#he was crying because the memories came flooding

[ofumofu]

comm from twt

Satoru dreaming about Suguru in the prison realm

[thebestsetter]

"If I was a color, I think I'd be yellow"

"Why?"

"Non-important. I just feel it"

He has never seen yellow the same way again. It was everywhere. He looked for it everywhere. And everytime, without fail, he remembered you. A pretty sunflower. Your blinding smile. A little minion figure he saw on the mall. You crying after watching the latest "Despicable Me" movie (and him laughing at your cute stupid crying face). A silly Winnie the Pooh keychain on a crying child's backpack. You talking to the said sad kid you both saw on the street and trying to cheer them up, playing with them and making sure they were smiling, their worries melting away in the speed of light (you'd make such a great mother, he thinks, making his face grow bright red right after). The sun in all of it's glory. You. You. You. You.

You were like a plague infecting his brain and soul. He couldn't focus on anything anymore because you were always running through his head, the sound of your laugh playing inside his mind 24/7 and driving him half insane. He couldn't take it anymore. He had to ask you why you said to him you were yellow. How did you know? What made you so sure of it? Why you had put him under this spell in which everytime he catches just the smallest and quickest glimpse of yellow, the image of you came flooding his mind and senses? Did you even think about him the same amount of times he thought about you? He didn't know. He couldn't know unless he asked you. And it was not fair. Not fair at all.

"Remember that day you told me you were yellow?"

"Yeah" you said, stopping mid-sip of your milkshake and looking at him with your beautiful a confused face "Yeah, I do. Why?"

"You never gave me an answer to the question I asked you that day" he ignored how the first sentence you said made his heart fluster and his stomach go silly.

"Which question?" How humilliating. He's gonna have to swallow his pride and repeat it. Utterly ridiculous.

"Why?" He couldn't care less about how hurt his ego was right now "Actually, how. How did you know you're yellow?"

"Easy. It's 'cause yellow and purple are opposites, so they look good when put together"

"What?"

"Yellow and purple are on opposite sides of the color wheel, silly! So they're complementary colors and go well together"

"I know that. But what does purple have to do with you being yellow?"

"You remind me of purple"

And suddenly, he realized yellow has never been alone. Next to the beautiful sunflower, there's a bellflower, that looks gloom when compared to the yellow plant, but basks in the joy it seems to bring nonetheless. Just like you are the one to bring joy to his life. Beside the minion figure, there's a figure of those bad purple minions, and while one is considered pretty, funny and nice, the other one is scary, angry and people tend to avoid them. It reminds him of you two: extroverted and kind you and introverted and rude him. Perfect opposites. Perfect together. He hadn't noticed before, but the child's backpack was purple, and this memory was followed by the the sound of the laughs you and the little fella shared. Kids should always be happy, smiling, harmless and having fun. Comfortable. Safe. In that way, you make him feel like a little kid. Your warm embrace, so protective and oh so motherly. He feels relaxed around you. Overjoyed. And even though he doesn't smile a lot, you always seem to make him want to crack a real, big grin. It must be a superpower of yours. Lastly, the sun, always followed by the moon. Even though they don't "meet" often, when they do, they create one of the prettiest phenomena known to humanity: an eclipse. They're always apart, but when they're together, it's so beautiful that the whole world stops to see.

"That's cringy. And kinda stupid."

"No it's not! We're a perfect duo! Just admit it!!"

"'Course we are"

"What did you say? I didn't quite hear you!!"

"I'm not saying it again."

So don't act surprised when your wedding is full of beautiful sunflowers and bellflowers. You should see it coming. They look good together right? Just like you two.

RIN ITOSHI, Kunigami Rensuke, Nagi Seishiro, MICHAEL KAISER, Barou Shohei, SAE ITOSHI, TODOROKI SHOTO, SHINSOU HITOSHI, BAKUGOU KATSUKI, USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI, KAGEYAMA TOBIO, TSUKISHIMA KEI (his name's kanji meaning moon is just so-- perfect fot this fic) , Osamu Miya, MEGUMI FUSHIGURO + any character you think fits this!!

Curiosity!!!: Bellflowers mean "everlasting love and commitment" in flower language, while sunflowers mean steadfast love!!

Masterlist

Wrote this in the middle of my portuguese class. I hate it. I'm in love with him

[itsvelyria]

"the moment the f1 boys realised you were the one"

Charles Leclerc

being able to cry around you: charles has a bad habit of bottling everything up. it was three months into your relationship when he had a particularly bad race, a stroke of bad luck. he was met with pats on his back and mutters that he would do better. numbness flooding his veins, they did nothing to ease the anxiety in his chest. he met your eyes across the room and watched as you stepped closer. with extended arms, you'd told him to let it out. never once has anyone ever told him that before, and so he had instantly broken down, exhausted from having to hold it all together. there was nothing needed but your presence. he sobs messily into your shoulder and the next morning, he had wished that he'll always have you around.

Carlos Sainz

when he realised you knew him better than he did himself: "how did you know?" were his first words, when he came home one night, only to come face-to-face with a pair of Airpods on the nightstand, addressed to him. he had sorely needed a new pair after losing them on the plane but hadn't had the time to purchase them. "because i know you" was your answer, beaming up at him from the side, where you were preparing dinner. you had missed the deep look in his eyes, rambling on; first his sister's wedding anniversary present in the coat closet, then the watch his father had wanted mended for a while now all fixed. and there it was: that was the moment where carlos finally understood the fluttering in his heart.

Danny Ricciardo

making the best out of life: when you had agreed to go out with danny solely because he made life feel that much brighter, but what you didn't know was that he felt the same way about you. you were always up for anything, the easygoing aura you carried with your being influencing him, especially when he had suggested sharing the singular umbrella left in the store — the unexpected downpour having caught you both off guard. nonetheless, you huddled under the umbrella, both your shoulders getting soaked the second you left the safety of the grocery store shelter. eyes meeting across the umbrella handle, you both break out into chuckles at your plain misfortune. that's when he realised — there was no one else he wanted to be stuck in a bad situation with.

George Russell

inside jokes: it was a small thing, minuscule even, the earliest memory of the joke being one of your first few dates, before you were even official. it was just a simple coincidence that the situation you were called for it. in the group dinner with your mutual friends, george's eyes had shot to yours, searching for the only being who could possibly understand him. and in that flash of a moment when his blue gaze met yours, your bodies had naturally leaned towards their other halves, giggles muffled into your hands. if your friends were surprised at the sudden laughter, he doesnt even notice, too preoccupied with how gorgeous you looked in the candlelight and how fast his heartbeat has gotten.

Lando Norris

shared comfortable silence: your boyfriend loved people, befriending strangers and great conversations. it all came easy to him, possibly due to growing up a middle child, he mirrored a little ray of sunshine. but as much as he adored socialising, lando found that he equally enjoyed quiet time with you, especially on lounge chairs by the beach while you flipped through your book, absolutely taken by the words. lando admired the expression fluttering across your features with each passing page. something strange settled in his tummy as he continued staring, something he could only allude to how peace might feel like. perhaps this is how life was meant to be lived, he thought.

Lewis Hamilton

sharing tattoo meanings: lewis has had a lot of art done on his body over the years and he's proud of all of them; memories and meanings forever part of him. with the orange glow of your nightlight at 3am, he watched as you traced the patterns on his skin, telling you stories and what each of them meant. you had soaked up the words, mesmerised by the deep lull of his voice as he opened up his heart to you. never has anyone been so interested in him as a person, all they wanted to know was his career and business and he appreciated it. to you, he was just a man — someone you wanted to know more about.

Max Verstappen

his pets greeting you: as the provider for his cats, he expected a touch more loyalty from the feline beings. still he remained seated, fixated on how jimmy and sassy nuzzled at your calves, the warmth of their tiny bodies against his legs previously lost. the silence was broken by the sound of grocery bags tossed on the kitchen counter as you stooped down to scratch their fuzzy chins. a light purr emanated from sassy while jimmy rolled over, also meowing in a bid for attention. his heart strangely light, he watched you indulge them like the spoiled brats they were. was it because of how much love was within you or the care you held for the things he held dear? either way, max couldn't tamp down the urge to cross the room and wrap you in his arms, much like you did with his pets now, the three little words in the back of his throat.

[genshin-obsessed]

Could I request Diluc, Kaeya, and Zhongli trying their hardest -and failing- not to cry after their wife, due to being tired and frustrated during an argument, wonders if they should get divorced because she thinks she's tying them down?

Ooh, ok, I need to sleep BUT the chance to write angst? sleep can wait! I wasn't entirely sure how to end it so I just left it like this. I'm sure this could be much, much longer but I didn't wanna make it too long, yanno? meant as a fem!reader but I don't mentions pronouns, just the term 'wife'.

▻ Kaeya

He didn't really know when the argument started. He didn't know what it was about anymore either. It was one of those arguments where the points end up getting lost and you're just yelling at one another about something completely unrelated. Honestly, you two were basically screaming at one another. But then he heard that one, awful sentence he never wanted to hear in his life.

"Why don't we just get a divorce and I won't be ruining your life anymore!?" Suddenly, the room's so eerily quiet that you finally realized what you said. Your gaze held Kaeya's and you watched as his usual cocky exterior just melt and tears fill his beautiful eyes. He slapped the back of his hand against his lips to stop but he couldn't. Your words shook him to his core and every thought in his mind was wiped away.

At some point, he didn't even register you trying to calm him down as he fell to his knees, tears flooding down his face. He didn't even register as he wrapped his arms around you in a near death grip, begging for you to stay.

He loved you, adored you, cherished you, worshipped you basically. So... wherever did you get this idea that you were tying him down? That you were ruining his life? Just where did he end up going wrong for you to have such awful thoughts?

▻ Diluc

Often talking to Diluc was something that was a little touch and go. He didn't talk much and when he did, he usually only talked enough to get the point across and that was it. Even during arguments, Diluc only spoke when he felt it was necessary. To avoid pointless yelling matches, he kept quiet until you were done.

But tonight was... different. Maybe it was a hard day for him, maybe it was something you said, maybe it was that he had a frustrating spat with Kaeya, or maybe that he was dealing with issues at the tavern... but tonight, Diluc was just as angry as you. You two were yelling so much that even the maids heard you outside of the manor. There was no end in sight.

"Then leave, Diluc! Leave me and you can be happy doing whatever you want! I won't be here to tie you down anymore and you can be a free fucking bird!" Diluc opened his mouth to retaliate but nothing came out. It was like the world stopped moving for a second. This uncomfortable pit grew in his stomach and he just knew it was bad. You thought you were tying him down? Never once did such an atrocious thought ever cross his mind. Never during an argument, never during a bad day, not once in his life.

So... why did you? Diluc didn't realize just how much he hated the silence until that moment. He hated it so much, that the tears he attempted to bury just burst out in a loud cry. Anything to stop that deafening silence.

▻ Zhongli

Zhongli was by far, the worst person to argue with. Why? He just sat there silently until you were done. Zhongli didn't argue, no. He waited, listened, then just explained his side. If it didn't work, he'd step away. But even an archon such as himself had limits. Your arguments never turned into screaming matches, at least not on his end, but sometimes they dragged on.

Today was just one such day. Even with his near impeccable memory, the man couldn't recall what happened to lead you two here. You were so upset and angry and no matter what he did, he made it worse. Truth be told, he was angry and frustrated too. It was like neither of you were listening to each other anymore.

"Well, if it's all pointless then why don't we just quit now?! Let's just get a divorce and you can go on happily without a wife to just drag you down!" That's when everything just stopped. Zhongli slowly looked away as he registered the words, feeling his chest begin to constrict.

Why... did you say that? Why would you think that? Was that his fault? You figure began to blur and he fell to his knees, desperately grabbing the dining table for support. You were at his side and tried to calm him down, desperately trying to wipe his tears but anything you said after just... didn't touch him. The awful reality of his life had his heart in a death grip and he could only listen if he got away from it.

[livlaughloveluke]

ᡣ𐭩 𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗳𝘁 𝗽.𝟭

child of dionysus x luke castellan 🍷

IN WHICH… the man you hate just can’t seem to leave you alone

warning! this fic contains- swearing // alcohol mentions // shitty parents // use of y/n // angst // daddy issues! // spoilers to tlt // probably not book accurate // implied sex!! // no actual smut, but definitely heavy illusions to sex (both characters are 18) // loss of virginity // drugs (medicinal) // blood // reader wears a swimsuit?? // reader gender isn’t mentioned i think // mentions of death/drowning // ends on an cliffhanger!!!

[a/n]-we’re just going to say tlt takes place in 2005, so luke and will have been born in 1986. also, incase you didn’t know, Hera doesn’t have any demigods, so her cabin is empty :)

part two is in progress, just wanted to put something out until then. also kinda ends on an odd note because it wasn’t intended to be multiple parts

🎧- night shift by lucy dacus

6.6k words (oopsies)

You hated Luke Castellan above all else.

Coming from you, that was a pretty bold statement, considering that you had a fiery hatred for plenty of things. Whether it be people who smacked their gum too loudly or ignorant gods who brushed off their children with no remorse, everything seemed to unwillingly ignite a spark in you. However, someone in particular really seemed to piss you off.

The mere sight of his stupid curls and even stupider scar hadn’t always awakened such a burning rage in you; in fact, he used to do the opposite. He was fourteen when you first met him.

April 13th, 2000

Luke had been placed into the chaos of Cabin 11, the other campers unfazed by a new demigod living with them as they carelessly bumped into his shoulder while playing tag. Old magazines scattered the wood floors, and dust covered the edges of his scrappy bed. With a sigh, he threw his bag onto the floor and escaped the overwhelming sensations provided by his siblings.

The light tour Chiron provided was seemingly useless as he mindlessly waltzed down to the lake, unsure of another quiet space to go to. He performed a quick glance around to ensure he was really alone, and then plopped down onto the rocky shore with a groan. Without his father and now Thalia, he wasn’t sure if he’d survive a night at this bullshit camp.

“You okay?” You emerged from the woods, staring at him with a concerned expression. He jumped slightly, startled by your presence since he literally just checked to see if he was alone. “Oh, uhm, yeah.”

“Wanna talk about it?” You asked, noticing the way his tone was so unconvincing while sitting down next to him and staring out at the view. It wasn’t typical of you to be so welcoming, but you had recently received dessert privileges back after getting them taken away for punching some Aphrodite girl, so a cheery mood was accompanied. He glared at you, slightly annoyed by the way you interrupted his moment of peace. But then again, you weren’t really bothering him, so he figured you could stay. You were also breathtaking, so how could he shoo you away?

“No.” Luke replied honestly after a moment of silence, a slight grimace decorating his features while thinking about his long past.

“Fair. I’m sorry about your friend.” You said, your voice filled with empathy rather than pity as you kept eye contact with the horizon despite the cooling wind that turned your eyes glossy and ruffled your neon orange shirt. “Thanks.” He muttered as the memories flooded his mind, to the point where he had to clench his teeth together so he wouldn’t cry.

“I’m Y/N. Child of Dionysus.” Turning around, you offered a friendly smile until you realized he had his head buried into the crook of his elbow and emitted gentle sniffles. “Oh shit, I’m sorry. Did I say something? I’m trying to work on it, I swear-“

“Does it ever get easier?” He interrupted, although his request came out muffled as he whispered into his skin.

“Well… sorta.”

“Sorta?”

“You get used to the whole Greek God thing, I guess.” You reply, avoiding the question he was clearly implying about his father being present. It wasn’t one you typically liked to talk about, along with most of the other campers with daddy issues. The truth was, you hated the gods for abandoning their children, but speaking out about that would have some brutal consequences. Let’s just say you would lose more than just dessert privileges for a week.

“I’m heading down to the bonfire; you should join.” You said after another long pause of silence, standing up and dusting the particles of sand that had collected on the bottom of your denim shorts.

“Okay.” He stood up, wiping his eyes, and followed you as you hiked through the trees.

“So, why were you stalking me again?” Luke spoke up with a sarcastic tone, stepping over the large tree trunks that had fallen down onto the forest floor.

“Woah, I was not stalking you, newbie.”

“Sure looked like it when you magically appeared out of the woods.”

“Well, I wasn’t, okay? Mind your business.” You snapped, the caring facade slipping away as you stared at him harshly enough to pierce his heart.

“Jeez, sorry.” Luke looked down at his feet, feeling a little guilty for being too pushy with practically a stranger. After seeing his suddenly reserved body language, you stopped the hike and faced him.

“Don’t apologize.”

“What?” His gaze averted back up to meet your cold expression.

“Don’t apologize. I was being a bitch. Stand up for yourself.”

“Uhh..” Luke was now extremely confused, looking around as if this was some sort of prank show with the way you switched up so fast.

“Let’s try again. I’m gonna say the sane thing, and you’re going to stand up for yourself. Kay?”

“I don’t-“ He started, but was quickly interrupted by you.

“Well, I wasn’t, okay? Mind your business.” You repeated from earlier, making your voice sound even ruder as you dramatically exclaimed.

“N-no? Is that what I’m supposed to say?” He questioned, still nervously glancing around and searching for some sort of explanation or another person hiding in the undergrowth to reveal it was a silly joke. You raised your eyebrows in disbelief at his terrible performance, blinking slowly as you scoffed.

“Oh gods. It’s not what you say; it’s how you say it. Be more confident.” Stepping back, you repeated the sentence again. “Well, I wasn’t, okay? Mind your business.”

“No.” Luke said, this time with more pride, although he kept staring at you for a sign of approval. “Good!” You supportively with a grin, turning to continue your walk. And after a sassy eye roll, Luke followed behind.

“Just trying to protect you from the Ares kids. They can be assholes.” You happily explained, a little too cheery for someone who just snapped at him.

“Yeah, okay.”

Luke knew he should be bothered by your interesting behavior. I mean, most would, but deep down, he liked how you were empathetic in such a strange way. It made him feel human, instead of like a tourist attraction that people whispered sweet nothings to and stared at curiously.

“Don’t take anyone’s shit, and soon enough you’ll be swimming in kleos.” You stated, swaying with every step and providing plenty of hand gestures.

“Kleos?”

“Glory. Everyone here is basically fighting to be respected.”

“Oh. Shouldn’t everyone just be respectful?” He obliviously asked, ducking under a low, hanging branch.

“They should, but they aren’t. But with glory, it makes you important. People sit up when you walk in the room; stay out of your way; things like that.”

“Wait, so I just have to stand up for myself, and suddenly I’m all important?”

“Sometimes. Usually, though, you have to major in some skill. Archery, sword fighting, healing, etc. You been claimed yet?”

“Yeah, Hermes.”

“Oh.” You replied, dissatisfaction noticeable.

“Oh??” Luke questioned, offended and sounding a little more rude than he intended.

“It’s not really a bad thing. Just different demigods are usually good at certain stuff. With Hermes, they typically tend to be good liars.”

“What’s your talent?” Luke asked, causing you to go quiet for a minute while thinking.

“Well, I’m really good at poker. That’s about it.”

“You’re a good talker, too.” He said, causing you to shoot him a threatening glare.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, you give decent advice, and you’re pretty welcoming. That’s a plus.” He instantly backtracked.

“Half of the camp would disagree with you on that. Turns out hostility doesn’t get you the best reputation.”

“You’re hostile?” Sure, you may have had a little anger management problem, but hostile? You seemed sweet enough to Luke, at least.

“I don’t talk to all the newbies like this.”

“Then why me?” Luke, from his understanding, wasn’t special. He didn’t stick out. He wasn’t super hot, smart, or funny. He was just average, in his opinion.

“Dunno. Why not?” You said, which wasn’t entirely true. He just seemed different, like he was hiding more beneath the surface. Similar to a puzzle that you needed to solve, except if you didn’t, you’d be burdened with a painful itch of curiosity for the rest of eternity.

“Hm, Fair. But what should I try to achieve kleos?”

“Don’t go for archery or healing; the Apollo kids will smoke you. Maybe sword fighting? I could show you the basics sometime.”

“Sword fighting it is.”

May 21st, 2001

"Where were you during arts and crafts?" You asked while sitting down next to Luke at lunch, clearly irritated by his absence during this morning's activities.

"I was-" He tried to explain, but you had already taken his hands and begun to inspect them, your touch shutting him up. You huffed in annoyance while gently tracing over his callouses and cuts.

"You were training again."

"I just needed more practice. I didn't mean to-" He started, feeling remorse for not showing up, but you were there to quickly interrupt him.

"Save it. I have bandages back at my cabin; let's go. It's the least you can do for leaving me with your siblings all morning." You slammed your hands on the table, standing up and practically dragging Luke to follow you (he would have followed even if you didn't force him).

Once a long distance away from the pavilion, you brought up a topic he wasn't the most comfortable with. "Training to prove yourself?" He swallowed back his anger, not wanting to lash out at you, despite the fact that you could obviously take it.

"Maybe I am. Who cares?"

"I do. Stop caring about the gods so much."

"Easy for you to say. Your father's here." Luke mumbled mockingly under his breath, barely above a whisper, but you heard.

"I'm not sure he even knows my name. He's a drunk dumbass, not exactly great dad material." This shut him up, his gaze traveling to the dirt floor until you reached Cabin 12. Silence and tension filled the air as you opened your backpack, scouring for the gauze and anticipatant. Gripping his wrist with a rage-filled force, you carefully rubbed the Neosporin over the red cuts and wrapped his palms with the stretchy material gifted by an Apollo friend.

"Don't say I don't care about you. You know I do." You whispered, breaking the quiet atmosphere and filling it with fiery love.

"But he doesn't."

"So?"

"He's my father. He should."

"You should stop focusing on what you don't have. Working yourself to the bone won't improve your relationship."

He didn't respond, not having an argument or a sassy comment whipped up, because you were right. He manufactured this mindset that if he was good enough, if he had glory, Hermes would finally notice him and would finally love him. However, there was always a little voice in the back of his head that made him doubt all of his hopes for a family. You just amplified that voice like a microphone.

"And you left me alone with your brothers. Bleh." You smiled, trying to lighten the mood a little while tying off the first bandage.

"C'mon, they aren't that bad."

"You should have heard how they were talking about Julia from Aphrodite Cabin."

"Ew." He laughed, looking at you while you concentrated on wrapping his last hand. You looked so stunning like this, with your pearly teeth peeking between the skin of your lips and your eyes squinting while focusing on making sure it was perfect. He was truly a dumbass, focusing on the gods while you were right in front of him. "Done." You said while tucking in the end of the gauze. He hinged his hand open and shut a few times to make sure it was sturdy, and of course it was.

"Thank you." Luke praised you, not just for patching him up, but for caring.

"Anytime. Hey, I made you something during arts and crafts." You dug through your plastic junk drawer, clinking around all the junk in search of something specific.

"Hm?"

You snatched up a small beaded necklace from the drawer before extending your hand and showing it to him. It was crumpled up, the flimsy string intertwined with itself and the beads out of order, so he picked the jewelry up and awed at the handmade piece. It was wooden beads painted in deep burgundy paint with your first name spelled out in Greek letters, strung on black elastic.

"It's gorgeous." Was all he could manage to utter out, still starstruck by the thoughtfulness of your gift.

"Thanks. We should probably get back to lunch before it's over." You replied, and for the first time in Luke's year of knowing you, you look flustered. You nervously glanced down at the laces to your shoes and fiddled with your fingers, even swaying from the tips of your toes to the back of your heels.

"Yeah, yeah." He agreed, slipping the necklace on and walking out with you behind him. For the rest of the day, he was all smiles and giggles, with others unsure of why he was in such a good mood. Until the inky night sky swallowed the bright blue light, and nightmares came with it. 

Most demigods were prone to the occasional bad dream, but Luke was a frequent victim of Hypnos’ curse. Every other night was filled with images of losing what he loved, but he was too embarrassed to talk to someone about it, so he suffered silently.

That night, the dreams were particularly horrific, to the point where he awoke covered in sweat and probably some tears, too. His mind debated whether or not sneaking out and waking you up was a bad idea, but the thought of staying awake alone in his bed another minute scared him more than any profanity you could throw at him for interrupting your “beauty sleep.”

Tiptoeing silently outside the hot cabin, his heart pounded as he traveled to your room next door. He was still in flannel pajama pants and an old tee shirt with some vintage band plastered on it, the chilling wind erupting goosebumps. 

Luckily, your bed was right next to a window, which he promptly (and quietly) tapped on to wake you up. A few groans and twists later, you slid open the glass and gawked at him.

“Luke, what the fuck are you doing?” You whisper-yelled, praying to the gods none of your siblings woke up and started bitching.

“I had a nightmare.”

“You woke me up at two in the morning because you had a nightmare?” 

“Please, I just need someone to talk to.” Hearing the desperation and seriousness in his voice, you couldn’t possibly reject him, no matter how tired you were.

“I’ll be out in a second.” 

Sliding the window shut, you slipped on some sandals and exited to see Luke, who was standing on the porch. 

Walking down the steps with him tracking behind, you waited until you were isolated by the lake to talk. “Everything okay?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been having really bad nightmares lately, and I know that sounds stupid, but I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“Have you tried talking to the Apollo kids? It’s not rare for them to deal with insomnia.”

“Well, no. It’s humiliating. It’s taken me a year to talk to you about it, and you’re my best friend.” Luke skimmed past the term ‘best friend’, unsure if you felt the same. It was stupid; you were definitely his best friend, but what if he wasn’t yours? 

“First of all, it’s not. But I don’t mind talking to them. I can say I’m having nightmares, and they’ll probably give me melatonin, and then I can give it to you.”

“You’d do that? Smuggle drugs for me?” He spoke softly, the moonlight enchanting his features. 

“Course. You’re my best friend.”

December 27th, 2002

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You yelled at Luke in the empty Hera Cabin, angrier than ever. Word had spread to you like wildfire of a quest Luke had accepted, despite the fact it was a suicide mission.

“Listen-“

“No! You told me you didn’t care about the god’s approval anymore. And now you’re going on some bullshit quest?! You’re a fucking dumbass.”

“I just need one chance to prove myself to him.” He pleaded, begging for you to understand and forgive him, even though he knew you weren’t the “forgive and forget” type. Honestly, he was about 80% sure you were still holding a grudge against him for stealing the dessert off your plate three months ago.

“Why aren’t you happy where you are? You’re the best swordsman at camp in three hundred years; half the girls here are in love with you, and everyone practically worships the ground you walk on!”

“I don’t care about them.”

“Do you not care about me, either?” You spoke softly, which was a dramatic shift from the heated yelling a few seconds ago.

“What? Of course-“ Luke cared about you more than anything— more than himself or any silly god. It wasn’t very far-fetched to assume that he even loved you, although his anxious self would never admit anything of the sort. But this quest was a dream of his, and it wasn’t possible for him to just give it up.

“Whatever. I’m done with your bullshit.” You cut him off and stormed out, leaving him to watch you walk away with an aching pain in his heart. That wound was left open as he set out for his journey that night, along with two other campers who were slightly underqualified.

The quest went to shit the minute they left camp’s solace, with monsters attacking from every direction. However, he and his companions were able to make it to the guarded tree with only a few minor injuries.

Until Luke reached for the golden apple and was sliced by the dragon who protected the fruit. Blood gushed out of the cut that decorated his eye as he stumbled away. The loss of blood and shock caught up to him, and eventually he lay in the arms of his friends, fading in and out of consciousness.

The idea that your life flashes before your eyes when you're near death is indeed true. Memories of previous years flooded his brain, from his childhood to his teen years (which mainly consisted of you). As the light faded away, all he could think of was how he never admitted his love to you and how your last interaction with him was an argument.

The next time he awoke, he was in the camp infirmary, dazed as he slowly blinked the sleep away from his eyes. The teenage nurses yelled at him as he slowly stood up and deliriously walked outside, but he couldn’t care less. He just wanted to see you and apologize. His near-death experience was a wake-up call, a sign that what he was feeling towards you wasn’t just friendly admiration.

Luckily for him, you were waiting for him outside, sitting on a wood bench as you anxiously bounced your leg. As he stumbled out the door, you immediately stood up and rushed towards his weak body. What caught him off guard was the way you hugged him instantly, wrapping your arms around his torso while burying your head in his chest. For the first time in days, you were able to breathe, inhaling his musky scent rapidly. The fight had taken a toll on you. You lied awake at every night scared out of your mind that he would die hating you.

“I’m so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things, I was just angry at you for leaving me, but-” You rammbled into the cloth of his shirt, the vibrations on his skin making his heart flutter.

“Don’t apologize.” He said with a loopy smile, making you laugh with relief while remembering the first time you met. His original plan of confessing his love to you the moment he woke up with a dramatic spiel was immediately thrown in the trash as he looked at you from above. The worries of ruining this magical friendship you had spent two years building overtook the joys of the possibility that a new relationship would blossom. So for now, he was comfortable being friends with you. Best friends.

The stares from others went unnoticed, Luke too enchanted by your warming touch to see the way others gawked at him from afar, like he was a monster. Not until the next day, when he wasn’t drugged, at least.

When he looked in the crowded bathroom mirror the next morning after plenty of rest, it almost scared him. His gash was a beaming red with dried maroon blood on the edges and a violet hue discoloring the nearby skin. Swallowing nervously, he did his best to clean it up with warm water before rushing to the picnic tables for breakfast, where you sat munching on cereal.

“You’re the most brutally honest person I know. How bad is it? Like, can I even show my face anymore?” He blurted out, causing you to glance up with a slight panic. After a few seconds of consideration, you replied.

“It makes you look badass.”

“Are you sure?”

“Definitely. Go get something to eat and come back to talk to me.” Luke responded with a nod, heading off to grab a quick breakfast. With a tray of pancakes in his hand, he returned and sat down across from you.

“So?” You waited eagerly for some explanation of his trip.

“It went like shit. You’re right, I’m not good enough.”

“Woah, I never said that.”

“You implied it.”

“That’s not what I meant. I meant you shouldn’t rely on your successes or failures to determine your worth.”

“Same thing.” He retorted with a scowl, stuffing his mouth with food.

“Not even close. So, what’d you learn?”

“That I need to train harder.”

“Holy shit, you are a dumbass.” You said with a long blink and a theatrical sigh.

“Can we talk about something else?”

“Sure. How’s Annabeth?” Annabeth and you were always so different, but somehow that made you closer. She spent her hours strategizing and acting like an adult, and you spent yours playing games and wishing you were younger. Regardless, she was like a little sister to you.

“She’s… like usual.” Luke replied with a crinkle of his lips.

“Mm, so she’s still forcing herself to be an adult at nine?”

“Yeah, just about.”

“We should get her to play poker with us one night. Help loosen her up a little.”

“Not a chance.”

March 19th, 2003

You and Luke stood side by side, anxiously waiting for Capture the Flag to start, while Chiron yapped about the rules. You’d already heard the whole spiel of instructions multiple times, so naturally you grew bored, and your mind wandered off to the boy beside you.

He looked like a true warrior, with his pointy metal helmet that somehow sharpened his features. Over the past few summers, he had grown significantly, and the puff on his cheeks had thinned out. Needless to say, he wasn’t short of admirers.

You painfully watched as hundreds of girls fawned over him and even began to dread getting ready in the bathroom because of how many praises were thrown at him.

Luke sensed your annoyance from afar, although it wasn’t hard to notice by the way you scowled every time someone approached him with a new compliment. However, he thought you were just envious of the praise he received. In reality, you felt threatened, like someone would steal your spot in your best-friend-who-sometimes-flirt-with-each-other relationship with him. He would never let it happen though, even if you weren’t aware.

“Let the games begin!” Chiron yelled, snapping you out of your daydreaming session.

“You take the east side of the forest, I take the west, we meet up in the middle, right?” You wanted to confirm the Athena cabin’s strategy with him, to which he replied with a quick nod.

“Mhm. See you on the flip side.”

“See you on the flip side, Castellan.” You both turned to the different small groups that you were leading, setting out on foot to start your plan.

Annabeth and a few other geniuses had spent the past two weeks carefully crafting a flawless plan for today’s Capture the Flag game. You and Luke would attack, traveling into their side of the woods, while the rest would defend.

While you might not have been the best swordsman, you were a master of trickery and deception and decent at fist fighting. Plus, you had a solid team backing you up.

“So basically, we just need to fight some of the red team and then meet up with Luke and his group in the middle. Kay?” You instructed to your acquaintances, who diligently followed behind you as you hiked through the evergreen trees, until you saw a few of the other team lurking around. With a surprise attack, you were able to defeat them, with little of your squad lost in the process.

You kept on trekking through the dark depths of the forest before spotting some of the best members of the red team, specifically Sam from Ares cabin.

They were the biggest asshole around, and extremely cocky for someone who was the second-best sword fighter in camp. Plus, they were always trying to get in your pants, along with every other counselor who was old enough. To be frank, they were super hot, but you weren’t interested in anyone currently. Well, anyone who wasn’t Luke Castellan.

Knowing you wouldn’t win this battle, you shuffled to the bushes and silently watched while thinking of a good plan.

“Nice try. Up. Slowly.” Sam said unexpectedly, causing you to sigh with frustration and calmly stand up, along with your teammates.

“So, you can either give up now and save yourself the trouble, or we can do the whole fighting thing and eliminate you that way. Your choice.” They stated with a smile, only egging you on.

“What a little bundle of joy you are.”

“Hm, okay, fighting it is.” They sliced for your stomach, the metal of their blade clinking with the iron of your breastplate. You were stunned at first, but immediately charged back while his goons attacked your friends.

The sound of swords slicing and heavy grunts filled the woods, alerting Luke, who was a decent distance away. Most of his teammates had been eliminated, so now it was just him and one other member. He lightly jogged to the scene, not caring too much.

Meanwhile, your group was putting up a solid fight, but so were they. You clashed swords relentlessly with Sam, while your teammates suffered a bloody battle. In a mere minute, all of your team had surrendered, but so had all of Sam’s team.

With every second that passed, your efforts got messier and energy your got lower, and it was apparent this wasn’t going to be your victory. With one clean slice, Sam nicked your arm violently, and you let out a scream in response. Unbeknownst to you, Luke heard your pain and panicked, changing his pace from a careless jog to a speedy sprint. His partner yelled at him, confused, but Luke just kept going, despite his muscles that ached like fire.

You grew exhausted, now just weakly defending yourself from every attack. Seeing how unfocused you became, Sam took this opportunity to swipe your feet with his leg and send you tumbling to the ground, disarming you in the process.

Both panting heavily, they shakily brought the blade to your neck and stepped on your torso to prevent less squirming.

“You’d be a lot hotter if you weren’t such a bitch.” They said, and before you could come up with a witty reply, Luke had charged from behind. Slicing at Sam with adrenaline-fueled anger, he instantly knocked them down to the floor.

“Don’t ever talk to them like that again, or I’ll seriously fuck you up. Okay?”

“Okay, Jesus! What are you, their boyfriend or something?”

Luke wasn’t sure how to reply, so he didn’t. Was this too protective of him? No, he was just helping a friend. Right?

“Just say you surrender already.” He mustered up.

“Fine, I surrender.” Sam mumbled, and Luke took his sword away while they fled. Then, he turned to you, who was watching the whole thing from the floor.

“Holy shit, thank you.”

“Anytime, sweetheart. They hurt you?” He replied with a grin, helping you up with his right hand.

“Nothing bad.” You responded, twisting your arm to get a glance at the cut. He winced with empathy while grabbing your wrist so he could get a better glance.

“Ouch. Go to the infirmary. It’s bleeding a lot.”

“Whatever. Go get the flag, trooper.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice. With a sly salute, you both headed your separate ways. Luke had a pep in his step as he jogged to the bright flag, forgetting all about his partner, who was somewhere in the trees far behind him.

You headed to the nurse, getting it cleaned and patched up easily before setting off to the lake. Sitting on a pointy rock, you waited mindlessly for this stretched-out game to end. Technically you were still in, but your match with Sam was enough fighting for the day.

Luckily, you didn’t have to wait long, because Luke emerged from the forest a few minutes later carrying a gleaming red flag with pride.

Standing up, you cheered with excitement as you ran up to him, squealing like a little girl. He stopped in front of you and dug the pole into the rocky shore with a grin. Still in awe, all you could manage out was a toothy smile in reply.

“Congrats, Castellan.”

“Eh, it was no big deal.” He joked, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“Whatever. Bonfire tonight!!” You laughed and made sure to yell out the last sentence for all of your teammates, who whooped with glee.

When the sun drifted down the horizon that night, you and dozens of campers headed down to the shore, where a sparking fire raged. The flames danced as you sat around, scattered on different logs. You currently sat on the floor next to Luke while he sat on the wood, leaning your back against the dead tree and ever-so-slightly brushing up against his legs.

Everyone had noticed your change in attitude over the last few years. You seemed bubblier and more happy because, well, you were. Falling in love with someone who had a chance of reciprocating feelings was heaven. Every long stare from across the room and gentle touch made your skin crawl with adoration. Maybe you should tell him. But why ruin everything?

As the night stretched on and the violet sky dissipated into a jet black that was freckled with stars, you grew sleepier. And after the third yawn in only ten minutes, you decided it was time to hit the hay.

“Okay, I’m calling it quits. Night guys!” You stood up before turning to Luke.

“Goodnight, Luke.” You whispered in such a caring tone that he felt shivers down his spine. Speechless, he watched with hearts in his eyes as you walked away.

“At least try and be discreet.” One of his friends laughed as soon as your figure went unseen.

August 2nd, 2004

“Absolutely not. No way!” Annabeth yelled at you.

You, Luke, and her all sat on the floor of Cabin 12 playing Uno because apparently gambling “isn’t appropriate for an eleven-year-old.” The problem was that you liked to make up your own rules, while Annabeth strictly stuck to what was written in the instructions.

“Beth, everyone plays this way! Just take your six!”

“If your friends jumped off a cliff, would you?” She gave you her signature death stare.

“What are you, my mom? Luke, what’s your opinion?”

“Do not drag me into this.”

“I quit. I’m heading down to the lake, you guys wanna come?” You stated, slamming your mountain of red cards onto the floor and jumping up to search for a bathing suit in your dresser.

“I have archery training.” Annabeth said, grabbing her stuff and walking out.

“I’ll go.” Luke replied a little too eagerly.

“Okay. Meet me at the docks in ten?”

“Sure.” Using his bandaged palms to push off the wood floor, he left to go change.

Slipping into your black swimsuit, you threw a baggy shirt over it and skipped down to the shore, where Luke was waiting with his feet in the icy water.

“Hey.” You alerted him of your presence while sliding off your cover and tossing it down beside you. His breath hitched, and he couldn’t help but gawk at the slivers of your exposed skin. Nervously swallowing, he weakly replied. “H-hey.”

Ignoring the way he stuttered and stared, you jumped into the cool lake. The blue water engulfed you in a refreshing embrace, rolling off your skin as you emerged from the surface.

“I’ll race you to that buoy over there.” You pointed to the white float that bobbled up and down.

“Deal. Winner gets loser’s dessert for a week.”

“Deal.” You took off before he was even in the water, pushing off of the wood dock to accelerate forward.

“Cheater!” Luke yelled playfully before jumping in and following your path.

Eventually, he caught up and even reached the buoy first, grinning triumphantly as you paddled towards him.

“I hate you.” You mumbled, but the beaming smile plastered on your face told another story.

“Fine, you can keep your dessert privileges, but I still want bragging rights.” He offered, not caring a smidge about anything but making you happy.

“Gods, you’re such a good person.” You said, knowing you would have taken his food and flaunted on him for the next seven days.

“Race you back?”

“Fuck no. I’m tired.”

“I’ll carry you. The waters not too deep; you can sit on my shoulders while I walk.”

“You’ll drown.”

“I’m pretty ripped; I think I can manage carrying you one hundred yards.” He jokingly replied with a flex of his bicep, which was definitely appreciated by your wandering eyes.

“Sure. I’m not saving you if you do end up drowning, though.” You climbed onto his shoulders, and he gripped your calfs to help stabilize you and because he really just wanted an excuse to touch you.

“That’s a pretty badass way to die.” He said while trailing through the fresh liquid.

“To die while swimming through five-foot-deep waters?”

“Well, not when you phrase it like that.”

“How would you phrase it?”

“Glorious hero meets his fate at the lake with another counselor’s thighs wrapped around his head.”

You both froze with shock when he uttered his suggestive remark, even Luke not realizing his mistake until after. He felt his cheeks go hot and nervously tried to apologize for making you feel uncomfortable.

“Oh my gods, I swear I did not mean-“

You cut him off with a deep and angelic laugh, clearly not hurt by his poor choice of words.

“You’re a dumbass.” You choked out through heavy giggles, and he instantly relaxed upon realizing you didn’t think he was a complete pervert. Every laugh you released was like a weight off of his shoulders, and that was when he knew he could not shove his feelings down anymore.

Hours had passed, and you two ended up watching the sun fall by the lake while sharing a cherry red and white striped blanket. Not a word was whispered as you rested your head against his shoulder, his curls dripping onto your skin. He couldn’t help but smile as he felt your slow inhalation of the crisp air.

Once night arrived and the cicadas started chirping, it was finally time to break the comforting silence.

“I’m gonna go shower.” You said while slowly standing up and letting the towel drape off of your body.

“Me too.” Luke replied, getting up and placing the towel back on your shoulders so you wouldn’t have to brace the chilling breeze in a swimsuit. As you walked away, he couldn’t help but stare.

“Wait, I need to talk to you once you’re done. Meet me in the Hera Cabin after we’ve showered?” He called out after you, to which you nodded in response.

He needed to confess how he felt about you immediately, or his chest might actually explode. He needed to tell you about how his heart raced every time your touch lingered a second too long, how he ranted to Annabeth every night about the things you did that made him swoon, and how he was madly, head over heels, in love with you.

Once the musk of lake water had fully washed off, you headed to the infamous empty cabin, where Luke was waiting. His hair was still wet from the shower, causing his curls to separate, and he fidgeted with his fingertips while anxiously waiting for your arrival.

“You okay, Castellan?”

“No, I’m not, actually. I need to tell you something, like right now.” He stuttered out, his lip crunched up like he was in pain.

“You’re scaring me a little, but I’m all ears.”

“I love you.” Luke blurted out, the tension in the air increasing significantly with just three words.

“What?” It seemed as if the world had stopped, even the birds quieting down for a listen.

“I’m in love with you.” He repeated, like it was no big deal, like it was second nature.

“You love me?” You whispered out, almost like it was unheard for you to be loved.

“More than anything.”

You swallowed, thinking for a second while he awaited a response.

“I love you too.”

With the conformation of your words, he leaned in until the tips of his nose rubbed against yours. His lust-coated eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips, making it apparent what he wanted. Luke breathed in your fresh scent heavily while watching and waiting for a reaction—for you to pull away or do something.

Trailing a hand up into his hair, you delicately pushed his head until your lips met. His skin was honey-sweet as you gingerly kissed; it looked like something out of a romance movie. He forced himself to be a gentleman and pull apart after a few seconds, no matter how much he wanted to kiss you until his oxygen ran out.

Looking up into his eyes, you craved more. This built-up tension between you two was finally erupting, and it needed more than just a little kiss to be satisfied. So, you took charge and feverishly leaned in for more.

His hands cusped your cheek, carefully avoiding any boundaries you might have set up. That was until you snagged his bottom lip with your teeth, and he lost all self-control. The sweet kisses turned into a full-blown make-out session as he steadily snaked his hand down your torso and to the fat of your ass.

Only breaking for air when absolutely necessary, passion filled the atmosphere, along with hushed moans from the both of you. Luke warily trailed his hand upwards to your chest, and you could tell where this was heading. Panting, you removed your lips from his and spoke up.

“I’ve never.. I’m still…”

“Me too. Do you.. still want to?” He revealed, his heart racing while still daintily grazing your skin.

“Yes. Please.” You desperately nodded, like death was approaching if you didn’t continue. With that, he laid you down on the squeaky mattress of an unused bunk bed and hovered over.

“Gods, you look stunning.”

୨୧

part two in progress…

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MASTERLISTS 𓏲𝄢 REQUEST / TALK TO ME 𓏲𝄢 RULES

[kpislby]

𝙱ℯ𝓎ℴ𝓃𝒹 ᴛʜᴇ ʙʀᴀᴋᴇ 彡 lhs

𝚜ʏɴᴏᴘsɪs : after running away from your ex boyfriend who wasn’t faithful, you search for comfort through your best friend; lee heeseung.

sequel to : slipping away ໒ྀི sjy

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ : fem!reader // angst, fluff ( a little bit ) // warnings : mentions of cheating, cursing, fighting // ᴡᴄ.2829

you didn’t know where else to go. your feet moved on autopilot, dragging you through the empty streets that seemed to stretch on forever. the suitcase in your hand felt like dead weight, each step heavier than the last, as if it were filled with all the pain you’d just been through. the hurt from that picture, the one that tore apart everything you thought you knew, was still fresh, like a wound that wouldn’t heal. staying in that house wasn’t an option—not with those messed-up memories haunting every corner, making it hard to breathe. ....more under cut

as you stumbled towards heeseung’s place, your path took you past jake’s office building. you couldn’t help but look up at the tall glass windows, now just a cold, empty reflection of the morning light. how many times had he told you he was stuck there, working late? the excuses, the lies, all seemed so obvious now. your mind replayed the image of him with her, over and over, like a bad movie you couldn’t turn off. tears pricked your eyes and started spilling over, sliding down your cheeks as you thought about that co-worker, the one he told you not to worry about.

the more you walked, the more your thoughts spiraled, pulling you into a dark place. was she really that much prettier than you? had you somehow stopped being enough for him? what did she do that made him think it was okay to throw away everything you had? each question stabbed at you, like a knife twisting deeper into your already broken heart. you wiped your face, smearing the tears, but they kept coming, hot and salty, and the weight in your chest only grew heavier.

the streets were too quiet, like the world was holding its breath, waiting for you to break. and you were so close. but you kept walking, one foot in front of the other, because standing still hurt even more.

when you finally reached heeseung’s apartment, you stood there for a moment, frozen in place. the morning was quiet, almost too quiet, and the sound of your knuckles against the door was too loud, breaking the stillness. but you didn’t care. you couldn’t care. you needed him. you needed someone to hold you together when it felt like you were falling apart. someone to tell you that you weren’t crazy, that leaving was the right thing to do.

the door opened, and there he was—lee heeseung, your best friend, the only person who had always been there for you, even when jake started slipping away. his eyes widened when he saw you standing there, your face streaked with tears, your body trembling like a leaf in the wind. he didn’t say a word. he didn’t need to. he just pulled you into his arms, holding you tight against his chest. the second you felt his embrace, something inside you snapped, and all the tears, all the pain, came flooding out like a wave you couldn’t stop.

you clung to him, crying uncontrollably, your fingers gripping his shirt like it was the only thing keeping you from falling apart. he held you like that for what felt like forever, his hand gently rubbing your back, his heartbeat steady against your ear. it was the only sound that made any sense.

after a long time, he gently pulled back, his hands holding your face. his touch was so soft, so careful, like he was afraid you might break if he wasn’t. “what happened?” he whispered, his voice filled with concern. he tried to meet your eyes, but you couldn’t. you just closed them, letting the tears flow down your face, soaking his fingers. you couldn’t speak, couldn’t find the words to describe the mess inside you. all you could do was cry, letting everything you’d been holding in finally spill over, hoping that somehow, in heeseung’s arms, you might find the strength to keep going.

“i saw a picture,” you finally said, your voice trembling. “of him... and her. he was holding her, like he used to hold me. she was kissing him, and he... he looked happy.”

the last word came out like a sob, choking on how bitter it felt. you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block out the image that had been burned into your mind, but it was no use. it was there, haunting you, mocking you with every beat of your heart.

��fuck,” heeseung muttered under his breath, his voice thick with barely contained anger. “i’m so sorry.”

you shook your head, tears spilling over your cheeks. “i don’t even know why i’m surprised. he’s been pulling away for months, and i just... i just ignored it. i let him lie to me, over and over again. and now... now i feel so fucking stupid.”

heeseung’s hand moved to yours, his fingers wrapping around yours in a comforting squeeze. “you’re not stupid,” he said firmly, his voice steady despite the emotions swirling in his eyes. “you loved him, and you trusted him. that’s not something to be ashamed of.”

but you couldn’t help it. the shame, the guilt, the anger—it all felt like too much, crushing down on you from all sides. “i don’t even know who i am anymore,” you whispered, the confession tearing its way out of you. “i gave him everything, and now... i don’t have anything left.”

“you have me,” heeseung said quietly, but with a certainty that made you look up. his eyes were locked on yours, filled with a warmth and determination that cut through the fog in your mind. “you’ll always have me.”

for the first time in what felt like ages, something inside you shifted, like a small crack in the wall you’d built around your heart. it wasn’t much, but it was enough to let a sliver of light in, enough to remind you that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t as lost as you felt.

“thank you,” you whispered, squeezing his hand in return. the words felt small, but they were all you had to give right now.

heeseung just nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. “we’ll get through this,” he promised, his voice steady and sure. “together.”

and in that moment, sitting on that familiar couch with heeseung by your side, you felt the smallest flicker of hope. it wasn’t much, just a tiny spark in the darkness, but it was there. and maybe, with time, it would grow into something stronger. and for now, for now this was enough.

–

it’s been a week since everything fell apart, and you still haven’t spoken to jake. the days blur together, each one feeling like the last. you try to block out the memory of that picture, but it’s stuck in your mind, like a bad dream that lingers.

heeseung let you stay with him, giving you a place to hide from the pain. he’s been there for you, never asking for more than you can give. he doesn’t push you to talk or to face all the hurt that’s tangled up inside. instead, he stays nearby, his presence like a soft blanket on a cold night, keeping you grounded when everything else feels like it’s spinning out of control.

every time your phone buzzes, your heart jumps, hoping it’s jake, finally ready to explain. but it never is. it’s like he’s disappeared, leaving behind nothing but the broken pieces of what you thought you had.

every day, heeseung gently nudges you to leave the apartment, to get some air, to stop you from just existing in the space. “you can’t stay cooped up forever,” he said, his voice soft but firm.

finally, after days of retreating into yourself, you decided to go. the walls felt like they were closing in, suffocating you, and maybe he was right. maybe fresh air would help, if only a little.

"okay," you said one afternoon, your voice barely above a whisper. heeseung's eyes brightened in relief, though he tried not to show it too much. "let’s go for that walk."

the air outside was cool, and the sunlight felt strange against your skin after being inside for so long. with each step, the weight in your chest lifted just a bit. heeseung stayed beside you, quiet, letting you set the pace. as you were walking, heeseung offered to go to a cafe around the corner, you agreed.

but then, as you turned the corner, your heart stopped. there he was. jake, walking out of the cafe, laughing with the same girl from the picture. the world seemed to freeze for a second, your breath catching in your throat as your eyes met his.

heeseung saw him too. his body tensed next to you, and for a moment, you felt his hand brush against yours, as if he was ready to pull you away or shield you from what was about to happen.

jake stopped laughing the second he saw you, his face paling as he realized who was standing in front of him. the girl beside him looked confused, glancing between you and jake, oblivious to the tension crackling in the air.

"yn..." jake’s voice trembled, like he wasn’t ready to face you. his eyes darted between you and heeseung, panic settling in. the girl beside him, still clueless, tugged at his arm, but he gently pulled away from her.

he took a step toward you, his mouth opening to speak again, but before he could, heeseung stepped in front of you, his body stiff and protective. "don't," heeseung said, his voice low and sharp. "you don’t get to just walk up to her after what you did"

jake's face tightened with regret, and he raised his hands in surrender. "i know i messed up, heeseung. i just want to talk to her. i need to explain—“

"explain?" heeseung’s voice cut through the air, sharp as a knife. "what could you possibly explain? that you lied to her? that you went behind her back? you don't get to apologize now, jake. you’re too late."

you felt frozen between them, unable to speak, the weight of the moment pressing down on your chest. jake took another step closer, his eyes pleading with you now. "yn, please, just let me talk. i never meant to hurt you."

before you could respond, heeseung shoved jake back, his jaw clenched. "don’t even try it." the sudden movement startled jake, and for a moment, it looked like he might back down, but then his face hardened, and he shoved heeseung back.

"stay out of this, heeseung," jake growled, his calm facade slipping. "this is between me and her."

"it stopped being about you and her the second you decided to cheat," heeseung snapped. and before you could even process what was happening, heeseung swung at jake, his fist connecting with jake’s jaw.

jake stumbled back, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. the tension snapped, and suddenly the two were on each other, fists flying, each punch fueled by anger and betrayal. you screamed their names, trying to pull them apart, but they were too lost in the fight to hear you.

the girl jake had been with stood frozen in shock, her eyes wide as the fight escalated.

it wasn’t until a cafe worker rushed out, clearly alarmed by the scene, that the fight broke up. the worker, a tall man with a stern expression, grabbed heeseung by the arm, yanking him back with surprising strength. "hey, that’s enough!" he shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos.

another worker stepped between jake and heeseung, forcing distance between them. heeseung was breathing heavily, his knuckles red from the impact, while jake stood on the other side, his face bruised and bleeding.

"don’t come near her again," heeseung spat, his voice shaking with anger.

jake’s eyes flickered to you, filled with regret and pain, but he said nothing. he turned and walked away, the girl trailing behind him.

— jake's pov

jake sat at his desk, staring at the empty coffee cup in front of him, his fingers tracing the rim absentmindedly. he hadn’t been able to focus on anything all week. his phone sat next to him, screen black, no new messages—just like every other day since you had left.

you were gone. really gone.

he rubbed his face with his hands, exhaustion weighing down his entire body. the office around him was buzzing with activity, but everything felt muffled, distant. all he could think about was you. the way you used to smile when he’d walk through the door, the quiet mornings they’d share before life got too busy. but those moments felt like a distant memory now, like something he could never get back.

he had tried to explain, tried to apologize. but none of his words had reached you. the look on your face when you found out—when you *really knew what he had done—was etched into his mind. the hurt, the betrayal. he had destroyed everything.

he’d messed up. he knew it. and now, the reality of losing you was suffocating.

his eyes flicked to his phone again, hoping—no, praying—that there’d be a message from you. but the screen remained blank, the silence louder than anything he’d ever experienced. he thought back to that day at the cafe, when he saw you again with heeseung. seeing you there, seeing you so close to someone else, had broken something inside him.

heeseung had always been around, always been that solid, dependable guy for you. and now, as much as he hated to admit it, he knew heeseung was there for her in ways he hadn’t been. jake clenched his fists, remembering the fight, the way heeseung had looked at him with pure hatred. he deserved it. every punch, every harsh word—it was what he deserved for letting her slip away.

but the worst part was knowing that you had walked away from him. the one person who had believed in him, who had given him her whole heart, was gone. and it wasn’t just the physical distance that hurt. it was knowing that you’d probably never forgive him. that he had broken something too deeply to ever fix.

jake leaned back in his chair, staring blankly at the ceiling. the loneliness pressed in on him, the regret gnawing at his insides. you had been everything—his anchor, his calm in the storm. and now, without you, everything felt wrong.

—

as you and heeseung walked together, the weight of your past started to feel lighter, heeseung couldn’t shake off the knot of sadness that had settled in his chest. despite everything, despite how jake had hurt you, he saw the way you still had lingering feelings for him. it wasn’t just about the anger or betrayal; it was the fact that jake’s presence still had a hold on your heart, even now.

heeseung had always been there for you, quietly harboring his own feelings, watching as you tried to mend a broken heart. now, as he saw the pain in your eyes, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness. he wanted to be the one to heal your wounds, to be the one who could make you smile again without the shadows of jake's memory lingering over you.

heeseung walked beside you, his thoughts heavy with unspoken emotions. he couldn’t deny the ache in his heart, the longing to be more than just a friend to you. but he also understood that you needed time, space, and healing. he had to be patient, even if it meant wrestling with his own heartache.

the cafe and the fight seemed like distant memories now, fading as you and heeseung continued to walk together. with each step, heeseung vowed to be there for you, no matter what. even if it meant watching from the sidelines as you sorted out your feelings for someone else, he would stand by you, offering his support and hoping that, one day, you might see him for more than just a friend.

the city’s noise came back into focus, but for now, the two of you walked on in silence, finding solace in each other’s presence. and as heeseung held your hand, he felt a glimmer of hope that, with time, things might change. for now, he would be there for you, every step of the way.

but even as he walked beside you, he couldn’t escape the gnawing feeling of inadequacy, the ever-present reminder that he was only a bystander in the wreckage of your heart. every moment with you was bittersweet, filled with the hope that one day you might see him differently, but also the crushing reality that he could never fully erase the pain jake had caused. heeseung’s heart ached with a sorrowful longing, knowing that while he could offer his support, the love he wished he could give you might always remain just out of reach.

kpi’s notes 🗒️: HI GUYS!! sooooo did you guys like it?? i know i know, its not a completely happy ending, but its not THAT sad. i just wanna say TYSM for all of the love and support you gave to “slipping away”, it really makes me happy to know people actually enjoy my writing 😊😊

taglist (bold = couldn’t tag) : @t1iqaa @orimuraa @silquids @vixensss @iilwji @milanco @femmefqtqle @whateverhoon @judedu4rte @who-tf-soddhi @itjengirl @eneoha @jooniesbears-blog @river-demon-slayer @mylettterstoyou @hoonsdrnkdzd @heebambilee @haeeeeefer @pinksweetlittlepiano @jungwonsgff @hmusunoo @jayshadoww @alexiskook21 @02zluvbot @urrluverrr

[yeokii]

ALL FOR US — SIM JAEYUN

synopsis . after many attempted tries of salvaging your relationship, jake gave up, letting you slip through his fingers ┆(bookshelf)

재윤 :: boyf! to ex! jake x fmr . . . O.5 K — angst yayㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤwarnings 🎱 toxicty, cheating accusations, crying, break ups (fun stuff)

PROD. YEOKII this was inspired by all for us (from the euphoria soundtrack) angst is so much easier to write than fluff

Jake knew it.

He knew it the moment you lost that spark in your eyes whenever you looked at him. He knew it the moment you would awkwardly smile whenever he said something cheesy. But wasn’t it a bit too fast?

His thoughts flooded through his head, overthinking every possible cause and outcome, every single one of them making his eyes water.

He looked down at you, your figure being enveloped by him as you rested so fondly against him, so unaware of what was going through his head. His grip on you tightened as he kissed your forehead, trying not to let his tears escape onto the pillow where his head rested.

Fuck.

He couldn’t help it.

He couldn’t help it when he knew you weren’t in love with him anymore. He just didn’t understand why. And once again, for the nth time, his heart started to crack again.

Because he knew. He knew this wasn’t the first time you fell out of love with him. This familiar pattern of yours became poignant in your relationship. The first time felt like a nightmare. When you were both silently eating a pepperoni pizza, you let the words slip out of your mouth.

“I’m sorry.” Was all you could say before you left the kitchen and out of the shared apartment you and Jake had so many memories in.

It took a bit of begging and crying from each side to make you fall in love with him again. It didn’t take long, but Jake felt like dying each second.

The second time it hit felt like a slap to him. You accused him of cheating, while all he did was stay overtime at the company he worked at to earn a higher income to buy you your anniversary gift.

His throat felt dry, and a lump was stuck there. With screaming and fighting, he finally pulled out the necklace you craved for the longest time, which made you cry on the spot. Like the hopeless lover Jake was, he came running to you, pulling you into his embrace, and ushered sweet nothings into your ear while soothing your back.

But this time, it was different.

You were more silent. More disconnected. You stopped saying “I Love You” back. Dates happened once in an eternity. It felt one-sided. You didn't have a reason why. The number of times he salvaged this relationship was all gone in a second.

“I know,” he whispered.

You looked up at him, knowing you felt too nervous to sleep. His teary-eyed gaze met with your guilty one.

He knew you loved him.

But he also knew you weren’t in love with him.

“I’m so sorry,” you said.

He hugged you even tighter, breaking eye contact.

“Go to sleep, princess,” he hushed you.

Tears started pouring out of your eyes, and the same happened to him. That night, you both went to sleep with uncontrollable hushed sobs, knowing that you wouldn’t see him again in the morning.

tags . @flwoie @zuyairus @bubblytaetae @yenqa @haknom @redm4ri @hanniluvi @haechansbbg @taejaysreads @shinunoga-iie-wa @teddywonss

[novaursa]

I've been LOVING your cregan work and wanted to see if you were doing requests. I was thinking something like the reader (velaryon) was previously married to aemond had a kid with him and something happened to the kid, reader escapes aemond and is with cregan but is still morning the life she previously had and feels bad about it. Maybe she's just given up on everything and cregan just wants to help. I'm so sorry if this makes zero sense 😭

Winter's Solace

Requests are closed!

- Summary: Specters of the past came back today once more to hunt you, but Cregan holds them back.

- Paring: velaryon!reader/Cregan Stark

- Note: The reader is bonded with a dragon Grey Ghost.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @daeryna @melsunshine @21-princess

The cold wind howls through the ancient halls of Winterfell, but inside your chambers, the fire crackles softly. The warmth from the hearth does little to pierce the chill that’s wrapped around your heart. The North was supposed to be your sanctuary, the place where you could forget. But the past clings to you like a cloak you cannot shed.

For days now, you’ve sought solitude, slipping from the bed you share with Cregan before the dawn, curling yourself into the furs by the window, watching the sky but not really seeing it. You barely eat. Every mouthful seems to turn to ash on your tongue. The memories—the life you had before, the life taken from you—haunt your every waking moment.

The son you lost, taken by blood and treachery.

Your breath trembles as you draw it in, eyes falling to the grey stones below. You told yourself you would never cry again after that night, but the tears threaten to spill all the same.

A quiet knock at the door stirs you, though you do not answer. You know who it is, and part of you wants to tell him to leave. To let you sit here in silence, to let the grief eat at you until there is nothing left. But he’s stubborn, like the North itself. He enters without waiting for your permission, the familiar sound of his heavy boots crossing the threshold.

"Cregan…" Your voice is barely a whisper, hoarse from lack of use. But you don’t turn to face him.

He doesn’t say anything at first. He knows better than to rush you. Instead, he stands in the doorway for a moment, his presence filling the room with a quiet strength. Then, slowly, he crosses to where you sit, his broad figure casting a shadow over you.

"You haven’t eaten," he says gently, kneeling beside you, his eyes dark with concern. His hand finds yours, rough and warm against your cold skin. He squeezes it, hoping to ground you, to pull you back from the abyss you’re teetering over.

You pull your hand away, though it’s not from any anger toward him. It’s because you’re ashamed. Ashamed of the broken thing you’ve become, ashamed that even now, after all this time, the past still holds you so tightly in its grip. You think of Aemond, of the life you once shared with him—however brief and painful—and the child you lost. You think of the vengeance that Daemon and Rhaenyra sought in your name, a vengeance that tore at what little remained of your soul.

"I can’t…" Your voice breaks, and for a moment, you press your lips together to stop the flood of words that want to spill out. "I can’t pretend anymore, Cregan."

Cregan’s eyes, soft yet strong, search your face. He understands. He’s always understood, more than anyone else ever could. When you fled to the North on the back of Grey Ghost, seeking an end to the torment, it was Cregan who saved you. He didn’t ask for explanations, didn’t demand that you be strong. He simply gave you space, gave you time. But now, the time has come to face the wounds that refuse to heal.

He moves closer, sitting beside you, pulling you gently into his arms. At first, you resist, stiff in his embrace, but the warmth of his body, the steady beat of his heart, begins to melt the ice that’s hardened around your soul.

"I don’t need you to pretend, Y/N," he says, his voice a low rumble in your ear. "Not with me."

You close your eyes, leaning into him, allowing yourself the comfort he offers. His hand strokes your hair, gentle and slow, as though he’s trying to calm a wild animal.

"I left them to die," you murmur, the words slipping out before you can stop them. "Aemond… our son. I should have stayed, should have fought harder—"

"You were never meant to stay with him," Cregan interrupts, his tone firmer now, as though he’s reminding you of something you’ve long forgotten. "The life you had with him was built on lies and violence. It wasn’t your fault, Y/N. None of it."

"But it was my mother…" Your voice breaks again, the bitterness of it burning your throat. "It was Rhaenyra. She sent them—Daemon sent them—to kill him. To take my son."

Cregan holds you tighter, his breath warm against your hair. "You’ve carried that guilt too long, my love. What your mother did… that’s on her. Not on you. You didn’t ask for their blood to be spilled."

The tears come then, hot and heavy, spilling down your cheeks as you sob into Cregan’s chest. You hate yourself for it—hate how weak you feel. But he doesn’t let go. He doesn’t pull away or flinch from your pain.

"I loved him once," you confess, voice barely audible. "Aemond… I loved him before all the bitterness and rage. Before the war tore us apart."

"I know," Cregan says softly. "And you loved your son. That’s why you grieve. But you can’t let it destroy you. You can’t let the ghosts of the past steal the life you have now."

You’re silent for a moment, listening to the crackling of the fire and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His words are true, but they don’t erase the pain. Nothing ever will.

"I don’t know how to move forward," you admit.

"One step at a time," Cregan says, pulling back slightly so he can look into your eyes. His gaze is steady, filled with a determination that gives you something to hold onto. "I can’t take the pain away, Y/N. But I’ll be here, every step, until you find your way."

You look into his face, seeing the man who saved you when you thought there was nothing left to save. The man who offers you not just comfort, but a future, if only you can let yourself reach for it.

"I don’t deserve you," you whisper, guilt still gnawing at the edges of your heart.

"Deserve me?" He smiles, a soft, crooked smile that warms you in a way the fire never could. "I think it’s the other way around. You’re a Targaryen, a Velaryon, bonded with a dragon. And yet, here you are in the North, sharing your life with me. If anyone is undeserving, it’s me."

You shake your head, tears still glistening in your eyes. "No… you saved me."

"And I’ll keep saving you," Cregan says, his thumb brushing away the tear on your cheek. "For as long as you need me to."

For the first time in days, something like hope flickers in your chest. It’s faint, fragile, but it’s there. You lean into him again, closing your eyes, letting his warmth and strength anchor you. The grief will always be there, lurking in the shadows. But with Cregan by your side, you feel like maybe, just maybe, you can face it.

Tomorrow, you’ll eat. Tomorrow, you’ll take another step forward. But for now, in this moment, you allow yourself to simply be held. And for the first time in a long time, that feels like enough.

[jinwoosbabyboo]

“My Apologies You Must Have Me Mistaken For Someone Else”

+Synopsis+

AU where MC(You) remembers everything, but the LADS Men forget everything. Guess it's your turn to make them fall in love all over again. You did it once you can do it again. Right?

How do you tell someone they've loved you for centuries? In every lifetime? You don't. You love them in silence and do your best in hopes they'll reciprocate those feelings you're trying so hard not to show too soon.

Zayne

Your memories of everything with Zayne came flooding back one day. So fast that you actually almost passed out. The pain was excruciating who would have thought remembering could be so painful. Even worse it was in the middle of a battle with a wanderer. In the midst of you holding your head to try and subdue the pain you were pierced straight through the chest.

It was as if everything seemed to slow down. So much blood you could feel your vision darkening while your head was swimming as you lay there on the ground. Your life, no your lives literally flashing in front of your eyes.

"Y/N!" He's yelling. Zayne is yelling. You've never seen this much emotion on his face. Your face is soaked his tears must be dripping onto your face. No wait those are your tears. You're crying.

"I'm sorry" Your voice is nothing more than a raspy whisper. You can feel the pressure of his hands on your body. Why is he so cold? No wait. You're the one that's cold. He's warm.

So warm. You're no longer in pain anymore. You must be dying yet all you could focus on was the fact that Zayne has sacrificed himself again....and again.....and again.

For you. Always you.

That's the only thing that hurts now.

You try to curl into his body but you can't feel your own. It takes everything and then some to reach a hand up and caress his face. That stoic face, which isn't stoic at all now, just one last time. "I'm so sorry Zayne" I'm so sorry I keep forgetting you in every life. You deserve to be happy. I hope we meet again in my next life since I can't seem to die correctly. I'll come back to you and I'll remember you this time. I'll make it right. I'll do whatever it takes to get to you. Don't give up on me.

You died in Zaynes arms that day. The God Astra was pleased by your declaration so he figured he'd give you a little.....gift.

You woke up in the hospital with a jolt almost head butting the person standing over you. It was Tara. "You're awake! oh my gosh you're awake" She ran from the room in a hurry yelling down the hall for a doctor.

She came back shortly with two nurses and ..... Zayne? Your heart rate shot through the roof as he approached the bed taking a seat next to you. You couldn't help yourself the biggest smile plastered on your face as you wrapped you arms around his neck and hugged him tight.

It felt so good to have him in your arms again.

He sat there frozen not moving an inch. You noticed the confused stares of his colleagues and Tara behind him. Was he just being professional? You figured he'd at least be happy you remember him this time.

You died in his arms why is he acting like this? There was a quick double pat on your back as he slowly removed your arms from his neck. "Glad to see you're awake Miss..." He trails off as he looks at you chart "....Miss L/N. You were out for quite some time"

You stared in disbelief there was no way he forgot you. It had to be because there were others in the room with you. "Can I have a word with you alone Za- .... Dr. Zayne?"

His expression gave away nothing as he dismissed the nurses and Tara followed close behind. "I'll be right outside" You gave her a curt nod and a tight lipped smile. As the door closed behind her you turned to Zayne who was already getting started on checking your vitals.

"Zayne" He raised a hand cutting you off.

"Your vitals are stable we should be able to discharge you in two days tops." So professional. "Now what is it you'd like to speak to me about?'

"You- you don't remember? The wanderer and me in your arms and the blood" He stops you again.

"Ah yes your co-worker said you were pierced center mass during battle and hit your head pretty hard." He flips a page for your chart giving you nothing but professionalism. This isn't the Zayne you remember. "Luckily she got you medical attention in time. The attack grazed your heart and managed to puncture a lung in the process which saved your life in a way. We will need to do regular monitoring on your heart and lung just to be safe considering your profession as a hunter"

"You don't remember me do you?' You question with a shaky voice.

"My apologies you must have me confused with someone else." He stands and switches your IV bag before settling his gaze back on you. "Two days. We'll schedule your first two appointments on your day of discharge now please get some rest your heart rate has been elevated since I arrived." With that he turns and exits your room and just as soon as he leaves Tara is hurrying to your side to hug you with tears in her eyes. You stare blankly at the wall as tears slowly stream down your face.

So this is what it feels like. The love of your life doesn't remember you while you remember everything. It almost feels as though everything you two once had was never real.

He doesn't remember, but you do. You've switched places. But you made a promise and you intend to keep it.

"I'll come back to you and I'll remember you this time. I'll make it right. I'll do whatever it takes to get to you"

Rafayel, Xavier, and Sylus coming soon....

[lixies-favorite-cookie]

Don't cry over spilled milk ◦ l.f

-Accidents happen is an easy thing to say when your daughter didn't just dump a cup of milk on your husband's new black carpet and all of a sudden— you can't breathe

Paring◦ Dad!Lee Felix x Mom!Reader

Words◦ 1633

Genre ◦ Hurt and comfort, ngl this was like really angsty and I didn't mean for it to be 😭, definitely fluffy towards the end though

Warnings ◦ Kinda points towards the fact that the reader might have been abused, descriptions of the readers father being an asshole, talk about abuse, the term beating black and blue, crying, spilled milk, Felix being sickeningly sweet, overuse of love, descriptions of bad dreams, trauma, bleeding, bad thoughts, and wounds (all these are metaphors).

Taglist◦@thetoastghost222I hope you like it <33

A/N ◦this is just something simple and cute I cooked up real fast I didn't really put too much thought into it honestly I just let my brain go also don't judge me but I literally just looked up "cute Korean girl names that mean sunshine" in the search engine and picked the first thing so... also I'm going to be reuploading all my old stuff into my new blog in one fair swoop soooo I'm rereading this and there's something about my writing I have always noticed is off so if anybody can point it out/ give me advice I would literally appreciate it so much

~cookiecreates 🍪

You took "Don't cry over spilled milk" very seriously because it took every fiber of your being not to sob when Ha-Yun's glass of milk dropped on Felix's new carpet, throwing a vibrant white stain on the expensive black furnishing. You really don't know how many different adjectives your brain could come up with to describe the horror you felt pounding in your heart.

It was as though this moment was a portal into the deepest caverns of your mind—a key that unlocked a swarm of memories flickering in the back of your brain like fireflies. You squeeze your eyes shut, pushing back the flood of bad feelings that seem to wash over you quicker than you can wipe them away—You're transported back to those days when your head was high and your hands were small, spilling milk on your dad's new carpet. You were so little, so naive, you didn't know that the world wasn't all butterflies and unicorns; that milk stained and dads got mad. You vowed to be the parent who held their baby's hand as they picked it up, smiling when they threw the dirty towel in the trash. 

Accidents happen.

Accidents happen.

Accidents happen.

But you don't know if that's what Felix vowed to do, and with the carpet being 600 dollars, you wouldn't be surprised if he beat the poor girl black and blue.

Just like your dad did. 

Your fingers tremble as you grip the cup in your hands, the world seems to swirl around you, swimming in all your bad dreams. It only took a teaspoon to die and a bad thought to drown. How easy it is to be pulled under the waves when you're vulnerable. You thought you kept the sea at bay, but even the most experienced divers can get pulled into a riptide. 

The cup clatters in the sink, startling you out of your thoughts. Ha-Yun babbles in the corner, throwing cheerios to the ground. This was all your fault; you shouldn't have put her high chair in the living room. 

All your fault.

All your fault.

All your-

The lock clicks.

Your heart drops, plummeting into the grave in which you buried all your pain. You scramble to find something to cover the stain. In all your panic, you forget that shit doesn't magically go away, sticking to your skin like syrup dripping down your spine. Everything was spinning in your vision as your lungs contracted, you wondered if you could really drown in theoretical oceans, especially the ones that occupied your mind.

It all seemed so silly as Felix's frame came into view, like he was made entirely from watercolor pouring down the page. You threw the towel over the mess, attempting to conceal your sobs.

Maybe he'll walk away.

Maybe he's too tired to notice.

Maybe you can spare his wrath.

“Love,” Felix's deep voice floats into your ears like cotton candy disintegrating under the waves of words you drown in. Scars were never promises on the skin; the human body is a delicate chemistry, and with the right motivation, it can crumble.

You snap. Break apart. Succumb to the river of sentences that stuck to your skin, like honey and glass. Time heals all wounds, but what about the ones that never scar, never scab? What about the ones whose vile words poisoned the flesh, eating away at your soul? Time doesn't heal all wounds because sometimes wounds are just too deep. Strong arms wrap around your huddled frame, your face drawn to your knees. 

“I-I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." you sob mindlessly, it was as though your younger self control—caught in a weird form of fight or flight—dissociating from reality.

“Sorry? Sorry for what, love?” He whispers, dropping to the floor and pulling you onto his lap. He's so gentle, so calm, so completely opposite of any love you have ever felt or any father you have ever seen.

"Milk-" You choke; your words getting caught in your throat. You dig your face into his shoulder. "She spilled the milk on the carpet. I'm so sorry." The tears keep coming as though you're bleeding all the emotions you had kept under wraps for too long; it was like an infection, and Felix's loving arms cleansed your wounds.

"Oh, love," he coos, petting your hair, "didn't anybody ever tell you not to cry over spilled milk." You can't help but chuckle, a weird mix between a sniffle and a sob. 

You must look like such a wreck right now—face blotchy and red, snot dripping down your nose, tears pouring down your cheeks—you look like you just crawled out of the pits of hell, and he still looks at you like you're the most beautiful woman he's ever laid his eyes on.

In that moment, you feel so silly, so stupid, kinda wanting to crawl back into the pits of hell from which you came. You should have known he wasn't going to react the way your father had. Felix was nothing like the man; he was kind, he was gentle, he was all sunshine and smiles, he was safe.

"I'm sorry for being such a wreck." You cuddle deeper into his chest, sniffling into his shirt. 

"Never be sorry for being human, and especially, never be sorry for showing me." It took everything in you not to break down again, letting his strong arms hold you while you scrubbed all the syrup from your soul, but you have a baby and a mess on the carpet that will be ten times harder to clean if you leave it sitting.

"I'll go get another towel," you sniffle, wiping the tears from your cheeks.

"Don't," he pulls you back down on his lap, “Put your arms around me.” You lock your hands behind his neck, yelping when he picks you up bridal style.

“What- Felix, what are you doing?” You squeal as he walks you to the couch, laying you gently on the cushions.

“I'm showing you how to clean up spilled milk,” He smirks like you didn't just destroy his 600-dollar carpet; his attitude genuinely baffles you.

"How are you not mad?” You whispered, dazed, your mind turning into mush. He tilts your chin up, peering at you with a soft smile and kind eyes. Your breath hitches, little heart eyes popping in your pupils. 

"Accidents happen, love, you never grow out of’em." You melt, literally disintegrating into a pile of goo on the couch.

"D-Do you, um, D-Do you need help?" You stutter, blinking harshly to try and gather your thoughts. It was as if his gentle heart short-circuited your tangled wires—knotted from years of wear and lack of care. 

"You just sit there and look pretty, and I'll show you why you shouldn't cry over spilled milk." He kisses you softly, smiling on your skin, "Okay, baby," he breathes, passion crackling between your lips, "You just keep-" Ha-Yun screeches, slapping her high chair full of Cheerios. Felix groans, tipping his forehead to touch yours. 

"You know, one of these days we've got to get a babysitter. I don't know how long I can stand just being able to admire my beautiful wife from afar," your cheeks burn as you tilt your head down bashfully, "Well maybe we can do that when milk isn't marinating on the floor," he claps, jumping up from his arched position, "yep, your right, jeez baby, you really know how to pull me away from a task."

You cheese, pulling the collar of your shirt over your face. "Go on," you shoo him away, "You were going to teach me something."

He smirks, walking over to the kitchen, pulling the roll of paper towels off the counter and tossing them down next to the mess, unlocking Ha-Yun's highchair to lift her out of it.

"What are you-"

"Shh sit there and look pretty," The way his eyes sparkle and his lips tilt makes him appear almost mischievous. You sink back into the couch, folding your arms in front of your chest, assessing him intently. Ha-Yun beams when she sees Felix, waving her arms around, spitting gobbly gook.

"Oh is that right, well I couldn't have ever guessed," he nods attentively like she just stated the stages of evolution, "Well, as much as I love this conversation, baby, you are going to need to clean up your mess". He chastises her gently, and she frowns, glaring at him, he lifts his brows in retort.

"You know you've got a lot of sass for a 4-year-old," he grumbles "Probably got it from your momma," he sends you a look, lips curled up in a smirk. Your jaw drops in faux offense.

"You know what-" he puts his finger to his lips, cutting you off.

"Were you this bad in school? Cause the teacher," he gestures to himself, "is teaching."

"I'm gonna-"

"Looking pretty," He singsongs, a smile playing on his lips. You bite your cheek, holding back your glare. He snickers, placing her down next to the milk—putting a paper towel in her tiny hands.

"Can you help daddy clean it up please," he squats down to her level, stretching his fingers over hers. She blinks down at the splattered milk. You can almost see the gears turning in her head when he starts carefully moving her hand back and forth over the mess. 

"See!" he cheers, his eyes glowing with pride, "Accidents happen, you just gotta learn to clean them up."

Watching the scene unfold before you fills you with an obscene form of bliss, like you have achieved one of life's greatest victories—that maybe all dads weren't raging assholes that yelled when you spilled milk because, like Felix said, accidents happen—you never grow out of'em.

©CookieCreates (posted: June, 26th 2024) All rights reserved. Do not translate, copy, or claim my works as yours! I only post on this platform so if any of my works are elsewhere, report and notify me immediately.

[littlefireball]

ᴄꜱ|ᴊᴇᴀʟᴏᴜꜱʏ ᴏꜰ ᴇx-ʙᴏʏꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ (ᴍ)

ᴇx-ʙᴏʏꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ ɪᴅᴏʟ ꜱᴀɴ x  ᴀᴄᴛʀᴇꜱꜱ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ 

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ꜱᴍᴜᴛ|ᴜɴᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴇx|ꜱᴇᴍɪ-ᴘᴜʙʟɪᴄ ꜱᴇx|ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ|ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀɪɴɢ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2.3ᴋ

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ꜱᴀɴ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴜᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜ, ʜᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɢʀᴀᴅᴜᴀʟʟʏ ꜰᴏʀɢᴇᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ. ʙᴜᴛ ɪɴ ꜰᴀᴄᴛ, ɪᴛ ᴅᴏᴇꜱɴ'ᴛ. ᴡʜᴇɴ ʜᴇ ꜱᴀᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ɪɴᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀᴄᴛᴏʀ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʟᴀʏ, ʜɪꜱ ᴊᴇᴀʟᴏᴜꜱʏ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟ. ɴᴏ, ʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ ᴀᴄᴄᴇᴘᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ.

After parting ways with San, you poured your heart and soul into your work, using it as a means to distract yourself from the pain of the breakup. There were no betrayals, no major arguments—just a gradual fading of his feelings for you, leaving you feeling empty and lost. Despite your efforts to salvage the relationship, all you received in the end was a simple "I'm sorry," a phrase that cut deeper than any knife.

 Acting had always been your escape, a way to channel your emotions into something productive, and today was no different. You and the main lead, Yujin, stood face to face with a smile. Today’s scenes were all explicit and intimate. But your relationship was pretty good, so it won’t be too embarrassing. “Fighting!” He said softly, clenching a fist . “You too” You replied with a small smile. 

“Ok…action!” 

“Come back to me, please,” Yujin stepped forward and leaned dangerously close, you could even feel his breath fall on your skin. “But…your family…” “I don’t care.” Cupping your face with his big hands, he gave you a deep kiss. 

Both of your breaths became rapidly because of heavy panting, mixed with faint moans and shy sucking sounds. You gradually retreated as he moved forward and stopped as your back pressed against the cold wall. 

“Misoo…” You moaned out his name as he sucked hard on your neck, tilting your head to give him more access. Yujin picked you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist, walking to the sofa before putting you down. 

“Mine," He climbed over you and settled himself between your thighs, lifting your chin and claiming your mouth into a hungry kiss. Memories of being with San suddenly flooded your mind, making tears well up in your eyes. But you immediately shook it off and got back to acting. This kissing scene was so long that you and him almost got lost in it. 

“Ok, cut!!” Your lips parted as the director’s voice rang in your ears. “Good take! Take a rest.” As you sat alone in your dressing room, the echoes of the intense scene still lingering in your mind, you couldn't help but feel a wave of emotions crashing over you. The facade of strength you had put on for the camera melted away, leaving you vulnerable and raw.

The memories of San haunted you like a ghost, his smile, his touch, his voice...they all played on a loop in your mind, tormenting you with what once was and what could have been. You tried to push them away, bury them deep down, but they clawed their way back to the surface, refusing to be ignored.

A knock on the door startled you out of your reverie. "Come in," you called out, trying to compose yourself before facing whoever was on the other side. The door creaked open, revealing Yujin standing there, a concerned look in his eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. You forced a smile, nodding slightly. "I'm fine, just...lost in thought, I guess."

Yujin came closer, sitting beside you on the dressing table. "I can see that it's been tough for you lately. Breakups are never easy, especially when it's so sudden and unexpected." His words were like a soothing balm to your wounded heart, offering comfort in a sea of turmoil.

“Maybe will you have dinner with me? If you ever need a shoulder to cry on, I’m around.” He asked, his face was as red as a tomato, making you chuckle at his shyness. 

“Yah, sure.” 

—---

The TV series quickly gained popularity, especially due to the intimate scenes between you and Yujin that sparked heated discussions among netizens, fueling rumors of a real-life romance. Fans meticulously analyzed every interaction, every glance, searching for confirmation of their suspicions. 

Struggling to adapt to life without you, San found the ache of your breakup hadn't dulled with time. Memories of your shared laughter, your whispered confessions, your secret meetings after work, where you sought solace in his arms, late-night phone calls during his travels abroad and the warmth of your embrace haunted him, refusing to fade with time.

The breaking point came at an awards ceremony. As a performance guest, San sat in the dressing room waiting for his stage. Your presence on screen captivated him, leaving him unusually quiet. 

“What? I’m okay, guys. We broke up.” Yes, you two broke up but San found himself unable to tear his gaze away from the screen, captivated by your every smile, every gesture. The rest of ATEEZ could only look at each other but nobody spoke. 

When the award for Best Couple was announced, and it was awarded to you and Yujin, the crowd erupted in cheers and applause. San felt a sharp pang of jealousy and bitterness when he laid on both of you, full of happiness. But why? Didn’t he have any feelings for you anymore? Or did he not realize that he still likes you? 

“Err, maybe we…” Wooyoung attempted to change the subject but San suddenly stood up and left the room. “I go to toilet,” 

“Just leave him alone,” Seonghwa shook his head as wooyoung tried to catch him up. “He would be fine.” 

Unable to ignore the turmoil in his heart, San reached out to you, his fingers trembling as he typed out a message. "Can we have a talk?" He stared at the screen to wait for your reply. Usually, you would reply to him within seconds. “The ceremony is not over yet, she won’t reply to me now…” He comforted himself, trying hard to hide his uneasiness. 

But, even if the ceremony had ended for more than an hour, his message was still unread. He kept checking his phone to see if you were online. No. You weren't even online before the ceremony.

"Hello?" The ringing phone brought San back to reality, 'Seonghwa hyung' flashing on the screen. "San, where are you? We have to go to an after-party," Seonghwa said urgently. "I'm on my way," San replied, hanging up before slipping the phone back into his pocket. With a heavy heart, he made his way towards the after-party, preparing himself for the inevitable encounter with you and Yujin.

As he approached, he saw you standing alone by the bar, a look of vulnerability in your eyes that mirrored his own. "Hey," San said, surprising you. "Hey," you replied softly, forcing a smile.

"Hmm…Congratulations," San stammered, unsure of what to say. "Thanks," you responded, taking a sip of your wine, feeling uneasy in his presence. Didn’t you want him to talk to you? Why did you feel so heartbroken when you should be happy?

"Hmm…Where's Yujin?" San asked, trying to make conversation. "I don't know. He's not my boyfriend," you clarified. San's face lit up with a hidden smile.

"Oh, I thought you two were dating, with all the news..." You felt a pang of disappointment as you realized he might only be talking to you because you had a new boyfriend.

"Hey, are you San, right?" Yujin approached, waving his hand. San's smile faded, but he greeted Yujin politely. "Nice to meet you."

"Y/n’s acting was amazing, wasn't it?" Yujin complimented, leaning in close to you. San watched, a hint of jealousy in his eyes.

"Thank you," you replied, feeling torn between the two men. San contemplated taking you away from Yujin, but he held back, unsure of his own feelings.

“Your acting was good, too” “Oh, thanks. So, is it the reason why our fans always match us as a couple?” Yujin said provocatively, making you almost squirt. 

“*Cough* Yeah, we still have something to talk about, PRIVATELY. Excuse me.” Without a second thought, San took your hand in his and pulled you towards the room without people.  

“Wait, wait, San.” Your struggle was completely in vain. “Hey, you…!” He pressed you against the door, leaning so close that your lips touched as he spoke. As San's lips brushed against yours, a jolt of electricity shot through your body. His eyes bore into yours, filled with a mix of longing and uncertainty. The air between you crackled with tension, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the room.

"Y/n, I... I can't stand seeing you with Yujin," San whispered, his voice husky with emotion. "I thought I could ignore it, but no, I can't. It breaks my heart when I see you with him."

"San, I... I..." you started, but he gently placed a finger on your lips, silencing you.

"I don't want to pressure you, Y/n. But I had to tell you how I feel. I can't pretend anymore," San confessed, his hand trembling slightly against the door.

In that moment, everything seemed to fall into place. The pieces of the puzzle that had been scattered for so long suddenly clicked together. You reached out, cupping San's face in your hands, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips.

"I've always loved you, San." you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I missed us…” “And here we are.” 

A soft smile tugged at the corners of San's lips, relief washing over his features. Without another word, he closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a tender, hesitant kiss.

You slightly opened your mouth to welcome his tongue, his tip intertwining with yours, sending a wave of happiness and sweetness throughout your bodies. 

“Who kisses you better? Tell me, y/n. Me or yujin?” He said between the kiss, earning a chuckle from you. “What if I say you are not good enough?" "Then I’ll show you who is better.” 

The passion between you ignited,  each kiss a fervent exploration of shared desire, a merging of souls that left an indelible mark on your hearts. You yielded to his advances, allowing him to take the lead as his movement grew more urgent, more possessive

His hand trailed down to the slit of your dress, finding the hem of your panties and pulling it down in one go. His fingers caressed your clit, making your juices flow out because of sudden excitement. You moaned in his mouth as he pushed his index finger into your cunt, moving in and out while scratching your tight wall. 

“San…” “Gotta prepare you well, darling.” He pulled out the finger and picked you up, shoving you to the sofa as if you were nothing. Oh god, you missed this feeling. 

Unbelted his pants, San freed his angry red cock that arched for so long. “Remember the feeling how I fuck you?” Slowly, his erection found its way to your entrance, sliding in as you arched your back in response. “Ah~fuck!” 

Cupping your face, he pressed his lips against yours, starting to move. It had been so long since you felt this way. The sensation of him inside you drove him wild, his cock twitching with each thrust, drawing moans from your lips.

"I may not last long," he groaned, fingers intertwined with yours as he buried his face in your neck. A loud groan escaped you, surprising both of you. "Feel good, huh?" he asked, pressing his body against yours, the added friction heightening the pleasure.

The room was filled with the symphony of moans and the rhythmic slapping of skin, creating a melody that resonated in their ears. "I need deeper, babe," he whispered, sitting up to position your leg on his shoulder, his movements steady and intense. The depth of his thrusts pushed you towards the peak of pleasure, your eyes tightly shut as tears of ecstasy streamed down your face.

But San desired more, craving a deeper connection with you. He shifted your legs to the side, holding your arms as he pulled you into a passionate kiss. His tongue sought entrance with a mix of urgency and possessiveness, a silent declaration of his claim over you. Despite the initial expectation of rejection or disgust, you found yourself surrendering to the intensity of the moment, willingly succumbing to the whirlpool of desire that he embodied.

"I can't get enough of you, baby," he whispered, pulling you close and wrapping his arms around your waist. You nestled into his embrace, cupping his face as your lips met in a kiss. Breathless and lost in the moment, your lips remained locked in a dance of fervor. “Hm…san…” You carefully bounced in a slow pace as if testing the water. 

"Baby, you can go faster.” As the intensity grew, he urged you to go faster, his desire evident in his voice. “You wouldn't have been so slow before. Or maybe you need some help?” With a sudden, powerful thrust, he hit your sweet spot, eliciting a cry of pleasure mixed with a hint of pain. "Oh, fuck!" you gasped, gripping his shoulder tightly.

“That’s my girl.” He took control, gripping your wrist to control you bouncing at a very fast pace that sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Moans and cries filled the air as you both gave in to the primal urge driving you towards ecstasy. His thick cock totally ruined you, the numbness from the g post colliding making you dizzy. 

He knew you were about to cum as your wall became so tight and juices flowed out. “Cum for me, cum for me." With a loud moan, you released everything, wetting his thick cock. He also came in your cunt after a few thrusts. 

“What…what if I get pregnant…?” Maybe this question was too late to ask though. “I will take care of both of you.” He gently tucked your hair behind your ears, pecking at your red cheek. 

“Let's get back together, Y/N.” 

[lavenderfilledcoffin]

apologies

noun

a regretful acknowledgment of an offense or or failure.

•*¨*•.¸¸♪✧•*¨*•.¸¸♪

Sebastian Solace.

Your heart ached for him.

He was perfection in itself—no, he's better than perfection.

Your sole purpose in life is to love him, you're sure of it.

How could someone like you deserve someone like him?

He's too good for you.

You never deserved to be with him.

There will always be someone better than you.

The thoughts turned sour immediately, running through your head all at once.

Your heart hurt, too heavy and fragile to handle these horrible thoughts that plagued your very being.

You needed Sebastian's attention, bad. You craved it. It's all that gave your life purpose and meaning.

Why does your mind have to spiral when he's gone?

"I'm back—oh." Sebastian's eyes ran over your body. Your face was tucked into your knees, arms hugging your legs closely.

"You hate me, don't you, Seb?" Your voice felt small, too weak to be deemed a voice. How pathetic could you possibly get?

"I—" You cut him off, "don't lie to me." Your eyes stared into his bright blue ones, you couldn't even recognize him. His face was nothing but a giant mess, obstructed by your tears of pure anger.

"[Name], I love you, don't say that." His words felt like a lie. Everything he told you felt like a lie. How could he hurt you like this? Didn't he love you?

"You're a fucking liar." You spoke through gritted teeth, angry tears streaming down your face.

The only thing circling in his head was what could have possibly went wrong. You were so sweet and happy earlier, what did he do wrong? Sebastian tried to reason with you, but you stormed out of his hideout. He didn't bother chasing you, figuring that you needed alone time.

Sebastian stared at the spot you were curled up in. He knew you didn't mean those harsh words... Right?

You ran as far away as you could from his hideout. You hated him. You hated Sebastian. You wanted him dead.

He didn't care about you. He wouldn't even run after you. You would have done it in a heartbeat—

Oh.

Oh.

You ruined everything. You sabotaged a beautiful relationship because of your selfishness. Why...?

You hadn't even realized it. Your legs gave out, stopping right in front of an office room.

You quickly scrambled into it, hiding in the corner next to a locker. Your body curled up into fetal position.

Everything hit all at once.

Guilt.

Anger.

Sadness.

It felt horrible. Your emotions controlled you as if you were some puppet. Why? You felt so helpless. You just wanted to be in his arms in the safety of his hideout.

'Shit...' Sebastian was getting lost, he realized he shouldn't have let you run off like that.

"[Name]?" His voice called out for you, yet there was no trace. It was almost as if you had vanished into thin air.

His tail slithered faster and faster, desperate to find you.

Something bad could have happened. Had an angler come by? Oh, fuck.

Muffled sobs stopped him in his tracks, he followed the noise.

Sebastian had to catch his breath before he entered the opened room. "[Name]?" He spoke softly, noticing your once again curled up body.

"D—Don't look at me! Go away!" You cried out, hugging your knees even tighter.

The sight made his heart break. Sure, he's seen you like this numerous times, but that doesn't lessen the reality of the situation.

He moved closer to you, scooping you up into his arms despite your broken sentence telling him not to.

You punched his chest, sobbed, and screamed while he held you. "I— don't deserve..."

Your cries came to a halt. You had exhausted yourself enough to where you fell asleep.

Your cheeks were tear stained, but Sebastian wiped them away.

"I got you."

You woke up, were you dead?

A blinding yellow light came into view. It was Sebastian's lure.

The memory of your actions came flooding back, and you nearly started crying again before he held you close.

"It's okay. I promise. I love you, and I always will no matter what."

"You don't mean that." You sniffled, a tear falling from your eye.

"I do. I mean it. I love you with every fiber of my being." His left hand made its way onto your face, gently caressing it.

"I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." You shut your eyes, hot tears falling down your cheeks.

"It's okay, I promise. I know you don't mean it." Sebastian leaned back so that you would be half lying on him.

"I love you, okay?" He pressed a small kiss to your forehead.

In the blink of an eye, you felt somewhat better. No hatred or guilt enveloped your being. Ah. Finally.

Peace in your mind.

[mosaickiwi]

(sorry for any mistakes, English is not my native language) Hello, I hope you are doing well! Can I ask you for a drabble about the wedding day of an emotional MC who burst into tears because she thought that this day would never come and REDACTED, but without the “lavish ceremony” (lots of guests, wedding suits, huge celebration, etc.) (please forgive me, I hope I was able to express myself clearly, thank you very much and have a nice day!) ฅ'ω'ฅ

!!!

By law I must post wedding fic on Valentine's Day!!!

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

~Wedding Day~

You nervously toyed with the ring in your palm, heart racing so hard it hurt. It was still difficult to believe what was happening. This was happening.

It was the same golden ring your partner had worn since you first met him. There wasn't a moment you ever saw them without it as he changed from a shy, stuttering mess in a cardigan to the clingy, dark-haired brat of a man you fell in love with more and more each day. Although the amount of rings they wore had grown.

That fateful day on the playground was something you couldn't even remember, and from what your companion told, you didn't want to. The second try was a far better memory for the both of you anyway. You were the one who proposed that time, catching them by complete surprise with the confidence you never usually had to ask anything of him. But you managed to do it.

And now you were the one who would put a ring on their finger.

“We haven't even started the vows,” [REDACTED] quietly said, pulling you from your thoughts. “Y'can’t be cryin’ just yet, Angel.”

“Am I crying?” The words came out hoarse from your already tightening throat. You hadn't realized. Sure enough, hot tears were streaming down your face as he gently wiped at them with his thumb. 

You tried to calm down, gazing up at him to distract yourself. Their voice had the same familiarly teasing tone it always did, but you could tell from the soft quiver to his lower lip that he was holding back his own tears.

“Yeah, it’s—” He let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob, then hurriedly pushed his dark hair out of his reddening eyes. You wanted to tease him back about it, but you knew if you tried to speak again the tears would come flooding even worse. Another few moments passed as you both tried to collect yourselves.

Surprisingly, it took him a little longer. The tears on your cheeks had long fell and dried while he stood in front of you, eyes shrouded behind their bangs.

But after one more unsteady breath, he seemed to find his way again and look at you. “Are you ready?” they asked, a shakiness to their hands as he reached for the dangling chain around your neck—the necklace he’d given to you months ago once he’d found the courage to say yes to your proposal.

With your anxious nod of approval, he continued. Cool fingertips brushed at your collarbone, finding the silver clasp at the back of your neck and releasing it with a faint clicking of metal. The necklace fell loosely in his hands as he pulled it away. The golden ring easily slid from the chain and he rolled it in his fingers for a long moment, staring at it silently.

They were noticeably calmer this time, with a trembling smile that reached their eyes as he took your left hand and repeated himself. 

“Ready?”

[fatuismooches]

a lesson in truth.

It had been a long, long time since your death, and many things had happened in the puppet’s life. The Balladeer, Scaramouche, had fallen, his efforts to become a true God thwarted by the Traveler and the God of Wisdom. Everything was for naught, and now he was reduced to a mere shell of his former power.

Now, Scaramouche had found himself at the beck and call of Sumeru’s Archon and assisting the blonde-haired Traveler. It was not what he planned to be, but he had accepted this outcome, for there was nothing else for him to do. Though having that bothersome fairy talk nonstop was certainly grating for his ears.

When he connected to Irminsul, he didn’t think you would pop up in the saplings. Scaramouche wasn’t even trying to look for you on purpose, rather, the piece of hidden information stuck out to him and he had to know what was calling him so badly. He brought the bright sapling in front of him despite the yelling of the Traveler’s companion in the background, itching to know what it would show him. Instantly, a memory of you flooded into the minds of Scaramouche, the Traveler, Paimon, and Nahida. The former Harbinger gasped at the sight of you, many emotions flowing through him at once.

“Ack?! What’s happening?” Paimon yelled, half confused from the sudden intrusion of her mind by a smiling person. Even the Traveler could not help but be surprised, for they did not know who this mysterious person was. Nahida remained silent, only vaguely aware of who you were. She would only learn more of the story now. But Scaramouche had tuned all of them out. All he could focus on was the extremely vivid memory Irminsul provided him with of you. The one he loved, no, still loves so much.

The first thing he was shown was the day you two confessed to each other. The puppet remembers the moment clear as day, but seeing it happen once again right in front of him was a different story. You were so close, he wanted to simply reach out and touch you once more, but you were so far away at the same time…

“Eh? Is that… The Balladeer? He looks so different… and that outfit! And that person is so close to him, what are they-” Paimon interrupted herself with a dramatic gasp as you two declared love for each other, only for Kabukimono to begin crying into your chest as you stroked his hair. “Oh wow…” Paimon’s voice was much more quiet now, “Paimon didn’t know The Balladeer could be like that.” Scaramouche’s eyebrow twitched in annoyance at the conversation, but going through Irminsul’s records of you was more important right now.

He revisited so many parts of his life - the time he cut his fingers while cutting carrots and then got excited over a boo-boo kiss (to which Paimon giggled only to quickly shut up at the puppet’s expression.) He skimmed over the multitude of naps he took with you and came across the time you were gravely injured by those samurai. He paused there, unconsciously swallowing at the sight of the sword slashing you and the blood splattering across his face. The other three onlookers remained in silence because it would be far too cruel to comment even with the tense terms they had with The Balladeer.

The next pocket of memories was much more light-hearted, with you celebrating his birthday for the first time, baking a cake, and gifting him his cherished comb. The growling of Paimon’s stomach and her compliment of your baking skills didn’t go unnoticed by him. She wasn’t wrong, after all. Now, the Lavender Melon tree that the two of you planted together appeared.

He wishes he saved a part of the tree before it burned to the ground. Perhaps he could have regrown it if he had its branch. But it was far too late for that now.

Moving onto the next memory, Traveler swiftly covered their travel guide’s eyes at the sight of yours and Kabukimono’s nude bodies in the bathtub together, while the small girl whined and complained. Scaramouche abruptly stopped after this. The next memory… he knew what it was going to be, and he dreaded it. Once again, he was showered in all of these lovely memories with you only to be assaulted with the reality of this cruel world at the end.

“Hey, why did you stop? Paimon wants to see more of [Name]!” Scaramouche didn’t have the energy to react to her comment.

“Paimon…” The Archon gently chided her with a lingering sadness.

“Eh? Nahida, why do you sound like that?” Paimon’s question was answered in no time as the puppet bit the bullet and finally moved on to the last memory. There you were, brushing his hair and holding him for one final time, giving him the last kiss he’d ever receive from your lips. Scaramouche’s face was expressionless as he gazed at the final memories of you in Irminsul. But there was no need for expression when the emotion in his eyes told it all. Not even Paimon could bring herself to jab at the puppet anymore when the sincere longing for you was ever so present in his eyes. Although, despite the tender scene, Paimon and the Traveler could sense the apprehension coming from their former enemy’s body and tensed up in nervousness too.

This was it. Scaramouche would see how you succumbed, sacrificing yourself for him so he could survive the dangers of the furnace. If he were able to hold his breath, he would be doing so now. Only that… what he saw was not the truth that he had told him. When he saw Niwa murdered by Escher- no, Dottore, he had a horrible feeling sink into his entire body.

He was right.

The deceived puppet saw the truth of the Tatarasuna Incident. The way you passionately defended him. The way your face paled and you struggled to breathe, tears rolling down your cheeks, lying at the mechanic’s feet. The way your heart was viciously ripped out by Escher and your body discarded elsewhere, without even a proper farewell. You never sacrificed yourself for him, nor did the others kill you. It was never your fault. Nothing was. It was Escher’s, or rather the Doctor’s… And Niwa too, he… everything was one big lie. His head was clouded and spinning so much he couldn’t hear the Traveler’s and Paimon’s muffled words of horror at the sight. He couldn’t take it. He needed to exit Irminsul’s memories now or-

But for some reason, another memory forced its way into Scaramouche’s mind. His eyes widened at this, and he realized that he didn’t recognize this particular memory. Despite his head and heart pounding at the true cause of your death, he found it in him to pay attention one last time. He would always pay attention to you.

You were at a desk, a mostly blank paper in front of you and a pen twirling in your fingers. Multiple crumpled papers lay in the bin next to you, a few on the floor instead. You seemed to be contemplating very hard about what to write. You would write a sentence, squint your eyes at it, and then sigh, toss it, and begin anew.

“Ugh, how does one go about writing a letter for another to read after their death?” His expression darkened at your words. You were writing a letter to give him after you died? Though, for your morbid words, you looked more disappointed in yourself than sad. “Nothing I say seems to feel right…” You sighed to yourself before putting your pen to paper once more.

“To my dearest Kabukimono… if you are reading this, it means I have passed on and I am no longer with you. We both knew this day would come, I being a mortal, and you being a divine creation… Regardless, I do not know what our relationship will be like so many years in the future, but at the time I am writing this, I hope it continues to be the most loving and healthy one in all of Teyvat.”

“I know your tender heart must be destroyed by my departure from this world. But please, do not despair too much. I know you will grieve and miss me terribly, but do not let it consume or change you. You are a kind person, and do not let anyone change that, not even me. Please. As long as you carry our memories together in you, you will be fine, no matter where you go.”

“I do not know how or when I’ll die, but I hope it’s after many, many years of being with the love of my life. I hope we spent every last moment together, and I hope I taught you enough to live on without me. I love you so much, Kabukimono.”

“...” You stared in silence after that little paragraph, before crumpling it and throwing it at the wall in frustration. “Nope! No! It’s not good enough for Kabukimono,” you sighed, giving up. “I’ll just stop doing this for now. I’m not dying anytime soon anyway, there’s no need to hurry up and write this anyway,” you grumbled to yourself before cleaning up the area and permanently discarding the balled-up papers. Your pouting expression was the last thing he saw before he removed himself from the sapling’s data.

Exiting the Iriminsul’s memories, he clutched his head, reeling from the onslaught of memories he visited again. This was far more than a cruel joke. And to see that last memory, to see you so lively and excited to spend your entire life with him? Having no idea what your fate would be in the end? It was wholly wicked, evil, and ghastly, not to mention how ironic it was that he ended up being the complete opposite of what you wished for. And it was all because of one person. A mad grin appeared on his face.

“Dottore… Dottore… haha… hahahaha!” The puppet wildly laughed, before it became a mixture of broken laughter and wheezing, restricted sobs. He ignored the prattling of the two people behind him and the calm voice of Nahida because it meant nothing now. He had been deceived this whole time, the Doctor forcing him to look at you as some kind of betrayer when in reality it was the farthest thing from the truth. He’s sorry. For once in Scaramouche’s life, he is so, so, sorry. You deserve better.

Scaramouche wonders what you would say if you could see him now. Would you be disappointed? Scared? Hate him? You’d be surprised for sure, at least. You probably wouldn’t recognize this coldhearted and distant puppet who was once so bright and cheerful. He was nothing like Kabukimono. Would you still love him, knowing that he was so different from the man you fell in love with?

But there’s no need to wonder about what-ifs. Such things were pointless and a waste of time, knowing that you weren’t ever coming back. At least, that was what he always thought. But now he has another solution.

You had always told him that you would never betray him. 

He wished he believed you. He wished you had another chance at life, a chance to be happy and live out all of your days in well-deserved peace, even if it meant he wasn’t there with you. And he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to try to make that happen.

And so the puppet erased himself from the world.

lesson 1. lesson 2. lesson 3. lesson 4. lesson 5. lesson 6. lesson 7. lesson 8. lesson 9. lesson 10. bonus lesson.

[hemmingsleclerc]

One last time pt2┃charles leclerc

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@is-just-a @charlesgirl16 @spookystitchery @leclercsluvs @itsjustkhaos @willowpains @magical-spit @falaihullo @emryb @ssararuffoni

ִֶָ 𖥔 ﾟ˖ ⊹ › ‹ ᵎ 𖧧. ⊹ ˖ ♡.˚˳១୨୧ ༘✰ ༘ ˚ ˚ ༘ ‧₊˚𖧧  ִֶָ 𖥔 ﾟ˖ ⊹ › ‹ ᵎ 𖧧. ⊹ ˖ ♡.˚˳១୨ִֶָ 𖥔 ﾟ˖ ⊹ › ‹

Y/N's hands shook as she wrote the message to Charles: "See you at our place by the old lighthouse in 20 minutes." She hit send before she could doubt herself and tossed the phone out of her reach. Her heart was pounding in her chest and her mind filled with thoughts of what she was about to do.

The old lighthouse had always been their place, a small hidden place where they escaped the pressures of their lives and were themselves without cameras or people around. As she drove there, memories flooded her: late-night talks, stargazing, and the countless times Charles had made her laugh when she felt like crying or vice versa.

When Y/N arrived she was pacing nervously, checking her phone every few seconds. Finally, she saw Charles' car stop and her heart began to beat even harder and she felt a chill run down her spine.

Charles came out and walked towards her nervously, his expression one of mere concern and confusion.

''Hey''

'Hey''

She took a deep breath, her thoughts confused and chaotic. “Charlie, I…” her voice broke and she looked away, gathering courage. "I need to tell you something"

Charles said softly, moving closer until he was a few inches away from her. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. You know it."

Y/N nodded and her eyes met his. "Well. Here it goes. The song I sang tonight is about you, I know you already knew that because it's been everywhere but I wanted to tell you myself. It's always been about you. All my songs have been about you. I've had a crush on you since we were kids and I was too scared to tell you because I thought you'd never feel the same. And seeing you with Elise just… broke my heart. But I had to tell you, even if it means losing you as a friend. I can't keep pretending anymore and I understand if you want to stop seeing me or talking to me I will understand."

Charles stared at her, his eyes wide with surprise. For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence lengthened, unbearable and heavy.

"Y/N, I…" he started, but she cut him off, her words coming out quickly.

"I know it's absurd because you don't feel the same and now I'm just saying a lot of things and making everything awkward and…"

Charles stepped forward, took her face in his hands and kissed her. It was a kiss filled with years of unexpressed emotions, longing and love. Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, but she quickly melted into his kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck as she passionately kissed him back, standing on her tiptoes.

When they finally broke apart, they were both breathless, their foreheads pressed against each other. "ma cherié," Charles whispered, his voice full of emotion and desire. "I've always loved you. I was too scared to ruin what we had. I thought you only saw me as a friend and I didn't want to lose you, I didn't want to lose us."

Tears welled in Y/N's eyes, but this time they were tears of joy. "Charlie, I've had a crush on you since we were 15. What the hell?"

Charles laughed through his tears and hugged her tightly. “I can't believe we've wasted so much time,” he said, his voice filled with a mix of relief and happiness as he placed a tender kiss on her forehead.

Y/N leaned back a little and looked at him with a smile. “Wait, what about Alex? “I can’t do this to her.”

Charles chuckled and shook his head. “Oh, Alex. We're not actually dating. We never were, apparently swe both like people of the same... type. It was all just a misunderstanding. She's just a friend and we thought it would be easier to let people think we were together instead of constantly explaining our friendship over and over again''

Y/N laughed, feeling lighter than she had in years.

A few weeks later, the Monaco Grand Prix weekend arrived and the paddock was full of life. Y/N and Charles had decided to keep their relationship private for a while, wanting to enjoy their new happiness without the public's attention. But as they walked hand in hand, their love was impossible to hide.

ynln has posted a story

caption: 🏎️❤️‍🔥

f1

Liked by f1_gossip, ynln_updates and 582,583 others

f1 Look who's here! Our favourite girl of the paddock!

username MY BABIES!

username YN 🥹💓💓

usermame chayn again I'm sobbing😭😭

f1

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f1 CHARLES LECLERC WINS IN MONACO🏆🤩

HE WINS AT HOME!!!

username THE WAY HE RAN CRYING TO YN I'M WEAK

username HE BROKE THE CURSE

username 😭😭😭😭😭

charles_leclerc

Liked by 3,685,298 others

charles_leclerc BEST DAY EVER THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!!!❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍

My very first win in home and finally able to call her mine ❤️🥲

username THE FUCKING HARD LUNCHING!?!?!?!

lewishamilton

schecoperez Bravo Charles!

arthur_leclerc Let's goooo

pierregalsy Bravo Champ!! Trop content pour toi!!!

username SUPPORTIVE BESTIES THAT'S WHAT WE LOVE

ynln Congrats my golden boy

ynln

Liked by charles_leclerc, pierregalsy and 1,593,294 others

ynln P1 IN MONACO!!! Tremendously proud of you Charlie, I know how much you have trained to get this wonderful achievement and I am truly captivated by your great determination and love! I love you from here to the moon my ferrari boy

pierregasly happy for both

charles_leclerc s'il te plaît, arrête mon amour, je suis sur le point de pleurer, je t'aime (please stop my love, I'm about to cry, I love you)

username My parents

username Right person, right time

Sorry if it's late in posting but I happen to graduate so yes! hope you like it🥲🤍

[the-californicationist]

he doesn’t disappoint

Wrote this fic as I was inspired by the challenge from @sky-is-the-limit that asked for Price getting fed up with hearing his hot neighbor have really terrible sex.

“I came to do what your sorry excuse of a boyfriend can’t.”

MDNI/18+

AO3 Version here

Four long stories above the people and the pigeons, she sat, legs on the railing of her amazingly small balcony, reading and writing. Always dressed in that huge jumper with the fraying collar, it swallowed her, covering her little spandex shorts that barely managed to keep her thick arse from slipping out of them, and she had her hair in the braid again. It was his favorite. He liked the ponytails, too, but the braid did something to him. When she plaited her hair and let that heavy rope hang limply over her shoulder, she became Repunzel, and he was Gallahad - or whatever muppet was meant to be at the bottom of her tower.

Captain Price knew that, the moment his fingers flipped the lock on his window, he’d disturb her peace. She’d startle, like a doe, and turn to smile at him. He lived for that turn. Every few nights, he’d catch her out here again, and he could make her turn to him. Make her smile at him. Make her laugh and talk with him, until she went to bed. But, that was the problem. Lately, her bed was filled with the one thing that made Price’s body fill with frustrated rage: The Boyfriend.

The Boyfriend was such a typical Yank, it made Price’s eyes roll back in his head. From the boat shoes to the bad fade haircut, the lad looked like an Abercrombie advert had escaped from one of those oversized shopping bags and landed in her apartment. He was small, first of all, despite the gym-made muscles. And he was as smooth as an otter, fully hairless. Price shuddered back to the memory of watching him try to put up the fire escape ladder shirtless, struggling to lift it with those tiny hands of his, making a disgusted face at the dirt on his palms afterward, wiping it on her blanket without her seeing him. Disgusting little gremlin.

She kept giving this wanker chance after chance to figure it out in the bedroom, and Price had heard just about enough of it, and his gut twisted in his belly knowing he’d have to hear it again tonight. He knew The Boyfriend was here because she was doing her work outside. The Boyfriend insisted on playing his Battle Zone videogames on full volume, bothering her, and complaining like a child if she asked him to put on his headphones. Price enjoyed imagining how quickly he’d expire on a real battlefield. That little prick could scream all the obscenities he wanted but he’d be dead in milliseconds against a man like Price.

His darling didn’t know about that, though. She knew he was in the military, but she didn’t know that he was the leader of the deadliest special forces team in the world. He imagined explaining it to her, pictured the fear flooding her face, confusion and shock hanging out of her open mouth. No. He couldn’t tell her about himself. Usually, when they talked together on the balcony, he would smoke long, densely-packed cigars and sip his whisky while she confessed the sins of her day to him. She told him about grad school, about her poetry, maybe showing him a sample or two. It was beautiful. When she was upset, she’d even tap on his window to see if he was home, sometimes tearful, asking for advice on how to handle something The Boyfriend had done. On really bad nights, she’d lean in and hug him, crying on his enormous shoulder, telling him what a good friend he was for listening to her. She smelled like cinnamon and vanilla, and her warmth made his cock swell with furious need.

As the night dragged on, The Boyfriend would eventually remember her and call her inside. He’d croon all sorts of things to her. His little whining “come on, baby” and pathetic “I just really need you to” quips were the opening lines to the worst song on Earth. He’d then spend the next five to ten minutes whimpering away on top of her, the headboard slamming into Price’s wall without rhythm. If the gorgeous woman suffering beneath him ever had the audacity to actually be enjoying his attempt, he’d shush her, shaming her for making noises, telling her “the neighbors don’t need to hear that shit.” Meanwhile, The Neighbor would be plotting his slow, painful death.

The banging started, and Price wanted to burst through the wall and stop this trainwreck from happening to her again. Eventually, a short time after it had begun, the banging stopped. Then, an even shorter time after that, the jingle of keys and the “I have an early day tomorrow” and “I have to go” were the outro to The Boyfriend’s opus.

Enough was enough. Before he even knew what he was doing, Price had his hand, raised in a fist, knocking on her apartment door. 23B. Shadow in the peephole. The click and clatter of a lock chain.

“Oh! John, it’s you. Is everything okay?” Her voice was low and smooth. Her cheeks were flushed. She was standing in her doorway, wearing those shorts, that jumper, still full of her need.

“No,” was all he could manage as he looked at her, his blue eyes blown, mad with desire.

“Oh, okay. Come in, I’ll make us some of that delicious tea you bought me. What are you doing here?”

Price followed her inside, silently relocking the portal, stalking her into the tiny kitchen, a mirror to his own. He came up behind her as she was looking in her cupboard for their mugs. When he put his hands on her hips, she froze, startled, eyeing him over her shoulder. His voice was just above a whisper, gravelly and accented, and he said,

“I came to do what your sorry excuse of a boyfriend can’t.”

She was on her tiptoes, reaching for the cups, but as she registered what he said, she slowly lowered herself back down to the tile of her floor, turning to face her neighbor with a look of shock on her face.

“What?”

Price played with the end of her braid, turning the end of it over in his hand, wrapping it up along his knuckles like a rope. He snaked the other hand up underneath her sweatshirt, fingers lingering on her warm belly, searching for the smooth swell of her breast. He told her, snarling,

“If I have to hear him continue to use you like a warm fucking towel, leaving you wanting, I will lose my bloody mind. Call him. Tell him he’s done.”

“You could hear us?” She flushed quickly at that, recalling all of the times she’d been punished for her noises.

“And I always hear you afterwards, after he leaves, making up for his…shortcomings. Bit sad, innit? Needing to take care of yourself when he should be the one looking after you. Time for someone new. Get your phone, love.”

It took her a moment to register what he was suggesting, but she was fed up, too. She smiled at his comment, and she reached for her phone on the countertop.

“Put it on speaker, sweetheart,” he commanded her. She obeyed.

One ring.

Two rings.

“Uh, what do you want?” The Boyfriend answered.

“Hey, Dick,” Price snarled, “We got some bad news, lad.”

“I’m breaking up with you, Richard,” she spoke into the phone very clearly, wrapping her free hand around Price’s huge bicep, not able to cover even half of its circumference, exploring him as he fondled her, one fist still holding her plait cruelly.

“What? Why? Who is that?”

“Why?” She scoffed, “Because every time I’ve come, for as long as we’ve been together, has been when you’re not here.”

“Are you serious? Fuck you, bitch. You’re just a -”

“Tha’s enough, Dick,” Price barked into the phone, “Look, no worries, mate. I’ll take it from here.”

Click. Price hung up her phone and turned it off, tossing it back across the counter. It made a loud, plasticky bang as it fell. He pressed his heavy erection against her body, crushing her hips with his, and moved his hand back under her jumper, plucking at her nipple like a soft petal, pinching it to make it stand at attention, watching her watch him.

“John, you… you never said anything,” she looked up into his eyes, begging him to tell her the truth he’d kept locked away for months.

“This isn’t even the half of it, girl,” he started to kiss her neck, sucking at her skin, his body writhing on top of hers, mimicking actions it would soon employ once he could get her out of her clothes, “I’ve wanted you for so. Fucking. Long.”

She moaned at the way he was kissing her throat with his bearded mouth, licking her with his long tongue. She cradled his furry cheek in her hand, enjoying the feel of its coarse hairs, whispering to him,

“When he leaves, you’re the one I picture. In my head.”

She might as well have lit a bomb. That was all he needed to hear.

He was strong enough to hoist her up onto the counter with one of his arms, wrapping it around her waist and setting her on the edge, her thighs spread wide to accommodate his huge body in between them. He tugged on her braid, using it to expose her smooth throat. She gasped, reaching out to steady herself.

The captain stood over her, looming like a dark beast, warning her in his quiet, steady voice,

“If I ever, and I mean ever, hear that little prick banging your headboard on my wall again, it’ll be his last day above ground. Am I crystal clear, love?”

“Yes,” she whispered back, a little uncertain how serious he was.

“Good girl.”

Price let go of her hair and scooped her off of the counter, carrying her with her legs locked behind him, through the small flat, and crashed to the bed where she’d just been disappointed. He vowed to her, silently, that he would do anything but disappoint.

Clothes started coming off in peeled layers; shirts, bras, pants, underwear - everything was shucked away like the rind of a melon, leaving only the soft, sticky inside, ripe and ready to be devoured. Price made his way down her body, biting and sucking whenever he wanted to do so, leaving a trail of teeth marks behind. Eventually, he could feel the heat of her pussy against his cheek, and it made him shudder.

He had pulled her phone into his pocket, and now he wanted to twist the knife. He called The Boyfriend and sent his own number straight to voicemail, preparing to leave a delicious message.

As he began to eat her juices, sucking them off her folds like the drippings from a popsicle, he started to hear little mewlings, soft and sweet, but very reserved. He glanced up at the rest of his meal, wondering why she was holding back. Then, he remembered The Boyfriend’s number one rule.

“Look at me,” Price ordered from beneath her thighs.

She hesitated, trying to hide her shame, putting her face in her hands, breathing heavy and ragged.

He reached both hands up to grab her ribs, coming up and out from his position to let her get a better look at him.

“Look at me, love.” It was a softer, lower tone, and she came out of hiding to obey him. He continued to command her, gently, “I want to hear your pleasure, sweetness. The louder you get, the harder I get. I hope the whole bloody city hears you tonight.”

“Are you sure? You like it?” Fuck if he wasn’t about to hunt that man down and execute him, authority or not.

“God, yes, love. Let me make you scream.”

This voicemail was going to be incredible.

He returned to his duty post between her legs, excited to start his work anew. This time, as his tongue worked her open, fucking liquidly in and out of her pink hole, swirling up around her clit, and exploring every hidden gem between them, he listened to her keening. It was soft at first, but then, when he began to stretch her, pushing down with his two, rough fingers, thrusting them slowly in and out, she started to come. Her cries were incredible. She was screaming for him to fuck her, to take her, to do anything to her, and he loved it.

Crawling back over her, Price used his heavy cockhead to paint drooling precome all over her slick slit, soaking himself so he could more easily fit himself into her core. He didn’t want to hurt her, and other lovers had trained him to know that his was big enough to be a weapon.

“That’s my good girl. Do you feel good, you sweet little thing? You’re a fucking dream. Tell me that you’re ready for this cock in you. I wanna hear you say it. Tell me, love.”

She was shaking from her orgasm, looking at him, bewildered, and she rushed the words out of her mouth like fire,

“I need it, please. John, I need you to fuck me. Fuck me, please, John. Put your cock in me,” and, like magic, Price obliged. Just as good at taking orders as he was at giving them.

Feeding his length inside of her wasn’t the issue, it was the fact that she was coming while he tried to do it. Price had a hand steadily working her clit, wetly pressing it where she needed it, and she was clenching against him so tightly, like a wet, molten fist, that it nearly pushed him out of her. He grabbed her body, looping his enormous arm behind her back, and shoved her down, locking her against his hips, deliciously impaled.

Her face was twisted into the most beautiful kind of agony, and as she came down from her high, he began to move in her. After she bloomed around his cock, opening like a flower, he was able to fuck into her even deeper, groaning with each of his thrusts. She gasped,

“Oh, God. John, you’re so good. You’re not done yet?”

He laughed, out loud and brazenly, holding her tighter,

“Oh, lovely girl, no. No,” he smiled down at his pretty little neighbor, “Those days are gone. I’m going to be inside of you all fucking night.”