at the monitor right in front of them and because of her comment, some staffs started to admire you as well.

You got flustered that made you blush. Soon, (random name) started the interview. The longer you stay there, the more you started to feel more comfortable. Since the staffs were all accomodating and nice, it was easy of you to feel at ease.

You laughed when they all giggled after you told them the story when you first became a fan. They were giggling at the embarrasing moment so you couldn’t help but to chuckle as well.

“Did you promised to pay him back?”

You smiled, “I did but I knew to myself there’s a little chance of seeing him again.”

Some chuckled, “Didn’t you asked for his phone number? Socials?”

You pursed your lips trying to remember that night, “I did. But he was quick to refuse and just gave me the money.”

Their mouths formed ‘o’ and the interview went along again. It went smoothly and ended even before you know it. You thanked everyone for working hard and you thought they will ask you to go home already but (random name) pulled you somewhere.

When she opened the door for you, two people are already inside. One was Heeseung’s manager and the other one...

“Hi Y/n.” he greeted you with a big smile over his handsome face.

You stood still right by the door and blinked twice with a dazed look at your eyes. You couldn’t believe it. You wish someone would slap you that time to wake you up incase you were dreaming.

“No way! You know my name?!” you exclaimed and he just chuckled because of your reaction.

“Of course.” he said shortly.

He stood up and you almost gasped at how he’s so tall especially in person and at this distance. Your heart almost came our from your ribcage because of what’s happening right in front of you. He walked closer and extended his hand.

“I’m Lee Heeseung.” he introduced himself like as if you doesn’t know him and like you’re not here for an interview for his first year anniversary.

You shrieked a little as you accepted his hand. It was bigger than yours and surely very smooth! You have came up with a plan of not washing your hands anymore.

“Oh my gosh, you’re real!” you said even before your brain could stop your mouth. The people inside with you guys laughed together with Heeseung because of your cute reaction.

“You two should have a seat so we can discuss about your date.” the staff said and he nodded his head before pulling the chair beside him for you.

You bit your lower lip and hitched your breath. A date! Date with thee Lee Heeseung. What more can you wish for? You’re literally winning in life. How can something this amazing be happening to you? Did you save the world in your past life?

“So Y/n what do you want to do that day?” the staff asked you and even if you’re very distracted by the person beside you, you tried to pay attention.

You glanced at Heeseung who’s staring at you and it made you blush instantly. You gulped and his manager slid a water bottle over your way. You thanked him and was about to open it but a hand grabbed it as well. Your heart jumped at the short touch of your skins.

“S-Sorry.” you apologized. He smirked and shook his head, “I’ll open it for you.” he said and you just nodded your head.

The staff once again called your attention and repeated her question. It made you furrow your brows in confusion. “Eh? You mean I will get to choose what to do in your special day?” you asked glancing at Heeseung.

He pursed his lips in a cute way before nodding his head. “It’s a special day for both the fans and me so yeah, you can pick.”

You pouted as your mind trailed to think of what to do. They all waited patiently for you, trying to discuss some things.

“Let’s just do whatever you wanted to do in your free time. It’s your special day. Being a part of it was already a big privilege.” you said that caught their attention.

You eyed Heeseung seriously to let him know that you’re perfectly fine with whatever he wants to do. It was a little hard because you have to stop yourself from screaming so loud because he looked so good right in front of you. To meet him and have the chance to talk to him like this is just sureal.

Heeseung broke into a genuine smile, “Alright. Thank you, y/n. I’m really glad that you’re here with me right now.”

You blushed at his words so you quickly glanced away, “Y-You don’t have to thank me. Let’s just enjoy since that will be your first year anniv.”

He smiled and nodded, “You’re right. See you.”

“Is everything set? How are you feeling?” you glanced at your bestfriend with a weird looking face. She gave you a judging look.

“Yah, stop looking like you’re constipated. Don’t tell me you’ll be like that all day?” she scolded you.

You let out a frustrated groan, “I feel so nervous, (friend’s name)!” you exclaimed for the hundreth time probably. She rolled her eyes and cupped your face so you can look at her straight in the eyes.

“Look at me. You look so beautiful today. Be confident and enjoy the whole day with him. This is a one in a lifetime opportunity, let me just remind you.”

You stared at her for a while before you pursed your lips and sighed heavily to gather yourself. You shut your eyes for a while before sighing. Your friend was right.

“You’re right. Thank you (friend’s name).”

She rolled her eyes playfully, “What will you do without me?” she said with a smug face.

Your heads turned when you heard a car pulling right in front of your house. She walked closer to your window and secretly checked it out. She yelped and alarmed you.

“They’re here! You have to go!” she said and even pulled you so you can go already.

You sighed, starting to feel nervous once again. You saw your Mom by the end of the stairs, she probably saw the vehicle outside. She smiled warmly and fixed your hair a little. “Enjoy your day, sweetheart.” she reminded you.

You nodded and gave her a hug before waving at the both of them. You were sighing continuously as you approach the vehicle.

You thought you already mentally prepared yourself but you were wrong. The moment the car’s door opened and you saw how handsome Heeseung is. You gasped lightly and after you sat down, you stared at him starstrucked.

He chuckled while looking at you. “Why?” he asked, giggling.

“You look so handsome.” you said sincerely.

He laughed but you noticed how his ears turned red. “Thanks, caught that on camera by the way.” he said and your eyes grew big.

You just noticed how there are cameras placed inside the car and he’s also holding one. You are so focused to him that you failed to notice him.

“Why you suddenly went silent?” he asked chuckling because of you.

You pouted as you glanced at him, “I’m shy.” you admitted and Heeseung lowered his head while trying to hide his smile from the camera. You are so cute.

“Don’t be. You look so pretty.”

You stared at him and blushed hardly. He chuckled at the way he can affect you. He then tried to comfort you and tell you that you should just act like as if it’s just the two of you. You tried your best to agree and nodded your head at his tips.

“I brought a polaroid. Is it okay if we take pics today and I keep it?” you asked a little hesitant. He nodded happily, “Sure.”

The first stop for your date was to a tailor shop. He said he wanted to have a suit for himself and you’ll going to help him choose. You felt really excited and you’ll surely have fun dressing him since everything looked good on him.

“What do you think?” he asked and showed you two of the suits that caught his attention. He looked at you with anticipation while waiting patiently for your comment.

You furrowed your brows and tried thinking about it carefully like as if your life was depending on it. You were holding the camera, you’re not even sure if you’re doing the right thing or if you’re getting a good shot of this view.

“This one.” you finally made a decision and pointed the navy blue one.

He smiled wider, “This is what I wanted too. You have good taste, huh?” he said complimenting you.

“Yes that’s why you’re my idol.” you fired back at him that caught him off-guard. You chuckled when you saw how he’s now flustered. You even tried filming it and he just shrug it off before tilting his head.

After fitting it, you’re just at awe at how good his proportions looked like. He’s so perfect for you. He just asked for some adjustments for his desired fit and now you’re off to go have some coffee at a dog’s cafe. You’ve been looking forward to this because you like dogs. They just bring happiness to you in some way.

You yelped in excitement as you kneel in front of this cute dog that greeted both Heeseung and you the moment you entered. He smiled and filmed you while you give affections towards the dogs that are crowding you right now.

His smile is very genuine as he watch you over the camera’s small screen while he make sure he’s getting a perfect shot of this moment.

“You’re pretty popular.” he commented and you glanced up at him then flashed a proud smile.

“I know right? Who’s the celebrity again? I guess they like me better.” you joked and Heeseung can’t help but to laugh at you teasing him.

He decided to order for the two of you and just let you have fun with the dogs. The moment he went back at the table, he saw you carrying a small dog while staring at it affectionately.

“What do we have here? Hello, cutie.” he greeted the small dog and even gave it gently pets.

You pouted, “He just suddenly jumped over my lap and doesn’t want to leave. I think he just fell in love with me.”

Heeseung smirked as he stare and watch you carefully. He chuckled and sat down before saying, “Can’t blame him.”

He silently thanked the dogs that are barking around because you didn’t quite catch it. You two enjoyed your time and decided to go to a coin karaoke to hang out there for a while before having dinner.

You requested for him to sing one of his songs that he quickly obliged. You think you just fall in love with him even more after that experience. After that, you two enjoyed dinner talking to each other and trying to get to know one another. You even forgot the fact that you two were vlogging it.

After dinner, the company driver together Heeseung’s manager drove you two towards somewhere. When you noticed where it was, you blushed.

“Let’s go.” he said and opened the door for you.

“Cameras?” you asked because you noticed he isn’t holding one anymore.

“We won’t film this one, y/n. Let’s just enjoy the time together.” he said and that made you smile wider.

You’re at the place where you borrowed a stranger for money. You don’t know if you should be bothered or shy but you think this was just okay. This is the main reason why you got pick so this place will always be memorable.

“Do you ever wish you can repay that stranger?” he asked you suddenly while you two walked side by side.

You are now wearing his hoodie that he lend you before you two went out of the car. You are playing with it strings as you blush hardly. You can even smell his scent from this jacket!

“Yes! He was the reason why I got home safely and even managed to listen your song at the radio.” you said and stared at the view.

Heeseung smiled, “Then repay me.”

Your brows furrowed before you slowly glanced at him with confused face. “What do you...” your eyes grew big as one of your hand went over your face to cover your gapping mouth. “Are you serious?!”

He chuckled and nodded, “The hoodie you’re wearing right now was the one I used that night.”

Your mouth gapped even more and you were left speechless because of it. Heeseung chuckled at your cute reactions. You were so embarrassed after knowing about it but he just kept laughing and assuring you that it was so cute.

“How can I repay you?”

“Hmm, I’ll think about it. Just remember that you have to grant me a favor.”

You nodded continuously. “Sure!”

As you both walked under the bright moon, enjoying the night breeze and comforting silence. You slowly trailed back at the whole day. You still couldn’t believe all of this happened. If this was a dream, you don’t want to wake up.

“Did you enjoy the day?” you suddenly asked Heeseung. He glanced at your way and furrowed his brows.

“Huh? Aren’t I suppose to ask that to you?”

“No, its already given that I will enjoy. I really had a great time.” your comment made a warm smile appear over Heeseung’s face.

“Glad to know.”

“How about you? Did you enjoy?”

You were waiting patiently for his answer. Hoping that he would atleast say yes.

He smiled, “I’ve never enjoyed my day off like this before.”

You broke into a warm and relieved smile. “That’s a relief.”

You two continued walking once again. He sighed and glanced at you, “Is it true you liked my voice even before actually knowing who I am?”

You nodded right away, “Yes. I do know your name even before that but when I heard your song playing I got captivated by your voice.” you you started then glanced at his way. “You really are born to make music, Heeseung.”

Heeseung’s heart skipped and he suddenly felt so happy just by hearing those words coming from you. A lot of people do compliment him for his songs and how he’s so good about it but to actually heard it from someone who come to like his music before his face, was something else.

“Thank you. That means a lot.”

You smiled. “No, thank you for making us happy and making good mucis. We will always be here for you so please don’t overwork yourself? We’ll support you no matter what so don’t be pressured.”

Heeseung broke into a wild smile before raising his hand and pinching your nose a bit, “Noted.”

You both chuckled as your hearts skipped its beats together, a bond and connection blooming without you both even knowing.

“OMG!” your friend screamed and you were quick to shush her. You two are inside the class and you are telling her about the day with Heeseung.

She was blushing and just giggling with you from the start of your story like as if she’s hperventilating from all your moments with Heeseung. You’re also informed that the video will be up next week. She said she’s very excited about it.

“I think he likes you.”

You blushed at her comment and quickly took a sip from your drink to chill yourself. “I-Impossible.”

She still pushed that thought for days. Sometimes, you will find yourself spacing out and reminiscing of your moments with him. Its been days already but you can still remember his pretty smiles, his laugh, his bright eyes, his smirk, his scent, his gentle gestures and his warm expressive eyes.

You snapped back to reality when the bell rang, signalling that your last class are finally over. You stood up and fixed your things to go leave already. Your bestfriend and some of your classmates are planning to go eat somewhere.

As you stride the crowded hallways of your school, they kept talking about what food you should eat. You’re silent and joining from time to time.

Your brows suddenly furrowed in confusion when you saw an unknown number calling you.

“Hello?”

“Hi y/n.” your eyes grew big after hearing his familiar voice from the other line.

“Hey, who is it?” your friend noticed your expression and slightly feel worried.

“U-Uh, my Mom. Excuse me for a minute.” you reasoned out and she just nodded her head then focused back to your other friend.

When you manage to move away from them or from anyone, you put your phone back over your ears.

“Hey,” you said, gulping nervously.

“So I’m your Mom now?” he asked with a teasing tone.

You blushed feeling embarrassed for your sudden reason.

“I’m sorry. I can't think of any excuses. Why did you call by the way?”

“I’m right outside your school. (school’s name), right?” he asked.

You’re stunned at what he said. “You’re joking.”

“No, I’m not.”

You bit your lower lip, “Why are you here? And in broad daylight too?”

He chuckled, “Its fine, I’m in disguised.”

You scoffed, “You have a light pink hair, even if you’re wearing a hoodie, you’ll catch attention.”

He snickered a chuckle, “I dyed my hair back to black. Want to see it?”

You gasped lightly, “Wait for me.”

He laughed and bid goodbyes with you before you went back to your friends. You excused yourself and told them that you have an emergency. They got worried but you assured them that it was already taken care of.

You left and hurried yourself to go see Heeseung. It was easy to spot him since he’s very tall and just from a far, you can already tell who he is. You can even catch some students eyeing his direction for a while. Your steps were quick so you can stop him from gaining more attention.

“Hi,” he greeted in a cute way. You bit your lower lip and waved. “Hello, what are you doing here?”

“I want to see you.” he directly said that made you blush.

Even before you can say something, he gently grabbed your hand and started pulling you towards somewhere.

“Let’s go.” he said and you two ended up in front of a car. He opened the passenger seat for you and even if you’re a little confused, you went inside.

He walked around towards the driver seat and went in. “You could’ve just waited here, you know?”

He shrugged his shoulders off, “I want to wait for you because its how its done.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “Huh?” he just ignored your question. When he’s settled in, he removed his hood, cap and face mask. Your mouth gapped at the breathtaking view in front of you.

“Y-You looked so good.” you commented and he blushed right away, satisfied at your reaction. He was stunned when you stretched your arms closer to him and carefully ran your way over his black soft hair.

His eyes shuts at the sensation as he gulped, feeling your effects on him. He knew that night that you’ll be a big part of him from that day

“Thank you.” and he raised his hand to hold yours. The warmth made you flustered as your eyes darted over his affectionate ones.

“U-Uh, where are we going?” you tried diverting the topic in order for him not to notice how you’re very much affected by him.

Your past self would be very surprised how you’re talking and spending time with Heeseung very casually right now. Maybe because he made you feel comfortable and assured you that you can act normal around him resulted for less awkward atmosphere between the two of you. It’s good actually. You’re happy with this.

He asked you to put your seatbelt on before he started driving off. “I’m taking you to my studio.”

Your eyes grew big in excitement. “For real?”

He hummed as an answer and you almost scream, “I’m excited.”

He just chuckled and you two eventually fell over some random topics. When you arrived, some staff greeted you as they remember you. Heeseung was in front of you, holding your hand as he pulls you inside.

You feel a little awkward because after they greet you, their eyes eventually dropped down to your intertwined hands. Heeseung seem to not mind but you’re a little shy because you feel like they’re thinking something between you is going on.

As you arrived, he pulled a swivel chair and made you sit down. “Do you want anything to eat or drink?” he asked as he grabbed the remote to his aircon to turn it on. You asked for water and he just nodded then typed something at his phone.

“Why are we here?”

“I’m letting you hear the song I wrote after the night we spend together.” he said and you can’t help but to blush even more.

“Really?” you asked and he answered with a nod before gently placing a headset on you. You’re just staring at him and him as well, like as if your eyes were communicating silently.

A calming melody started playing and your heart beat fast just by hearing that new song he made. His smile grew big at satisfaction because it seems like you liked it so much.

“What’s the title?”

He smiled, “Polaroid Love.”

“Polaroid love?” you sounded so confused so he chuckled and licked his lips before answering, “Yes.”

You nodded and soon he explained how he came up with the song. You were just silently listening and admiring him. He was just there, telling you all about his hard work. Your heart was full just by seeing him enjoy everything. You’re glad to see life flashes over his pretty eyes as he talks about something he really enjoys doing.

“I’m proud of you.” you suddenly blurted out that made Heeseung silent. He was surprised and felt his heart dangerously racing.

He smiled, “Thank you. This is for you.”

The vlog for his event was released the day after and your whole school went berserk after finding out you were the lucky fan that was picked. Mixed of reactions were there, some were upset, some are surprised, some were happy for you and some just don’t care. The vlog turned okay, you both looked so happy together and some even said that you seemed like loving each other’s company.

Ever since that day, you two started to became more close. Heeseung started calling you randomly, updates you randomly and vice versa. Your feelings for him soon deepened that you’re starting to worry because you’re afraid that he doesn’t feel the same.

“Sorry for answering late. Hi,” you apologized after picking up his videocall. You were busy with a schoolworks and didn’t noticed that he was spamming you calls.

His face was near the camera, like he moves it too near his face in order to see your face clearly. You watch him carefully with a small smile. Seems like he’s inside the car already. You didn’t really expected to receive a call from him since he’s outside the country for a whole week because of his schedules and you heard today was his flight back home.

“Hello beautiful. Damn you look pretty even at night, huh?” he said that made you blush and roll your eyes at him.

He chuckled and admire you even more. You might think he’s teasing you but the truth is, he’s being sincere about it. You don’t know what you did to him ever since you entered his life. It’s not just his manager who noticed, a lot of people around him had realized he’s been doing so well lately. His music were full of life and joy lately, something that makes his fan think that he’s really in love with you.

“How’s flight?” you asked.

He smiled, “Tiring.” his answer was short so you figured he’s really tired. You started to feel bad for him since he’s probably very exhausted. “Then rest, Hee. You did so well.”

“I am resting.” then he stared at you from his phone screen.

You were silent after he said that. You are indeed falling for him even more and having him flirting with you from time to time for four months straight were just not helping at all.

“Can you come out for a while? I’m near your house already.”

You looked surprised at what you just heard, “What?”

“I want to see you.” he said and licked his lips nervously. “Please.”

Your heart skipped by the thought of finally seeing him after a while. You nodded and made sure you’re warm enough to meet with him.

When you saw him, you couldn’t stop yourself from caging him into a tight embrace as you felt him place a kiss at the crown of your head before muttering a lot of i miss yous.

After he pull away, he stared at your face for a while. None of you talked and minutes after, he decided to break it. “I told you we will talk about us once I come back, right?”

You gulped and nodded your head at him. That’s why you’ve been overthinking lately. Before he left to go out of the country, he told you that once he came back, you two will talk about something.

“Y/n, I love you.”

Your eyes grew big and started to heat up. He cupped your face and lean closer making your forehead touch each other. “I love you. Please be my girlfriend.”

You were not responding so he kind of feel scared that you don’t feel the same way and now you’ll be awkward around him. His heart aches at the thought of it. He was about to move away but you held his hand, “I love you too and yes, Hee.”

He bit his lower lip, stopping a smile to grow across his face. You both stared at each other lovingly before he leaned in to give you a very passionate kiss and claim you his. That’s when your happy relationship with Lee Heeseung started.

Your relationship was kept hidden for a while. It was your decision since you don’t want fans to react negatively. But after a while, your relationship was revealed after someone saw you secretly dating with each other.

As expected, mixed reactions from everyone. A lot of fans were sad that he got into a relationship but some were happy about it. They said they kind of expected it after watching the vlog and when Heeseung’s songs started to sound so in love.

Soon, you two grow deeply in love. You share happy moments together, cry and comforted each other during hard times, take care of each other, fight with each other and love each other. You two just genuinely love one another and couldn’t even imagine being separated.

Weeks and months passed by like a blink of an eye. And now, it’s almost your one year anniversary. You are so happy and excited about your plans for your celebration. Heeseung’s pretty busy with his upcoming comeback so you’re letting him while you take care of your plans.

“Hello, y/n? I already found a perfect place for your plan!” you smiled widely after hearing what your bestfriend said from the other line.

You are currently at your car when she called, luckily it was a red light. You thanked and informed her that you’re already on your way to meet her. You bid goodbyes and when the green light flashes, you smiled and drive.

You stopped your car aggressively when a car suddenly overtake and your heart was seriously racing after. You can hear honks and even before you can react, your car was hit by a truck that was heading towards your direction. You didn’t know what happened next but as your car turned and tumble over the wide road, your mind went blank and suddenly your whole life flashes over your eyes. The last thing you saw was Heeseung’s loving eyes and smile before you lose your consciousness.

“I’m sorry to inform you but we did everyhing we could. Right now, she’s on comma and there’s only a little percentage for the patient to wake up.”

Heeseung couldn’t process anything. His eyes were full of tears and his heart was aching so much because of what happened. He didn’t even know how he managed to arrive here safely. The moment your Mom told him what happened, he left his work and stormed his way here.

He feel like he went insane at the sight of you full of blood while the doctors crowded around you, trying to bring you back to life. After hours of waiting, the doctor went out to tell him this.

“Hi love.” a tear left his eyes as he reached over your hand. He tried to put a smile but the tears over his eyes completely shadows it down.

“Please, don’t do this.” he started and sniffed, trying to compose himself. He was trying so hard to refrain from breaking down a while ago in front of a lot of people but now that he’s alone with you, he couldn’t stop it anymore.

“Tell me this is just a nightmare. Please wake me up from this.” he took your hand close to his face as he cry hardly, chest tightening.

“Please. I will wait for you. Just...” he sniffed, “Come back to me.”

Heeseung’s life started to fall down but he was trying his best to continue because he also know you wouldn’t be so happy if he let his life messed up once you come back.

Even if a lot of people kept telling him that it was already impossible, he still kept hanging on you. He just loves you so much.

His songs started to speak for his pain. It started to feel more sad and sad as time passes by.

“Heeseung, you should go now.” his manager said while looking at him worriedly.

He’s about to perform his new song. It’s been four months ever since you got into a comma. Heeseung may be alive but he seemed so lifeless. His fans were starting to worry for him.

He went in front of the crowd, holding his mic over one of his hand. As the song started to play, Heeseung’s eyes started to water as well.

(song: hold on by chord overstreet)

“Loving and fighting, accusing, denying. I can't imagine a world with you gone.” he closed his eyes and just by the first two lines, his tears started to stream down already.

Fans cried with him, feeling how sad and longing he is for you.

“Hold on, I still want you. Come back, I still need you. Let me take your hand, I'll make it right. I swear to love you all my life Hold on, I still need you.” his heart ache as a memory of you smiling and chuckling with him flashed back.

You looked so beautiful and happy. You both were so happy and contented, then why...? He can’t help but to ask why does this have to happen to you.

“They took you away on a table. I pace back and forth as you lay still. They pull you in to feel your heartbeat. Can you hear me screaming? Please don't leave me.”

His chest tightened when he remembered how you were laying on that hospital bed full of blood while he walks back and forth worried for you. He wanted so bad to forget about that memory but he just can’t. It was the day where his nightmare started, his sleepless nights and loneliness.

“I don't wanna let go. I know I'm not that strong. I just wanna hear you saying, ‘Baby, let's go home’. Let's go home. Yeah, I just wanna take you home.” he uttered the lyrics similar to his usual prayers.

“Hold on, I still want you. Come back, I still need you.”

“Heeseung,” his eyes darted at your parents. They looked at him with pity on their eyes.

“I know you love our daughter and we do too, son.” your father started. They sighed as they can’t find any life over his tired eyes. “I know you don’t want to see her go and still hoping that she will woke up but seeing her at this state is just making us struggle even more.” he continued.

He knew where this conversation was going. They’ve been talking to him about this for weeks already. He was just really stubborn but lately, he realized maybe they’re right. Maybe you’re already tired and needs to rest already.

“We’ve already decided. Friday, son. We have until friday to be with her.” your Mother said and held unto his hand.

Friday? That’s two days away from today.

Heeseung clenched his jaw as his eyes doesn’t produce any tears anymore. He felt numb already. Tired and lifeless. Without you, he felt so empty.

The next day, Heeseung was looking after you like always.

“I’ll be back later, love. I’ll just go somewhere, okay? I miss you so much and I love you.” he talked to you as he stared at you full of love. Nothing changed at the way he looked at you. It’s still you for him, only you.

You didn’t responded as always. It was like that for 8 months already. People around him are telling him continuously that he needs to let go already. At this point, he was just tiring you but he’s just so stubborn. His love for you are just too strong and he can’t just let go of you.

Heeseung drove his way back to your shared apartment and quickly prepared something. His eyes darted at your pictures together and a small smile appeared over his face.

“I miss you so bad it’s killing me.” he shut his eyes and started to play the last song he wrote. He set the time of when it should be uploaded together with a letter of message he prepared long ago.

(song: somewhere only we know by keane)

“I walked across an empty land. I knew the pathway like the back of my hand.” he can hear his voice from the background as he roamed over your shared bedroom.

He didn’t throw or get rid of any of your things. Everything was perfectly kept here. Your clothes, your suppost gift for him for you anniversary. It was still wrapped because he didn’t want to open it without you.

“And if you have a minute, why don't we go. Talk about it somewhere only we know?” he can still hear the music playing as he reminisce things with you.

“This could be the end of everything. So, why don't we go somewhere only we know? Somewhere only we know. Somewhere only we know.”

And as his voice faded, a smile appeared over his face. He shut his eyes and hugged your pillow, “I love you, y/n.”

Today was the day. Your parents were inside your hospital room trying to spend the remaining time with you. They were just waiting for Heeseung to arrive so your Father decided to open the tv. The first thing to greet them was a shocking news.

Heeseung’s face was plastered over it. Your Father dropped the remote as they both listen to the news, with a fresh heartbreak.

“Lee Heeseung, the famous soloist found dead this morning inside his apartment by his manager. It said that the young star committed suicide and uploaded a song together with a letter.” your Mother was unable to speak while staring blankly at the television.

“The letter contains, ‘First, I want to thank everyone who supported me from the start, you guys means a lot to me. I am very sorry if I can’t continue anymore. I just don’t know how to live anymore. I feel so empty, lifeless. I know I need to do this. Mom, I’m sorry. Please don’t blame yourself. I love you. I love all of you. Thank you so much.’ Right now the investigation...”

And as the voice of the reporter faded behind, your mother turned her head at your direction with a shock on her face. She waited and couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

She quickly pressed the button near your bed as she felt your fingers twitched once again, “She’s awake! My daughter is awake!” she shouted as she cries, seeing you slowly opening your eyes.

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