#i didn't know you could sit in the window

[ashwhowrites]

omg yay requests are open! Could you do smth with the concept of Eddie with a reader that is very affectionate with everyone but him, and when he finally confronts her about it, confused, and honestly a bit hurt, she’s forced to reveal her crush on him?

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting ❤️

Why am I different?

Eddie was used to being treated differently. It happened all his life and he doesn't think it'll ever stop. He found a good group of friends who treated him like a human.

A new friend was introduced to the gang and Eddie couldn't get a good read on her. She didn't seem shy, very affectionate with everyone. Well everyone except Eddie.

Whenever she arrives somewhere, she greets everyone with a hug. Eddie only got a wave and a small smile. She sat close to others during movie nights, but whenever Eddie sat next to her she had so much space between them.

He was positive she didn't like him or that his rough exterior deserved judgment in her eyes. He was fine if she didn't like him, but he wasn't fine with being ignored and treated differently when he did nothing wrong.

He didn't know that it was the complete opposite. She saw him for the first time and swore she had never seen a man that beautiful. His skin looked soft and his face was flawless. He made her nervous and she wasn't sure how to react around him. So she tended to freeze around him, hoping if she didn't move a muscle he wouldn't notice the crush she had on him.

She would love to give him a hug, but then she's worried she wouldn't ever want to let go. To feel his chest against hers and arms wrapped around her, she'd probably stop breathing. She couldn't give him a kiss on the cheek like the others, she'd lose control and want to kiss his pink lips. She couldn't sit next to him without craving to crawl in his lap and feel his body heat for hours. She tried her best to talk to him but even then she could only get out a few words.

~~~

"Sorry, I'm late," Eddie apologized as he welcomed himself into Steve's place.

"No worries, it hasn't started yet," Steve said as commercials played on the television. Eddie scanned the room and sighed to himself when the only open spot was next to Y/N. He gave her a small smile and took the open spot. Her body tensing up didn't go unnoticed.

Y/N chewed on her lip nervously as Eddie's scent filled the room. Her mind was racing as she tried to distract her body from the fact that Eddie was only inches away from her.

She made sure she was as far to the one side of the couch as she could. Afraid if she touched him electricity would spark.

Eddie felt a small sting as he felt her body scoot away but he kept his eyes on the screen.

~~~

Y/N greeted the older gang with a hug and kisses on the cheek, working through the group. Eddie stood off by himself, watching as she embraced everyone but him.

"Hi Eddie," she said with a small smile, a nod in his direction.

"Hi," he said flatly. His tone caused her eyes to fall away instantly, but he didn't feel bad.

"Let's get this show on the road!" Robin called as she threw herself in Steve's passenger seat. Today, Robin, Steve, Nancy, Eddie, and Y/N planned a trip to the beach, and Y/N felt terrified. Not only would she have to be in a swimsuit in front of Eddie but he'd be shirtless in front of her. She made sure to pack sunglasses so if she found herself staring, it wouldn't be noticeable.

Eddie and Nancy slid in the car, leaving Y/N. She gulped as she noticed the middle seat was the only free spot.

"You don't mind sitting in the middle right?" Nancy asked, a smirk on her face. She knew all about the crush on Eddie and she enjoyed making Y/N's life hell.

"Oh... uh," her eyes looked over at Eddie, "yeah that's fine."

Eddie scoffed as he got out of the car, allowing her to move past him. Once she was squeezed in the middle, she let out a deep breath, glaring at Nancy. Eddie noticed the glare, his feelings a little hurt as he looked out the window.

The entire car ride Y/N was squeezed into Nancy's side, practically on her lap. Eddie wished it didn't bother him, but he thought Y/N was attractive, and he liked the personality she showed with her friends. He wished she would be like that with him, he wished she would give him a chance.

Once they arrived, Eddie fled from the car, stepping aside to smoke a much-needed cigarette.

"I think it bothers him that you ignore him," Nancy said as she watched him stand to the side.

"I don't know how to be normal around him!" Y/N whined, "he makes me nervous."

"Let's just try, small steps."

~

Y/N was soaking in the sun, keeping her eyes shut so she didn't constantly look at Eddie. Luckily, he was busy with Steve, so she had time to settle her thoughts.

She groaned when the sun went behind a cloud, ruining her tan. She opened her eyes, startled to see Eddie standing over her. She gulped as his frizzy hair shines in the sun, and how his sunglasses fit his nose perfectly. He stood shirtless, the sun beginning to soak into his pasty skin.

"We need to talk," he said, not letting her answer as he took a seat right next to her in the sand. His elbows dug into the hot sand as he held his body up, then his head turned to her.

Y/N was frozen, staring ahead as the waves brushed the shore.

"Look at me," he hissed, "and I won't tell you again."

She bit her lip as she ignored how hot her body was getting from his words. She turned her head, locking eyes with him through their sunglasses.

"Do you have a problem with me?"

Y/N shook her head immediately, "no" her voice was soft and shy.

"Then what's your deal?"

"Nothing," Y/N said, "I promise."

"Then why do you treat me differently? I get that we might be very two different people but you are judging me without getting to know me. And that bothers me."

Y/N had to give him credit for calling her out. He dealt with it for a while. She took a deep breath, fighting off the wave of nausea.

"I'm not judging you, and I never judged you. I have a crush on you," she admitted embarrassed, "you make me very nervous and I was scared. I'm sorry that I hurt your feelings." She watched his face for a reaction, holding her breath.

Then he began to smile. "You have a crush on me?"

She rolled her eyes at his cheeky smile and teasing tone. "Don't be an ass."

Eddie apologized, scooting closer. He pushed his sunglasses up into his hair, looking at her. She matched him, taking off her glasses as she nervously looked into his eyes.

"I think you're pretty and I'd love to get to know you better," his words made her heart race. "How about a date?"

She couldn't believe it. Eddie Munson asked her on a date.

"I'd love that."

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxthx @ineedmentalhelp123 @emxxblog

[heechwe]

not even sometimes | 𝐜𝐬

୨୧ pairing: choi san x fem!reader ୨୧ word count: 5k ୨୧ genre: fluff, sprinkles of angst, smut ୨୧ tags: neighbor to lovers au, healthy communication for the win, switch!san, dirty talk, pet names, heavy petting, fingering, nipple play, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, squirting, creampie ୨୧ synopsis: You've never been good at planning for the unexpected, much less a new neighbor. But the man in question may just love that about you, among other things you didn't see in yourself to begin with. ⟢ AUTHOR'S NOTE: This fic is a remaster of an old fic I wrote years ago for a member of NCT, the original title being "Where We Begin." Seeing as I am not following that group anymore and I thought it'd be fun to polish up some old work, what the hell. Thank you to my betas for reading this one, @prkhaven @lovetaroandtaemin @tinycatharsis @jjunbug @innocygnet, I love you lots. Title inspiration from "Sometimes" by Ariana Grande!

Some people know the instant something begins, the start of something new brimming with possibilities palpable within the surrounding air. 

For you, it’s not that simple. 

It seems some things come and go in your life without warning or realization. You’ve fought enough for things to stay or leave for so many years that now it’s almost a godsend to lack that kind of perception. Whether it be for a new job opportunity, an unexpected act of kindness, or a person, it’s all the same. Beginnings can be as subtle as a wisp of wind through your window, or as abrasive as thunderclaps that rattle an entire room. Regardless, you’ve not caught on.

Lucky for you, Choi San isn’t subtle. With a body like his, how could he be?

The first time San greets you, he’s carrying an ottoman on his shoulder and a football in his hand. The early Saturday morning permeates through the hallway window, emphasizing his stark black hair and encroaching size, but he’s so beautifully smiling you felt nothing but warmth for the man in front of you. Across from your apartment sits his door halfway open, giving you ample opportunity to notice the manila moving boxes crowding the space of his new home.

The place had been empty for almost a month before San, the pain of Jeongin saying goodbye fresh every time you came home. The kid was a hilarious neighbor and a great friend, and while he didn’t leave your life, watching him go after three years left a noticeable pang of sadness. Having a new neighbor so soon felt foreign, unwelcome. But once San drops the ottoman carefully onto the small span of tile between your apartments and extends a hand, you know you can get used to the change if the new neighbor in question is this open, welcoming, and drop-dead gorgeous.

You give San your name with a smile, a soft yet large hand enveloping your smaller one. “You’ll love it here. I’ve been here for almost five years, never a problem.”

“That’s perfect. I’ve been couch-surfing for two months, so anything is better than my friends’ smelly socks and booty calls.”

You giggle, the sound reverberating off the highway walls. It almost makes you forget your choice of clothing, the realization suddenly hitting you.

You love your duck-patterned pajama bottoms and tattered college sweatshirt, but the clothing isn’t exactly the best outfit to meet new people in. Then again, nobody dresses up to run downstairs and get their weekly mail anyway, even if there’s a chance of running into someone as handsome as your new neighbor. “Sorry I’m not that presentable. I didn’t know you’d be coming today.”

“It’s no problem. I should’ve moved in yesterday, but I had an emergency. Well, if you could call a friend needing a three-page recipe an emergency.” San grins and shrugs, twirling the ball between his hands.

You giggle, pointing a finger towards the football. “So, you play sports and cook?”

“Not really, just a parting gift from my friend Woo for the recipe I owed him. I guess it’s also a housewarming gift‌, considering.”

You nod slowly and begin your trek down the hallway and to the mailroom, remembering your initial goal when you were leaving ten minutes ago. “Well, San, if you need help unpacking, just give me a knock!”

“I definitely will!” San waves goodbye and offers you the widest smile you’ve seen yet, saccharine in a way you didn’t realize you needed so early in the morning. He enters his new apartment without another turn of his head, while you wonder if this is the moment of realization the guy across the hall will be more than a stranger. Perhaps even a welcome addition to your life.

You open up your door a day later to find San with an inquisitive pout, replacing the mesmerizing smile he left you with. His hands respectively hold a large takeout bag and a tray of two drinks, and you guess what he’s after before he says the words. 

“Don’t tell me,” you say. “You need help unboxing.”

“Yes and no.”

“Oh?” You ask, partially shocked.

“So, I know you probably offered to help me unpack since I have the ‘new neighbor’ card. Which is great, since I actually do need help today. But, it would be rude to not offer food for your services, so it can be part moving part…treating a cute girl to lunch.” San tips the bag up with a grin, making you chuckle. “What do you say, neighbor?

As he waits for your answer, you discover Choi San is already too sweet to say no to. He asks so earnestly, and he’s feeding you, doing more than most of your exes ever did. The response easily slips off of your tongue. “That sounds great. Lemme just get my keys.” Following him into his apartment, you try to calm the staccato of your heart to a normal pace.

Your new neighbor truly has no shame as the two of you open all of his remaining boxes together, San confessing the origins of certain items you take out with a questioning, raised eyebrow. While he folds his clothes and sets them aside to move to his bedroom later, you tell him about your degree and how you can’t wait for the spring semester to end, your last step towards graduating in the summer.

You snap silly photos of him and take a few together to capture the moment; he ruffles your hair in a few and makes the resulting photos blurry, but you don’t mind. When you’re not unboxing and discussing your comprehensive histories, you eat pineapple fried rice and dumpling soup from the takeout containers and sip flat sodas you don’t bother replacing. The clear attachment you’ve already developed with San is worth drinking a watered-down soda.

“What do you do in your free time?” you ask before downing what’s left in your can.

“I work with my friends in a small studio downtown. It’s not much, but we love it and it helps pay for this.” He gestures to the apartment with dramatic grandeur, almost knocking over his drink. “That’s actually why I’ve been moving most of this by myself. Before you helped, I mean. There’s this production issue we glossed over, and my buddy Mingi wants it smoothed out before the song’s released.”

“Gotta love the  music life.” You sigh. “The arts are tough.”

“Yeah, I do love it. I don’t know where I’d be without it, to tell you the truth.” San chuckles, the sound rumbling in his throat.

You pat his shoulder with your hand. “I’m sure you’re doing great. You seem like a person who can find fun in anything. With your work, I know your friends need that.”

“Thanks,” he replies. San dips a hand through his hair, hoping to conceal his red face alongside his aggressively beating heart. “I bet you’re someone who keeps a lot of people calm and…I don’t know, grounded? You just give off this vibe like you know what you’re doing.”

You laugh again, pressing your empty soda can to your chest. “You’re probably the first person that’s ever thought about me that way.” Your friends and family often sing their praises for you, but what would get San’s compliment laughed out of any room is the fact he thinks you have a consciously prepared bone in your body.

You can barely give your best friends proper preparation for outfit choices, much less prepare for bigger life events. It’s what your exes have harped on for ages, your impulsiveness and second-nature to lead with your heart rather than your head, your ultimate downfall. How did anyone, especially yourself, expect you to go against habit and commit to anything? If there was an option to have someone spell it out for you, you would choose that in a heartbeat. To this day, sometimes it feels like you stumble around for answers, only doing things halfway and never with full intention.

You know these things about yourself like the back of your hand.. Yet, you can’t contain the flutter in your heart from San being so sure of you already. It may just be the takeout, the fullness of his stomach making his brain fuzzy, but you don’t care. You appreciate it regardless.

“That’s a good thing, though,” you mumble, his stare tickling the edges of your skin.

“Well, I’m flattered.” He winks at you, the gesture only solidifying every positive thought you have about him. He opens another box and removes the bubble wrap inside, and in that moment, you believe a piece of your heart silently belongs between the creases of his smile.

By the time you finish, the sun is setting, and you’re sitting next to San with your backs drooping against his couch. You rub your belly in slow, tiny circles, full from the food and copious amount of snacks you munched on while moving the smaller trinkets and furniture.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve known the pretzels and gummy worms would make you sick.” He pouts, staring down at your slumped body.

“No, it’s okay. Just another minute and I’ll be out of your hair.”

“You’re not in my hair. It’s too fantastic to be disturbed like that..” His confidence can be seen from space, you think as the corners of your lips rise. Without warning, San sets his head in your lap as his eyelashes flutter to a close. He’s burly at first glance, but you realize as he snuggles into your body how you fit together perfectly in this way. “I mean it. I’ve had a lot of fun today.”

Instinctively, you swipe one hand through his bangs, and he takes your fingers between his own. “We just met, but it’s like you make things slow down. I’m not running around the place like an idiot or saying the wrong things for the first time. Does that make sense?”

You close your eyes too, letting the words rumble around in your head. Responding to them with the peace within your smile and a squeeze of your hand, you know he’s smiling too without having to look down at him. “It does.”

In an array of textbooks, highlighters, and article clippings, San swipes through the words with a blue pen to mark important information for later. While it’s adorable watching him as he works, he has little to no foresight on the weekly topic in your Greek literature course.

Chan and Jisung, your study partners, left hours ago, but you stayed stuck with a pile of additional reading your professor dumped on you, including the play you still had to read. 

The night seemed to only be beginning for you, and you could only give your friends a sad smile as you walked them out of your apartment. With perfect timing, San popped his head out with a smirk, his concern giving way when he noticed the defeat in your posture.

“Can I help?” were the first words out of his mouth as you were on the verge of tears, your mountain of a neighbor suddenly becoming your shining light through the storm of academic writing and assignments.

He definitely isn’t helping in the way he imagined, but watching his eyebrows furrow in concentration and catching the delight on his face when he marks the “right” sentence makes the hours feel less tedious.

“I mean, why does Euripides have to be such a tragic writer? There’s nothing wrong with writing cheerful things now and then,” San says as he drops the pen onto the paper. Rolling closer to your spot on your bedroom floor, he pouts and puts his hands underneath his chin.

“Well, San, since he wrote tragic Greek plays, I think he was just creating what he knew. Like Sophocles, he just kept his daily life in mind when he was writing.” You smile to yourself, skimming the lines of the last act within your textbook.

“Excuse me, Smarty. I’ll just nap while you do your own notes, then.” He leans against your thigh, the back of his head mushed into the fabric of your shorts.

You scoff. “I just read the materials and introduction! You give me too much credit.”

One of his eyes pops open, followed by the crossing of his arms. “You still know things! Sometimes, you really don’t see that. And I’ve been your neighbor for what, a few weeks now? Give yourself more credit, angel.”

You refuse to acknowledge the pet name, knowing he’ll sense the change in your body if you do. Going for a lighthearted response, you stick your tongue out in his direction. “Trust me, you give enough credit to yourself for the both of us.”

San says your name and sits up, mirroring your crossed-legged position. “Maybe I do, but only because I know how it feels to not give yourself the self-assurance you deserve.”

You gape in mock surprise. “Choi San, not sure of himself? I never would have guessed.”

“Yes, I’m not flawless.” He laughs and knocks his fist softly into your shoulder. “When I was younger, sometimes people thought it was all an act, me being so ‘full’ of myself, all the time. In a way, it was just to pretend that there weren’t times when I didn’t feel confident in what I could do and if I could do it. It still happens, but not as much as before.”

“That’s hard to believe.” You drop your head, staring at your hands in your lap.

He taps his fingers under your chin. “It’s true. Some days, it can be so difficult to believe you’re capable. But you are, in so many ways. Anyone who loves you could see that tenfold. But in the end, the person who needs to see that first is you. Nobody else.”

You wipe away the tears that are  prepared to stream down your face, knowing it is ridiculous to cry at the comforting advice San offers. But he says all the right things every time you need them and every time you come across all the hidden fears and self-critiques you harbor.

“Are you crying,” he asks, lips curling into a frown. He presses a hand to your cheek, prepared to catch any tears before they fall, but you shake your head softly.

“I’m not sad, I promise. I just—I meant it. You give me more credit than I ever give myself, and I know it’s a bad habit, but it feels good having someone else notice…how hard it can be, even if I’m still trying.”

His thumb rubs back and forth across the apple of your cheek, sentiment and patience etched into expression. “Someone has to, don’t they?”

Staring into his eyes, you notice how much they shine, even in the dim lighting of your desk lamp. You chastise yourself for never noticing how brown and bright they were before. With a tiny vow, you promise to admire them for as long as you can, whether out loud or in silence. As long as San feels admired in the way he always should be.

The twinkle in his irises reflects in his close-lipped smile. You don’t stop to think as you lean in to kiss the sharp line of his cheek, knowing you need him as much as you need his words. He parts his mouth in shock, the hand on your cheek still. “Thank you, Sannie.”

When you rest your head on your pillow to sleep hours later, you still feel the shape of him on your lips and the fondness of his stare on your skin.

A knock on your door one Sunday afternoon reveals San with one of his hands cut up, a few scrapes visibly bleeding.

“Shit,” you curse, inspecting the cuts with your hands. He winces when you touch a deeper one, a hiss whistling through his teeth. “I’m sorry. What happened?”

“I dropped some glass cups. I didn’t know what happened to my broom, so I thought picking it up would be fine if I was careful,” he mumbles, obviously embarrassed about the mishap.

You press a hand to his shoulder as a signal for him to step inside your apartment. He does, observing the living room as you run to get supplies from your bathroom. The fuzzy, polka dot blanket draped across your even fuzzier, gray couch and the rerun of some 90s comedy makes him smile to himself. How can someone be so kind and cute? San thinks to himself.

You’ve both hung out many times since you helped him unpack, especially in your bedroom, but he’s never noticed the smaller things in your place. Seeing the ins and outs of your life in the decor, the few dishes in your sink, family photos by the door, and pens left on the counter, he doesn’t feel like he’s intruding. Rather, he’s noticing the pieces of you and storing them away to remember later. That’s how the ache inside his chest would describe it. For now, at least.

“I have band-aids, ointment, and gauze,” you note the supplies in your hand as you make it back to him. You’re no stranger to mishaps like accidental bruises and bumps, so coming as prepared as possible for this one facet of everyday life is doable, even for you. “Sit down, Sannie.”

When you guide both of you to the couch, you drape the blanket across his lap and pause the show on your television. You hold up the first-aid kit, grabbing his attention and smiling behind the box. “Ready to be patched up?”

“Readier than ready.”

The minutes pass quietly as San watches the rest of the episode, and you treat his smaller cuts with small circular band-aids. You wrap the deeper gashes up with pale gauze, rubbing some cream on the wounds to start the healing process. As you grab more of the ointment from the tin, you realize San being hurt in any capacity is painful, unbearable even, for you as well as him. While you have more than an inkling of what that means, you push it out of your mind to focus on your table-side healing.

When he’s patched up, you flick his wrist. “You’re good to go, sir.”

He grins in response. “You’re the best. Thank you.”

“It’s nothing. That’s what neighbors are for right?” The word feels too simple to describe San and what he means to you.

“Definitely,” he murmurs. Your faces rest less than a foot apart from each other, knees slightly touching. 

In any instance, you’d have backed away quickly and given your new friend and neighbor a proper send-off back to his apartment. However, he’s so warm, inviting, here. It has to be ridiculous to feel so safe in his presence this soon, but San is the least ridiculous person you know. 

He can be vain, more confident in himself than the average person is, and satisfied with his own absurdity. Maybe those things turn some people off, but they’re only a few things that you adore about him, the exterior pieces to a beautiful interior. And adore you do, maybe too much and too fast in the month that you’ve known him. But if someone calls you senseless for that, then senseless is what you are.

When you kiss his lips, pressing your mouth firmly to his, you feel senseless. All of your feelings rotate around him, none of your own to pull from as you want nothing but him to spread inside of you. You keen when he groans into your mouth, press deeper into him as his hands clench your waist, and mewl as he pushes his song into your mouth.

“Your hand,” you call out as he tries pushing his injured fingers down your pants.

“Fuck my hand,” San says with a gasp, tugging at the material until your shorts come off. “Well, I want you to fuck it anyway.”

You whimper at his salacious words, grinding your hips down into his lap and awaiting hand. He lets out his own sounds of pleasure at the wetness pooling in your underwear, and he slips the material to the side to truly have your skin against his, the callous on his fingertips rubbing against your clit beautifully.

With your mouth falling open from the cascading waves of pleasure that have barely started, you feel you could float away if it weren’t for San’s index and middle finger suddenly buried inside of you. He whispers dirty things into your ear, your face fighting a blush despite the position you’re both in. “You’re gorgeous, you know that? So perfect for me when you’re fucked out like this.”

He adds a third finger, completely lost in your expression as you ride his hand with abandon. You continue to rut your body into him, and all he can focus on is both your pleasure and the growing erection in his pants. His body pulses with need, but he knows it’s not about him right now.

It’s about you, and he wants you to recognize how much your pleasure matters to him.

“San, I’m gonna—” You press both palms to either side of his neck, moving faster to chase the high that’s within your reach. The taste of it almost hits the center of your tongue, and you want to feel it after all this time you’ve been waiting. For him, for the two of you, for something good.

“It’s okay, don’t fight it.” He kisses your cheek, looking up at you with only adoration and patience in his eyes. “Let go, beautiful. Come with my fingers inside of you.”

Your back arches and your chest presses into San’s biceps when you finally feel your release in its full glory. Your body leaks your essence down his hand and onto your remaining clothes. You would feel like a mess in any other circumstance, but right now, you don’t care.

All you want to do is make San feel as good as he’s made you feel.

You kiss him twice more before pulling him into your bedroom. You push him onto your bed and make quick work of removing his clothes, unzipping his jeans until both that article of clothing and his underwear come off.

The head of his dick is red and leaking with pre-cum, and you fight the urge to take him into your mouth completely and finish the encounter off that way. You want to make it worth both of your whiles.

You stroke his cock a handful of times to moisten the surface, and he ruts into your hand with broken groans. “Please don’t tease me,” San begs, reaching his hands out to hold you by the hips.

“I’m not, Sannie, I promise. Just want to get you nice and ready first.” You may not be confident in a lot of arenas of your life, but you know you’re good at this, and you’re going to make a show of it.

You sink down onto San’s cock easily. Despite the stretch of his wide girth filling every space of you, you take it all with a slack jaw and a deep moan emulating from your chest. It’s been a minute since you’ve had someone of his size inside of you, but you adjust with a few minutes of doing nothing but sitting on top of him.

“Are you gonna—” You cut San’s words short by slamming down on him particularly hard, going from doing nothing to giving him everything in a matter of seconds. You press your nails into his chest as you ride him, your pace fast and unrelenting. He looks up at you through his lashes with lust-blown irises. His hands on your hips threaten to bruise your skin, and in truth, you wouldn’t mind if they did. You want him to mark you up, pin you down, make him yours. You’ve never been more sure of anything before.

Without warning, San switches positions, one large hand pinning you down as the other wraps your legs tighter around his waist. “No more playing. Hold on tight, doll.”

He sets a pace much harsher than yours, practically leaving you completely before slamming completely inside with every thrust. It’s deep in every sense of the word, and you bite into your fist to hold back how loud you’re becoming. 

San takes that fist into his palm, splaying out your fingers to interlace with his. “Let me hear all of it. Don’t fight it, baby.” He takes one of your breasts into his mouth, lavishing your nipple in gentle nips and kitten licks.

You decide all of your resounding sounds matter little to you, your other neighbors and their peaceful Sunday be damned. If he wants you to be loud, you’ll be as loud as possible, especially when his hand finds your clit to rub in perfect little figure eights.

Your vocal chords are tattered and uneven by the time your second orgasm comes, your body slack and throat hoarse from the overload of pleasure. You squeeze him tighter despite your oversensitive nerves, ready for him to fall off the same precipice you lept past with no issue.

San buries his face into your neck as he comes, his breath and beautiful groans hitting your ear as his release fills you with warmth. He kisses one of your temples as he pulls out, letting small remnants of the mixture of your releases trickle out of you and onto your bed. It all carries the same weight of importance, anyway. All that matters to you is his warm arms lulling you into comfort you’ve been without for longer than you realized.

The afternoon sky bleeds into night, and you spend all those hours in San’s arms, saying nothing yet everything in that span of time. He only rubs your back and kisses your lips every so often, letting you slip in and out of sleep.

Once you’ve been awake for longer than ten minutes, San breaks the silence by saying, “So, I’m not the best cook, but you deserve some sort of meal after all of this.” He kisses your neck before focusing his gaze back on you. “And I may or may not be collecting my repayment after helping you with those articles right now so you say yes.” He grins again, charming and electrifying. “What do you say?”

“We just had sex and you think I’ll say no to that?” you ask with a giggle. 

“I’m just making sure!”

You’ve never been observant. Some cues go past your head entirely, and you know this. But San’s skin, so comfortably close to yours, sends the gentlest calm across yours like the familiar prickles of gooseflesh. You can see him and read his obvious intentions, and you know now you’re ready to welcome the start of something new with open arms. There’s no right or wrong to fear, no choice to be any less certain about. It’s easy to feel that way when sure of him when he looks at you the way he does? “I’d love to have a meal with you, San.”

Two months pass, and as San’s hand draws circles into the divot of your hip, you remember that tender stillness you felt after you first met, the first time you hung out together in what San called “your first not-first date” which you lovingly shoved him for, the first night you spent together, and all the dates that followed. Most important, that stillness never disappeared or faded into the background. Not since the first time you saw him, not when he told you it was more than fine to leave most of your stuff at his place (especially your polka dot blanket), and not when he told you he loved you hours ago.

“What are you thinking about?” San pulls you from your thoughts with his question, his whisper raspy. He kisses your bare shoulder, the soft press of his lips warming you to the bone.

“You.”

“Oh? Only good things I hope.” He smirks, trailing his kisses up to your neck. “Or bad, I prefer both.” You giggle at the few swipes of his tongue on the hollow of your throat, but you tug on the ends of his hair to pull his attention back to your face.

“The best things. How I still get excited every time I see you, and how easy it is to make you smile. How you make me feel as though I can do anything, because I have all the power in the world to do it.” You stroke the corners of his mouth, pulling them up and down to make him laugh. “How much I love you.”

In his laughter, he wraps his hands around your waist, pulling you closer. Peppering his face with kisses, the two of you fall deeper inside the sheets, the only space in the world meant for the two of you. The smell of his cologne lingers on his body, your favorite smell. You breathe it in as he says, “I love you too.” He says the words in between more sets of kisses stamped into your face and neck.

The sunlight peeks in through San’s curtains when you retreat from underneath the comforter, the signal of a new day. Another set of beginnings and discoveries to look for, new realizations to be had. Only, this day is different. You no longer fear as you once did. If either you or San aren’t looking close enough, the other person will be there to help put the pieces together. Other days, you know you’re strong enough now to figure it all out on your own, just like San is. The two of you can be as slow or fast-paced as you want to, impulses or plans be damned. If that’s what love is supposed to be, you never want it to pass you by again.

@gyubakeries @loserlvrss @jjunberry@lovetaroandtaemin @xomakara @pars-ley @addictedtohobi @innocygnet @filmnings

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[healingpage]

vindicated (swear i'd never do it again) - choi yeonjun

ꕥ pairing: bf!yeonjun x afab!reader

ꕥ genres: smut, angst

ꕥ rating: 18+ mdni

ꕥ warning: dom!yeonjun, sub!reader, arguments, confrontations because they are adults, reader cries a lot, cheating (implied), make up sex, unprotected sex, oral (f.rec) multiple orgasm, fingering, riding

ꕥ wc: 6k

ꕥ a/n: i actually hate this... i've been gate keeping it since last year because of it but nevertheless enjoy

The noise of rain tapping on the windows corresponded with the racing beat of your heart. Weeks had passed since the previous arguments, yet the ensuing silence felt even more distressing. Yeonjun's brown coloured long trench coat still hung by the door, his cologne subtle yet persistent in the air—a harsh reminder of all that was left unsettled between you.

You sit on the floor of your shared apartment with legs crossed, browsing through the pages of a vintage photo album. Your eyes soften at the shiny pictures that seem like it quite narrates a tale of love that seems unstoppable for both of you. Yeonjun was smiling at a summer festival, his eyes almost closing as you guys were hit with warmth from the sun. You were right there by his side, kissing his cheek. Another picture captured you resting on his shoulder during a late-night train journey. At that time, your friends had playfully teased you about your inseparability, during your early stages of relationship, attached closely to each other’s hips all the time.

However, it seems that his love, you don't know, maybe it has faded as time passed. Like a withering flower that is waiting for a moment to shatter on earth, words that were once delivered with sweetness now carry a sharpness. Of course at first, the arguments began minor: late response to messages, any sorts of miscommunications that could have been resolved with an apology. Soon arrived the yelling disputes, doors being slammed, and evenings spent in different rooms. Yeonjun was always the avoidant type, rather than to sit together and talk he prefers to distance himself, stressing you out at the lack of communication.

As you are occupied with countless thoughts, you hear the door slowly being opened, causing you to look up abruptly. Yeonjun enters, his jet black hair evidently wet from the rain. He appears unchanged yet changed, his eyes bearing a heaviness that didn't exist previously. For a brief time, neither of you said anything. The atmosphere in the room was dense, laden with unspoken thoughts.

"You’re still around," Yeonjun eventually says, his tone distant.

"Now you don’t want me here? Where could I possibly go?" You coldly answer, hurt by the question, or his choice of words. Your hands quickly shutting the album and putting it down.

He moves a step closer, then two, then he is standing not even two steps away from you, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket. "I was wondering if perhaps you… I'm not sure." His voice is toned down at the end, like he’s not sure what to say.

"Isn’t that what you do?" The resentment in your voice was unignorable, tugging at the string of his heart. "You are gone whenever situations become too tense, you always walk away."

Something flinches inside Yeonjun hearing that, but he refuses to look away. “And you always hold on too tight,” he counters back, his voice trembling. “Like you’re afraid if you let go even a little, everything will fall apart.”

“Because it will fall apart, Yeonjun!” Your voice goes up three tones higher, it even cracks, but you care less about that when you have tears welling up. “It already is. Can’t you see that?”

“What do you want me to do, Y/N?” he asks, his voice breaking as well. “I’ve tried to fix this. I’ve tried to be enough for you, but maybe… maybe we’re just not compatible.”

His words hang between, heavy and suffocating. It feels like he’s admitting defeat, like acknowledging the storm both of you trapped in will never clear. And God, does it hurt. The constant effort you make to understand him better, the lies he told to your face you turned blind eye into, the missed important dates.

“You think I don’t know that?” you whisper, your voice barely audible to him. “But even after everything, I can’t walk away. I… I love you, Yeonjun. Even when it hurts. Even when you hurt me, over and over. I can lose everything, but not you…”

Yeonjun’s shoulders droop, and for the first time in a long time, he looks guilty. He stares at your wet face, your disheveled form, your trembling hands. You never look so broken, his sweet darling, the apple of his eyes, his precious love appears like a broken piece of glass before him, it wrenches his heart thinking that it was from all his doings.

“I love you too,” he admits, his voice raw. You can feel his gaze soften a bit, eyes no longer angry. “But is love enough if all I do is hurting you?”

The question is like a stabbing knife to your heart. You both knew the answer, but neither has the courage to say it aloud. Silence fills the air once more, the rain pouring outside is like a brutal mirror to the storm inside your apartment.

Finally, Yeonjun closes the distance between you. He hesitantly kneels in front of you, his hands trembling as he cups your face. “I don’t want to lose you either,” he says, every word that comes up from his mouth shakes. “But I don’t know how to fix this.”

“Maybe we can’t fix it,” you replied, your tears spilling non stop now that he’s got his hands on you. It is obvious that his hand is cold from the freezing weather outside, yet it spreads warmth inside you as you lean further into his comforting, healing touch. “Maybe we just have to accept that we’re broken. But I’d rather be broken with you than whole without you. I don’t wanna give up on us, Jjunie.”

Yeonjun leans his forehead against yours as he hears the nickname, his own tears falling. You let him engulf you in his arms, arms brushing over each other giving you goosebumps on the realisation that you went on a week without him. His chest heaves up and down, relaxed heartbeat calming you down as you savour the moment.

“I am sorry, baby,” he is the first one to break the silence. You could not pinpoint whether he is sincere about it, but his eyes are telling you like you matter the most in his world. “I hurt you, didn't I? How’d you sleep this past week?” His voice laced with concern, tone so dulcet and sweet you feel like you are falling into a gush of sugar. Knowing you hardly fall asleep without him around, his mind floods with sorrowful guilt.

“Horrible, I missed you,” you come clean, him smiling so softly you would miss it if you weren't right in his hug.

“Poor baby, I missed her too,” he uses his usual baby tone to talk to you, stroking the back of your head while you find yourself closing your eyes at the comforting contact.

“Wanna cuddle?” He's asking so nicely, not even waiting for your answer as he lifts you up from the cold floor, wrapping your legs around his waist. He walks you both to your shared room, your heart thumping as you feel butterflies all over again. The room hasn't changed since the last time you guys slept in the same bed and room, clean simple beige sheets that Yeonjun had changed after your last intercourse being where you land on.

He's taking off his jacket, the only thing that he wears on his upper body being the black sleeveless shirt that drives you crazy everytime you see those on him. Your eyes that are set on him trembles a bit, forcing you to let out a cough.

“It's January. You shall wear something more warm.”

“I could warm up being next to you,” he's quick with his witty answer, already jumping on the bed again, pulling you yet again into his embrace. His face is buried in your neck, lips dangerously wandering around your sensitive areas you breathe deeply as you bite back a moan.

“Jjunie, I thought we were only going to cuddle,” you interrupt, yet you find your hands tangling in his strands of hair, noticeably longer since the last time you held onto them.

“Aren’t we?” his lips latching on your skin by now, gently sucking on the flesh before he lets go, leaving a fresh mark of him on you, reclaiming his territory. He retreats for a while, lips part as he hears the small gasp that comes up as you notice the hickey. “So beautiful…”

As you remain captivated by his alluring move, seemingly innocent as he keeps making out first, then his hands start to roam not only over but now under your clothing a little. He strips your top off first, fondling at your tits.

“Tell me if you don’t want me,” he pauses, looking at your expression. Your doe eyes look at him, a bit glassy. His stomach churns at that, just a moment ago, you were yelling at him but now, under him you could not deny his contact with your body.

“Oh—” you moan out, feeling every inch of your body craving for his touch more and more, you could feel your underwear sticking onto your entrance by now, your arousal grows greedier. “Yeonjun.”

“Am right here, baby. Tell me what you need.”

“Want you, need you, all of you, oh my god—” your words are cut at how he would make easy work of the tiny shorts that wrap you, he slips them off quickly, palming your ass before slipping off the lacy underwear too.

Then his shirt is off in a minute, before long you're staring at one spot on his chest, your voice that says his name shrieking. Yeonjun is confused at first, before he looks at the direction you are setting your eyes to. His eyes widen as you shove him away, your trembling hands pulling the comforter to cover your body.

“Was–was there someone else?” your voice comes up shaky, eyes glistening with tears that pools at your lower lid. Yeonjun is silenced, a lost look evident in his face. “Y/n…”

“Answer me!” Your tears are falling now, your heart crushed at how he’s not quick to reassure you, to deny your assumption, anything. The bruise mark on his chest, one that was not created by you. Sure, your relationship had been quite flimsy at times after a solid three years, but you never had a reason to doubt his love for you. Every time you argue, it was never about a third person. The third person has never come into the picture. “Did you sleep with her?!” you shout, Yeonjun flinches at the tone.

“Baby, I don’t–”

“Then, what the fuck is that on your neck?” you ask, squinting at a faint purplish mark near his collarbone. It was positioned enough to be hidden when he’s wearing a shirt, but now that it’s off, it’s so evident.

Yeonjun covers the hickey with his hand, the movements rushed and awkward. “Oh, this? It’s... nothing. Just a bruise from a fall,” he mumbles, avoiding eye contact.

“Let me see,” you say after a long silence, your tone firm but he can see the way your lips tremble. Yeonjun hesitates a little, but you reach out your hand, and he lets you inspect the spot. You feel your stomach turn as you lightly run your fingertips over it. You aren’t foolish, it was not just any bruise; it was distinctly shaped and coloured like a hickey.

Your heart drops as you feel the reality of the situation. “That has nothing to do with a fall. Be honest with me.”

Yeonjun’s face changes, and the room falls quiet for a brief period. Both of you, especially Yeonjun, feel anxious about the occasion.

He wobbles with "I... I can explain," but his words sounded unsure, and you feel that is an insincere answer. Like he’s hiding something.

Your head whirl with feelings of betrayal, rage, hurt, and disbelief. This has turned into the rifts in the trust you had established together, not simply about the mark. Your head feels heavy, turning down as you cry.

“It’s not what you’re thinking, y/n!” he’s also yelling now, frustration overcoming him. Guilt, sadness and anger mixed in as he breathed in, his own eyes wet. His heart breaks seeing your state, it’s not the first time he sees you crying but this time you look incredibly heartbroken, miserable and not just upset at him.

“Then, what, what would explain this, Yeonjun?” you are fully sobbing, words imprecise swallowed by your cry.

“I was just… at the club okay? I was drunk, I don’t even remember–”

“Fuck that!” you cut him off, your voice burst with fume. “Do you realize how this looks?! How does it feel to even think you might’ve cheated on me? You try to sleep with me when that mark hasn’t even disappeared?!”

“Baby,” he tries again, trying to get closer to you.

“Don’t baby me,” your voice cold as ice in line with the gaze you now give him. “I don’t know, I thought you would never do that to me. I would never find someone else as long as I’m your girlfriend, Yeonjun. So stupid of me to hold on to you, I should have left long ago, so I don’t feel this hurt, because now I love you so much—too much, it feels even more painful…” you confess, finding yourself laughing at the absurdness yet your tears keep on rolling non stop. “If you don’t like me anymore you could just tell me. I would pack my things myself so you don’t have to rub it in like this.” Sniffles exit your nose, the back of your hand become the temporary napkin as you rub your tears away.

His eyes softened as he reached for her hands, his touch warm but cautious. “Y/n, I’d never hurt you like that. I love you. Please believe me.”

You pull your hands back, turning away to hide the tears welling yet again in your eyes. But before you could retreat further, Yeonjun closes the gap between you both, wrapping his arms around you from behind.

“Y/n, look at me,” he whispers, his breath warm against her ear. “You’re everything to me. I can’t stand the thought of you doubting that.”

You turn slowly, her tearful eyes meeting his. There is sincerity in his gaze that makes your heart falter, and along that, a little of expectation because you can still feel the love. It’s still there in his eyes, filled with it and warmth as he looks at you.

“Explain to me,” you say, trying to steady your voice but Yeonjun, knowing you through, could catch that you are still hoping for his denial, still hoping that it isn’t true what you see. With a regretful smile, he cups your face gently, brushing tears away, his fingers on you treating it as delicate as possible.

“Won’t you judge me?” he carefully asks, studying your expression as your brow rises in confusion.

“It depends,” you answer, short, simple and clear.

“Saturday,” he starts, “I was at Taehyun’s. I was stressed out about our fight, and then he persuaded me into going to the club. Relax a little. I had a drink, maybe two but I was so wasted, I don’t remember who was it, I don’t know her, it was a random girl there, I’m gonna be honest we make out a little, and she did this,” he pauses, touching the mark, before his gaze settles on you confidently this time, “Taehyun came up, and he dragged me out there, telling me all about it the next morning. He was meaning to tell you everything first, but I told him not to, because I want to settle things ourselves.”

“Why didn't you tell her you’re not single,” you complain, lips pouting as you contemplate the story, it seems believable but you don’t know for sure. “And why do you have to be so hot, people literally couldn't leave you alone.”

He softly laughs at that, before turning serious again. “I am sorry, pretty girl,” he apologizes, “I don’t know how to mend things that have already happened, I know I should’ve known how wasted I’d be and just head home.”

He then grabs your comforter covered waist, pulling your head to land on his chest, letting you wet it. Your sobbing grows louder first, hands reluctantly creeping up to touch his shoulders. “I am sorry, oh baby, you don’t know how sorry I am, it’s all my fault, should have stayed that night, just hold you close until you’re not upset at me.”

“What can I do to earn your forgiveness, tell me, gorgeous,” his voice is whiny now, almost pleading when your sniffles haven't stopped. The hand that is holding onto your back scatters random shapes on it.

“Then prove it,” you mumble, looking up to him again, your voice barely audible.

Yeonjun cups your face gently, you look very endearing with cheeks red, eyes swollen and lips pouting a bit, his thumbs brushing away the tears remaining on your cheeks. “I’ll spend my entire life proving it,” he says, the sound of his confession thick with emotion.

Your lips meet together in a tender kiss, one that starts slow but it quickly deepens as you could feel the desperation in his touch, the regret, the unspoken promise that he’d never betray your trust.

He lifts you effortlessly, carrying you back on the bed where you can place your head on the pillow comfortably. His hands roam your back as yours are tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. The tension between you dissolves into a shared need for closeness, for reassurance, for reconciliation, for love.

Seconds later, he's immediately invading your personal space, arms around you in a tight, needy embrace. He has his face nestled in the crook of your neck, a heavy breath that tells you he's relieved and something familiar, something that you hunch as love.

“Jun—“ he smashes his mouth against yours, tongue pushing past your lips, the taste of chapstick that you're familiar with, the one that he only uses during winter due to dryness. Desperate sounds leave both your mouths, you are whining while he's half groaning. His body pressed against yours, separated by the cover that hasn't left your body. When he finally pulls away from the passionate kiss, his eyes find yours, filled with affective and yearning.

“I missed you s’ much, princess, how did I survived a whole week without you,” he presses a kiss to your neck, tongue tracing the collarbone with a cherish that signifies his worship on you.

“Would you allow me, princess, I want to make it up to you, please,” he looks up at you with his big, puppy-like eyes, an expression so pitiful it’s admirable. The desperation behind them makes it difficult to say no. You aren't better, your whole body is craving for him.

“Touch me,” you let out a soft whimper, arching into his touch. "Please," you breathe out, and he happily obliges, the cover is off the bed instantly.

Then his hands travel down your sides to your hips, fingers digging in as if to keep you anchored to him. The hand then kneads the meat of your ass, your breath hitches as he goes down on you, nails digging into his arms as you inhale deeply as if committing you to memorise his scent.

“My girl’s so pretty,” he slurs out, before he dives into your pussy, your hand goes flying to grab onto his hair as he splits you open through his tongue.

“Yeonjun!”

“Sorry,” he murmurs against your inner thigh, his hot breath causing goosebumps to rise in its wake. He says sorry, but his action doesn't match the word. “Has been so long since I munched on this.”

Your toes curl, eyes thrown back at the way he is switching between licking and sucking, almost like that's the whole purpose of his life. his scruffy cheeks hollow as he sucks a hickey into the soft flesh of your inner thigh. He was right though, it has been a while, the pleasure is almost foreign to you.

“Are you still my girl?” he questions, sounding cocky like the usual Yeonjun you know. The sexy, intimidating confidence that has you weak in your knees every time. Your only response is a moan, causing his lips to turn into a smirk, “Of course you are, I‘m the only one that can get you this wet, baby. Correct?”

No longer able to give him a reply, he continues to work his mouth on you. His tongue is relentless, it is sucking onto your entrance, then it is swirling around your clit with increasing fervor. The pace is sloppy, uncoordinated, messy even sometimes, but it only serves to bring you higher to the excitement of it all. Each time he pulls back, you can hear his heavy pant in search of breath, feel the way his mouth lets out your name.

“Oh, Y’jun—” your mindlessly thrown words trail off into incoherent mumbles as you feel closer to the edge, bringing you the sensation. “So close, please.”

The urgency in your begging translates to him as an invitation to continue. The way your entire body is wound up so tense, unwittingly ready to snap. He moves his thumb finger to press on your clit, skilled enough to actually let another two of them be inserted in your pussy, curling them just right so that they’re pressing against that dangerous spot that has you seeing stars.

“Shit, you just got way wetter, you have been craving me that much, huh,“ he chuckles against your thighs, and he's not completely wrong. The way he's re-arranging your inside, it's like he's trying to prove a point, to prove that as much as he needs you, you need him too.

"Wanna cum, please," you gasp out, and then he increases the intensity, your thighs shaking like crazy before it all stops as your liquid gushes out. Yeonjun is more than glad to pick up some of it, slurping them from his fingers. His sexy gaze and your quivering ones meet, silent praises and apologies heard from the way he's caressing your waist gently.

“You haven't come yet,” your sweet voice echoes in his ears. You are still the bundle of love for him, always thinking of his pleasure when you were just crying betrayed by his trust earlier. With agony, Yeonjun is shaking his head, presenting you with a small smile.

“No, it's okay princess. I should be fine, let's go to sleep, hmm? You are tired, I'll hold you,” he's denying you, aware of how relaxed your body is after having your orgasm, you must be so sexually frustrated the whole week. On top of that he knows how bad your sleep was affected due to your argument. Your eyes have been drowsy for a while now, yet you find strength to get up, straddling his lap.

��Love shall go both ways, as much as I mean the world to you, you mean the same to me. What you want from me, I want you the same way too.”

Your eyes staring at him, the honesty in it clear as crystal. Your hand that he is missing so much takes off his pants. The skin against his feels so soft, you are moving a bit behind to kneel before him.

“You really don't have to, princess,” he's saying again, hands caressing your hairline. You look up to him with round eyes, determined to mean what you said earlier. In a brief moment, you are presented with his hard-ons, the sight making you drooling. He's denying you once again with the look in his eyes, so you confidently reply, “I wanna do this.”

“Fuck," Yeonjun breathes out, eyes twisting shut as he feels your warm throat enveloping him. He collects your hair in his fist gently, holding it as you swallow him whole. Your hands move to rest on his thighs, pretty acrylics pressing on it whenever another inch of him goes in.

The feeling of your mouth enveloping him has him pulsing in your throat, his lips part as lewd sounds of him moaning leaves. “You're doing so well for me, babe.”

You take the praise to relax your jaw, letting his tip hit the back of your throat. Your eyes water at the feeling, hurriedly tapping his thighs to let him know the cue. He tightens the grip he has on your hair as he starts to move your head on his length, forcing you to take more and more of him till your nose brushes against his pelvis.

He moves your head up and down, his thrust harsh as he makes you take his entire length then leaving only his tip before repeating the entire process, moaning out your name whenever his head brushes against your throat.

You know he is getting close—you could feel him pulsing in your mouth, as a layer of sweet coated his forehead despite the cold room, making him glow so charmingly. You inhale a deep breath, before sucking in your cheeks, humming his name around him, knowing it is exactly what it would take to throw him over the edge.

“I'm close, baby,” he pleads, inaudible chatters of moans follows after as you double your efforts, and as expected a few seconds later his release spreads through your throat as you continue to bob your head to swallow.

Yeonjun’s chest is heaving, his hair a disheveled mess as he leans his hand heavily against your head, staring down at you like you’d just knocked the wind out of him. You guys stay silent for a while, eye contact with each other being the only sole communicator.

And when you place your legs on either side of him, both of his hands finding their home on your waist, your hole wet and slick enough, ready for him, he’s once again starstrucked, the feeling's overwhelming like you’re made just for him. He bites his lip when you slide down with a whiny mention of his name, you stay still for a moment, and he's all but resist as he needs the comfort of you being wrapped around him right now just bad.

Your eyes could not help but trail down to the mark from earlier, upsetting thoughts taking over you as you encounter the upsetting thoughts again. Your eyes tremble with tears as you hold onto Yeonjun’s shoulders, you begin to sob again, the sight making Yeonjun uneasy as he’s even more apologetic when you are so clearly hurt by the smallest mark, yet the biggest mistake he had made.

"You're mine, you got that?" you sniffle, your touch on him soft but it feels possessive enough to Yeonjun at that point of time.

"Of course, all yours baby, only yours," he breathes as you part your lips, looking down on his neckline. Your eyes briefly glance over the hickey painted over his chest and it leaves the feeling of your heart throbbing in your chest. Unshed tears sting at your eyes, the sound of incoherent sob immediately puts him to sit up against the headboard, holding you close to him.

“I’m sorry, we shouldn’t do this, let’s just—”

“No,” you decline immediately, hands clasping together at his shoulder trying to push him back to let you be in charge. You bite back a sob, “I want to do this. Want this off you,” you snivel, looking pitiful and so eager to get the mark to be hidden by your own, your lip finding its way to his skin, sucking on it before your teeth sink on the same exact spot that leaves Yeonjun wincing in pain. He’s staring at you deeply now, heart wrenched as droplets of tears roll down your cheek in frustration.

"I should’ve been better, should’ve tried harder, I'm gonna make things right, love, I swear," he's spurting all his emotion out, hands scrambling to make their way to your thighs and helping you to move.

“Swear I’d never do it again,” he adds, his pillow-y soft lip rasps across your sensitive neck as he plants gentle kisses all over it. The action is filled with reassurance, infatuation, and warmth. Quite literally soft and tender, far from the agony that had filled your heart only moments before.

“There, princess?” he's asking, his tip reaching your sensitive spot, your voice exceptionally high pitched when you reply to him a yes.

He's much more attentive tonight. Usually sex with him was rough, which you couldn’t complain about or dislike, but there is something adorable about him being so soft with you that always made this a lot more enjoyable than usual. His kisses and praises doubles, along with the occasional apologies, his promise to do better. Your mind goes out from while to while, unable to comprehend the actual sentence that he forms. You are just glad he's holding you, grounding you from blacking out.

“Let me show you my love,” he helps you on your back, his dick sliding out for a while, smiling softly when you make a fuss for it, “I know, it's okay, baby,” comes out his mouth as he thrust up into you, sucking at your neck to leave a few more love bites.

“Faster,” you whimper, dissatisfied at the slow pace.

“We'll get there, so impatient,” Yeonjun chuckles, his hand brushing against your arms to settle into your breast, fondling it. Your desperate moans filled the room, the pace slowly building up. Your hand travels down to your clit, rubbing it before it gets shoved away by Yeonjun instantly.

Before you could question his denial, he whispers a stern “I could do that,” as you relax to his touch, his skilled fingers working its magic. You wrap your arms around his shoulder, pulling him into a kiss, moaning into his mouth as he brings you closer to your high.

He hums against your lips as you tighten around him when you reach your orgasm, peppering the softest kisses all around your face while his hands mapped out your precious body that he’s come to cherish so much. Someone as lovely, as flawless, and as serene as you is a blessing for a man like him, a man who is emotionally lacking and aloof. Your body shakes with the overstimulation, a small smile escapes as he slows the pace, tender and consistent thrust to relax you.

“You feel so good, baby.” His eyes trailing down your body to where you are connected, the base of his cock wraps with thick white rings of your arousal, and his mouth opens at the vicious sight. He watches closely for your expression every time he plunges forward; your hips moving to meet his, thrust for thrust despite your previous orgasm. “Pussy made for me, yeah? Missed me that much?”

Each harsh thrust makes your tits bounce and forces a moan out from you as a response. Yeonjun chuckles at your lack of words, the sight admirable for him. The pleasure on your part made it difficult for you to even make out his expression or words anymore, feeling like you are on cloud nine for a second and a second later you are back on ground.

“Gonna make it up to you, promise,” he’s mumbling in between his praise for you, left at his mercy as he draws various shapes on your clit to push you further in ecstasy, another orgasm creeping in as you hold onto his shoulder tight.

As you let go for him, the endless words of flattery along with assurance of the love he has for you acts as your company. He’s slowing down, waiting for you to come down from your high. As your breath and heartbeat falls into a stable rhythm again, he’s back to thrusting slowly, your breath hitches as you are flooded with oversensitivity, wincing at the intrusion.

“Shh… I’m sorry, just a little bit more, pretty,” his whisper sends relaxation, trusting him with everything as you nod, occasional whimpers leaving your mouth at the slight discomfort. You shift your entire focus on him as he reaches his release, eyebrows furrowed with a slightly opened mouth as you reach your hands out to touch him on the cheek. The contact subconsciously draws a moan from him, resting his forehead on yours.

“Baby,” he calls out, “I’m sorry, I love you.”

Your lips twitch into a small smile, nodding as you rub his cheek yet you say nothing. The silence is deafening, Yeonjun himself cringing as he pulls out from you slowly. None of you breaks the silence as he gets up first to clean himself, allowing you to take a small nap before being woken up by him, for the never forgotten aftercare.

“Do you mind if I sleep with you tonight? I wanna have you in my arms.” The question arises from him as he buttons your pyjamas for tonight. He takes in your cozy state, eyelashes fluttering as you look up to him. You rarely ever see his nervous state, he is a person that always exudes such kind of charisma, carrying himself with confidence, at least around you, yet he seems least intimidating, nervous and very cautious with that simple question.

He isn’t looking for grand gestures or dramatic declarations. What he’s asking for is something simple, intimate, and deeply human: the opportunity to lie beside you, to hold you, and maybe even to begin the slow process of rebuilding what was lost, piece by piece. For a moment, you let yourself believe that this time, it might be different. That he genuinely wants to start anew and make amends, not just relive the moments of the past.

“Of course, Jjunie. Hold me, and don’t let go.”

At your reply, Yeonjun nearly jumps, placing you snuggly in his hold, not missing the opportunity to land a kiss every each and a while on your forehead as you relax and allow yourself to doze off.

[hwaslayer]

wildfire (cs) | fourteen.

—spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.

—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 5.5k

—chapter content/warnings: cussing/mature language, mostly focused on namjoon again in his stressed with no rest era, oc tells her friends about everything, jiung x oc fighting, crying :(, oc has a pretty good talk with namjoon, things are just shifting/changing

—a/n: the next fic coming up after wildfire has been posted here! also if you haven't taken my poll, pls do so! hehe <33 i appreciate u

You lay back against the arm of the couch with your blanket sprawled on top, typing away the last bits of info into your presentation. You're a slide away from creating your acknowledgements slide and wrapping up the entire rotation update. You had gotten an email from both San and Namjoon stating that your rotation in San's lab was ending due to a change in your timeline and that you needed to present your rotation update to the both of them, along with the dean, in the following week. It scared you at first— and it still does now— but it's starting to make more sense as to why San did what he did. Namjoon sent you a side email asking if you could meet today because he wanted to discuss what was going on. He kept it vague. Short.

Maybe he was holding off until the meeting.

It's obvious who started all of this. It's not hard to tell.

But, you agreed to meet after TAing for Yunho— letting Namjoon know you'd be there as soon as class was over. He agreed to the time and sent you a reassuring message towards the end, telling you all would be well and that he'd help you figure things out no matter what.

It was reassuring, but it doesn't mean you weren't scared.

Anxious.

Nervous.

Doesn't mean any if this it hurt any less. Doesn't mean you weren't angry, upset, sad. You still needed to feel it out, especially being alone and going through this without anyone else to talk to about it.

You had Eunchae, Jurin and Felix. But, you wished you had Jiung to talk to. You wished you didn't feel hurt about him, too.

—FLASHBACK

"So, you two are seeing each other?" Jurin asks while she sits in front of you and holds onto your knee to give it a gentle rub. Eunchae sits next to you with her arm over your shoulder, also giving you a gentle caress, squeeze. Felix sits next to Jurin and he's got a look of concern, but sadness. You had finally opened up about everything between you and San; from how things started, the conferences, staying at his house, being with him—

To not.

Jiung keeps himself posted near your window because he doesn't really wanna hear more about it but he needs to— to understand the full story. Part of him also feels guilty for what he did hearing your cries and how awfully torn up you are over Professor Choi.

San.

He's gotta get used to you calling him San like that.

"Were." You shake your head and press the tissue against your nose to pat it dry. "It's done with now."

"But, why? Couldn't you guys just play it off?" 

"I'm sure he wanted to be safe, though." Felix adds softly. "I think I kinda see where he's coming from." He looks at you. "I don't think he meant to hurt you, but he's probably trying to protect you and keep everything safe in the meantime. Once this blows over—"

"I doubt we'd get back together."

"Don't say that. You never know, Y/N. I agree with Lix. He's probably just trying to do what's best for now even if it hurts him to. I'm sure he cares a lot about you. I mean heck, he almost fucked up Hae-jin in front of everyone." You sigh and look down at your hands, the feeling of sadness and emptiness all consuming. 

"He does." Eunchae adds to Jurin's reassurance. "I don't know why Professor Lee and Professor Jeong think it's their business, though. Haven't they done enough damage?"

"Awful. People literally can't mind their business, especially when it has nothing to do with them."

"I get the power dynamics but Professor Choi doesn't seem like the type. So, honestly, it's not like anyone was getting hurt in the process." Jiung silently fiddles with his hoodie string as Felix goes on.

"And people clearly don't know you if they assume you're the one throwing yourself on him." Jurin adds.

"Damn. Two people can't just be together?" Felix shakes his head. "Anyway, you got us, and this will pass. I'm sure Professor Kim will do everything to help and figure things out, too." You dig your face into your hands, trying to wipe away the remaining tears before you nod and smile at Lix in appreciation for his support, too. 

Still, you can't help but notice how Jiung has remained quiet this entire time— barely able to maintain eye contact with you.

"Should we go to dinner? Get some food in you?" Eunchae gives you a small smile and giggle. You nod and stand with them, quickly checking your appearance in the mirror while the three start making their way out of your door.

"Can we talk for a second?"

"About?"

"I just have to tell you something. Probably shouldn't wait until after dinner."

"Um, okay?" You look at him, hands crossed over your chest in a vulnerable manner, doe-eyes peeking up at him as he lets out a hefty sigh. "What's on your mind?"

"Y/N, I'm sorry. I just wanna say I'm sorry and I hope you understand where I'm coming from. But—" He lets out another sigh before shaking his head, almost as if he were shaking his feelings off. Trying to tell himself he needs to say it. "I-I went to Professor Kim and told him about you and Professor Choi. I told him I thought you were being taken advantage of and that I was worried."

"What?" You can barely get out. "W-why would you do that?"

"I was really just worried and I wasn't sure how else to get to you. I-I thought Professor Kim would be able to help—"

"Jiung." You call his name and step back, not wanting to be in close proximity to him. You knew he was worried about you, but you didn't think he'd go off and talk to Namjoon about it right away. "Why would you do that? Why couldn't we just keep talking about it— why did you have to go and blow this up even more?!"

"I'm sorry, can you blame me?!—"

"You didn't have to go behind my fucking back and tell Professor Kim! I already told you it wasn't like that and you still told him it was?! What the actual hell, Jiung?"

"I was just worried about you! I was being your fucking bestfriend, trying to make sure you weren't hurt or anything."

"And then you made things worse. Are you happy?" You scoff. "Those assumptions could have really fucked up Professor Choi."

"What about you, Y/N? Why do you keep disregarding yourself?! Is that even healthy—"

"Healthy?! I'm telling you the truth!" You scoff. "And you don't know shit about me and him, so quit acting like you do." You throw your hands up in defeat because he'll never get it. "Forget it, okay? You'll never understand and I don't need you to."

"Hey, what's going on?" Felix pops his head in, confused at the ruckus going on behind doors. Truthfully, he heard everything just as he was approaching the door to check up on you, and he's not sure how to feel. It's hard. He feels like he's in the middle because he sees Jiung, he sees you.

"You guys can go off to dinner together, but I'll probably just stay behind." 

"But, Y/N—" Jiung adds in defeat.

"Why don't you and the girls go? We'll catch up later." Felix tugs him by the sleeve and gives him a look. "Give her some space." He mutters lowly just as he gets in close distance.

—END

Your alarm blares on the coffee table, a harsh reminder that you haven't really slept much. It was time to wrap up and get ready for Yunho's class— something you weren't entirely ready to tackle today either.

But, you get up anyway. 

You sigh and put on your brave face.

You throw on a simple sweater, jeans and your Sambas— dabbing a bit of mascara, brow gel and lip gloss to fix yourself up a tiny bit for the day. You were tired of feeling sad and dressing the part; the least you could do was finally get some fresh air and look decent enough for the world while coming out of your slump. You grab your things and pack up your bag, heading out of the door with your keys in hand.

Kinda sucks you won't be returning to San's lab.

Kinda sucks you won't be returning to San.

You let out a sigh and quietly walk over to the classroom in peace, keeping your head down for a majority of the time. 

Avoiding eye contact, avoiding anything having to do with the outside world in meantime.

"Hey!" Yunho says in his usual fashion. You give him a small smile, although you're not really sure why he's joining class yet again today. He had been joining your class in particular recently, and you knew why.

He just wanted to get under your skin.

"Hi." You respond, getting your laptop together. Yunho continues to watch you from where you're standing, noting the sadness that envelopes your entire body. The way you're avoiding him. The way it's so blatantly obvious that you know that he knows.

That Iseul is the reason why you're sad.

You don't say anything otherwise; keeping your head down and away from Yunho even while the class walks in. You continue to carry on with the last journal club of the class before giving everyone time to work on their final proposals before it's due at the end of the evening. A few people linger at the end of class to speak with you and Yunho to get your guidance on the last remaining bits of their proposals before they thank you for all your help and head out for the day.

You still haven't said a word to Yunho, and he can't help but ask:

"Is something wrong?" Yunho asks nonchalantly after class, looking at your figure even though you are avoiding eye contact with him while packing up your things.

"No."

"You don't have to lie to me."

"I don't know why you're asking if something is wrong when you know what it is already. Don't you?" You look at him plainly from the side before gathering the rest of your things.

"Whatever's been happening between you and San is between you and San—"

"So, was it you who told Professor Kim? Or was it Professor Lee?" You cut him off. Yunho stares at you, and he doesn't respond. Of course he won't, of course he won't throw Iseul under the bus even though you know she was behind it.

"It was for the best."

"Quite frankly, I don't think you can speak on what's best for me or him. Especially him." You look at Yunho directly in the eye. "Are you both that determined to bring San down? Is that what this?" He furrows his brows.

"Reel it in, Y/N." He says, sternly. "Do you not understand how damaging this could be for both you and him? If anything, it was done to protect you both."

"What makes you think we weren't capable of doing so?" Yunho lets out a pathetic chuckle before he steps forward and leans towards your ear, a small smirk on his lips.

"I think snuggling up on campus and sneaking into his office is enough of a reason." He pulls back, licking his lips before dipping his hands into his pocket.

"And I think you need to learn how to mind your own business and let San handle his own." You scoff. "In any case, Yunho." You look him in the eye. "You and Iseul already ruined him from the beginning and you can't come to terms with it." You tilt your head to the side. "You both were never deserving of San, and that is sad. No wonder you two are miserable and are still keeping tabs on him." Yunho's mouth slightly drops, but he doesn't respond to your statement. "I'll help out with finals if needed. Otherwise, please consider my TA assignment with you done."

You almost run into Iseul as you stomp out of the classroom, leaving her to knit her brows at you in response.

"Nice talk." Iseul pops in, her husband biting his cheek.

"We should have never gotten involved with that, Iseul." He says lowly as he gathers his things together.

"Oh, so just let them—"

"That's exactly it, just let them be." He cuts her off and looks at her. "It didn't have to be us. We could've just let them be and let anyone else do the talking. Let them learn on their own." His jaw ticks.

"We did the right thing." She crosses her arms.

"Still doesn't change the fact that you're taking the opportunity to destroy San and running with it. It didn't have to be us." He repeats, slinging his bag onto his shoulder.

"Yunho." She says. "You're not actually taking Y/N seriously, are you? She's delusional if she thinks all of this is okay and would've slipped."

"Don't call her delusional, Iseul. You have no say in their relationship or what they're about. You had no right. They knew what they were getting into. You just lead them into the trap for your own benefit." Yunho scoffs. "You wanted to see this unfold, didn't you? You wanted this to unfold in a specific way." 

"What is going on, Yunho?"

"We're not meddling in this anymore. If you're not ready to stop, count me out of it. I'm not doing this, I'm not picking at their business anymore." He grabs his things and takes the lead out of the room. Iseul scoffs and shakes her head, slowly trailing behind him.

As for you, you feel cold. You feel isolated. You feel empty. You walk out and find a hidden table behind the building and set yourself down to get yourself together. You let out a couple of breaths to ease your feelings, promising yourself you wouldn't cry over this anymore.

But, it hurts to hold it in.

It hurts.

You feel the dullness, the heavy ache, in the center of your chest, and it hurts.

You have to move on.

"Fuck." You sigh, hand over your chest to give it a few gentle rubs before you're back on your feet and checking the time. You need to see Professor Kim just like your promised.

Of course, as you're on your way to Professor Kim's office, you find San passing by with Yeosang and Jongho. His eyes land on you and you immediately break first, feeling the tears ready to well up in your eyes. He sees the way your head drops and how you turn away— he can't help but slightly turn over his shoulder to keep his eyes on you.

To lock eyes with you once more.

To feel.

But, it doesn't happen. And it fucks San up more than he expects because he doesn't know even know what Jongho and Yeosang are talking about anymore after that brief interception.

"Yo, you good?" Jongho taps his chest with a small chuckle, bringing San back to reality.

"Yeah. Sorry." He tries to play it off quickly but Jongho quickly turns over his shoulder to see you walking in the opposite direction.

"All good." He returns to San and gives his shoulder a small squeeze. "I'm sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about." San gives him a toothless smile. "Anyway, did you guys figure out where we're going before we make laps around campus?" Yeosang and Jongho share a quick look before they follow behind San and pick the conversation back up to prevent any of San's sadness from creeping up.

Meanwhile, you continue your way to Professor Kim's office, wiping away the stragglers that manage to escape your eyes and streak your cheeks. You weren't gonna let this get to you, so you quickly try to brush it off and get yourself together especially when you walk down the hallway and into Professor Kim's office. He's in his chair, typing away on his computer— glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose.

"Hey Y/N, come sit and make yourself comfortable." He smiles at you and you return the gesture, sitting down on the chair posted in front of his desk.

"Thanks for meeting with me today, Professor Kim."

"No, thank you." He chuckles and finally shifts his full attention towards you. "How are you today?"

"Uh, could be better but not complaining."

"Yeah? How was class with Professor Jeong?"

"Hm, okay." You hum before shifting in your seat nervously. 

"Just okay?" You nod. "Well, as long as there aren't any complaints or anything you wanna tell me." Namjoon knows you probably aren't having a great time in Yunho's class right now and he doesn't blame you.

"No." You force a smile. "Anyway, I see that I have to do my rotation presentation next week?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry, Y/N. You do understand why this is all happening, right?" You slowly nod. "I know you and San have been seeing each other, and I know he ended things the other day. I'm really sorry, but I just need to protect you both. Word is getting around fast and the dean isn't having it. I can't have him fire San, I can't have him kick you out of the grad program. Please just understand why things have to be this way. I just need it to settle."

"I do." You respond weakly before looking down at your hands. "I'm sorry for causing so much trouble, Professor Kim. I didn't mean— we didn't mean for this to blow up. I-I know we shouldn't have been so sloppy and reckless, and I'm sorry—"

"Hey, hey." He shakes his head with a sympathetic look. "No need to be sorry. I promise all is fine, and that's why I'm here to help and protect you both." You look at him with a sad nod, and you aren't sure why that's the tipping point for you but you suddenly start to break down in front of Professor Kim. He feels his heart breaks because he knows there wasn't any power play in this; he knows San as a person, and he's familiar with you as a student and the work you do. There was no way either of you used any power or position for your advantage. He knew this had been a genuine, real relationship— it's just truly unfortunate it had to unfold this way.

If word hadn't gotten around, maybe Namjoon wouldn't care at all. 

But, he has to now, and that's what makes everything hard about his role.

"I promise everything is going to be okay." He says softly.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—" Namjoon shakes his heas, watching the way you cry into your hands.

"Y/N, it's okay. You can let it out if you need to." He passes you the tissue box. "Can I ask you something? And be honest. I've already figured out your plan for school so you don't have to hold back." Namjoon says. "Do you care about him?" You nod as you continue to cry, the ache in your chest making it hard for you to breathe. 

You miss San.

"But, it doesn't matter because he ended it. It's over with."

"He only did so because of my guidance, and I'm sorry about that. I told him this too, but it's not something I wanted to do. Trust me. As his friend, it's the first time I've seen him genuinely and truly happy. It's all I wanted after the things he's gone through. But, I just can't risk it right now. San is beginning to reach new heights with his career and getting more real estate to do things he's been wanting to do with Jongho. You're also just getting into the groove of things. I don't want either of your hard work to get snatched away over something like this."

"No, I know Professor Kim. I do understand and I'm grateful. It just sucks. I don't know how else we would've gotten away with it, I guess." You sniff. "Maybe it had to happen."

"Look, I told him this, too. But, I can't police every detail and tell you who you can and can't date. If San is someone you care about, then so be it, but the only thing I ask of you is to keep it off campus. I cannot have you two interacting on campus or else he's out. Not by my choice, but the committee."

"I don't want anything to happen to him."

"I know, and he said the same thing about you. He cares just as much, so don't think that he doesn't." You dab your face with the napkin and nod.

"Jiung confessed and told me he came to you about it." Namjoon nods.

"I think he was just worried as your friend. Rightfully so. But, I think he also shouldn't have jumped to those conclusions right away."

"I told him that."

"If I hadn't known San so well, I probably would've believed Jiung." He sighs. "It's alright, he didn't know and he was worried. Are you two okay?"

"Not really, but I think we just need time. I'm trying to see his side of things, but I also didn't think he'd do that so it caught me off guard."

"I see. Well. Give yourself some time and grace, okay? I'm sorry it had to be this way for now." You give him a tiny, toothless smile. Eyes still shiny and watery from the crying you've just done. 

I'm sorry it had to be this way for now.

It repeats in your head over and over again because why does it feel like this is just how it's gonna be? Despite Namjoon reassuring you, despite San's explanation. Why does it just feel like a fleeting moment? A chapter in your book— a part that was never really supposed to last.

"Thank you." He gives you a smile.

"So, shifting to the program. I was thinking I could pull you into my lab and we can figure out things as time goes on? Explore other options if there's anything else you'd wanna explore." You nod. "You know there's other paths we can look into, or if you're totally fine with where you're at in my lab, then we can just stick with that plan."

"That sounds good. Thank you, Professor Kim."

"Unfortunately, like I mentioned, I can't have you interacting with Professor Choi. I'll have to make sure you don't take any of his classes or end up in any collaboration projects with him." You nod.

"Okay. I understand." 

"You'll have to halt all your work in his lab immediately. You can grab your things when you feel ready to, but I'll have you in my lab starting next week. I know it'll be a bit crazy with your rotation presentation, but I promise to make it a smooth transition." 

"Okay." You purse your lips. "I'm almost finished with my rotation presentation."

"That's great!"

"It'll just be us three?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry. It's not the usual format but I need the dean to see all the good work you do."

"Thank you. I appreciate your support."

"Do you have any questions so far? Any other concerns?" You think for a second before shaking your head.

"No."

"I'll send you some onboarding info and give you the contacts to some key people in my lab to help you get started. We can figure out your project and goals in a little more depth next week. Let's aim for a Monday morning meeting? 9am?"

"Good with me." 

"Thanks, Y/N. And please trust me when I say all is gonna be well."

"Thank you." 

"See you next week? Be sure to keep an eye out for my emails." You nod as you stand and tuck your bag closely to you.

"I will." You give him another smile before heading out of the door. Namjoon pinches the bridge of his nose and plops back down onto his chair, picking up his direct line to ring the dean's office phone. It rings for a few minutes before the dean is answering on the other end.

"Namjoon."

"Hey. Can we meet today to talk about what's been going on? I can be over in the next 15 minutes."

"I'm free, but I have a hard cut off in 45 minutes."

"That's plenty of time. I'll be there soon."

"See you." Joon hangs up and gathers his things, loosening his tie to get himself together for this meeting. He doesn't necessarily wanna do this, nor does he think he's ready for whatever the dean could unleash on him.

On you, on San.

But, he has a job to do and he'll make damn sure he gets his point across. He'll make damn sure he controls this well, and he'll make sure nothing happens to the both of you.

When he gets into the building and heads straight for the dean's office, he's greeted by the front desk and his executive assistant. The dean's assistant knocks on his door and pops her head in to give him a heads up about Namjoon's visit. It isn't long before she's gesturing for him to come into his office, stepping out and slowly shutting the door behind her once Namjoon's settled in the seat in front of him.

"Namjoon."

"Dean Louie." Namjoon clears his throat. "Can we discuss what's been going on? I've got a chance to review this more in depth."

"Great. So, tell me. What's with the anonymous tip? Is there truth behind San and his student's relationship?"

"No." The dean looks at him with his head cocked to the side. "Not at all."

"Namjoon. This isn't the time to play games."

"Who said I was?" Joon asks. "This is purely a rumor and there is nothing going on between the two of them. To keep things safe, I'll make sure they don't cross paths and interact on campus, and I'll make sure to work closely with her and keep her under my wing." Namjoon says.

"A rumor? That blew up around campus? What about Iseul and Yunho? Iseul told me about the happy hour event with San. All of this seems too good to be true, and if you're covering for them—" Namjoon cuts him off.

"Since when did Iseul and Yunho have their best interest in San? All I know is that they've always been the driving issue, not San." Namjoon looks at the dean confused. "I don't mean to be disrespectful, but a rumor is a rumor and I've gotten to the bottom of it. I talked to the both of them and they denied it through and through. The only reason why San got caught up in the whole happy hour business was because a postdoc was crossing the line and being really disrespectful to her. Any one of us would've done it had we caught it right away like San did." Namjoon continues to furrow his brows. "Now, please. I'd appreciate if we can move on." The dean sits back and lets out a hefty sigh.

"Go on."

"As stated in my email, she will do her rotation presentation in front of myself, you and San. After that, she will be removed from his lab and will be placed in mine. We'll have weekly check-ins, and I'll work with her to move her classes around and realign her priorities so that she and San don't cross paths in this program again."

"And what about this real estate in the building? I'm not going to give it over if this is what San plans to do—"

"I'm sorry, but this shouldn't define San and his work." Namjoon pauses. "He's not, alright? I already confirmed it was a rumor and there is nothing going on. No reason for you to pull back on that real estate deal especially when Jongho had nothing to do with this either and San has already explained his side and agreed to comply regardless. She'll be out of his lab." The dean gives Namjoon a stern look.

"You better make damn sure this doesn't happen again, Namjoon. No rumors, no slip ups. And you make sure those three stop causing trouble on campus. Iseul, Yunho and San. I don't care who did what and who is blaming who, I need this to stop. Now. We can't have childish, petty issues running amuck on this campus."

"You have my word."

"If I hear San and Y/N in the same sentence again, I can't promise it will be the same outcome."

"With all due respect, I need you to understand that whatever they do, whatever happens off campus, doesn't concern me and shouldn't concern you either. I cannot police their behavior and make them act a certain way off grounds. They are both grown, mature adults that can make decisions on their own, and you know that's unfair and very unrealistic." The dean doesn't say much. He mutters a few things under his breath before he's returning his attention to Namjoon.

"Not a damn word about them ever again, Namjoon. I mean it." The dean warns him again before settling into his seat and returning his attention to his desktop computer. Namjoon does a quick, silent bow before walking out, sighing loudly to himself as he's finally gotten that over with.

Still doesn't make it any easier knowing he had his friend make a very difficult decision that he did not wanna do.

He hopes in time, this could blow over and San could be happy again. Despite this hurdle, he's betting on it. On you and him.

Maybe when you come back together, circumstances will be different enough that it won't make the relationship seem as bad as it does right now.

"Shit." Namjoon clicks his teeth when he finally gets out of the building and breathes in the fresh air. He is exhausted, but his day isn't about to be over, no. On his way back to his office, he finds Yunho speaking to a few colleagues in the courtyard. He must have gotten out of a meeting and was walking his visitors out.

And Namjoon doesn't give a fuck. That visit is ending now.

"Professor Kim! It's an honor to see you in the flesh!" Namjoon smiles at his guests before returning the favor.

"Hi there." Namjoon does a curt bow. "Hope you've enjoyed your visit."

"Completely. We had a great collaboration meeting with Professor Jeong here, and he gave us a tour around."

"That's great, yeah." Namjoon smiles before looking at Yunho. "Can we talk in my office?" Namjoon says near Yunho's ear. "Now?"

"Sure." Yunho bids his last farewell before excusing himself and following Namjoon straight to his office. No words being spoken or shared. Namjoon shuts the door and sighs, looking at Yunho with his hand on his hip. "What's going on, Joon?"

"I'm just trying to understand why you and Iseul are trying so hard to ruin that man's reputation. The dean told me Iseul went over there to give him more of her little intel on San."

"I don't know what she said or did—"

"You still knew about it, didn't you?" Namjoon looks at him. "You knew this whole time Iseul was trying to raise hell about this and you let her."

"How is this not wrong?"

"No one said it wasn't wrong, Yunho!" Namjoon raises his tone. "There were just better ways to go about it than throwing San's name out there the way you two did. Just throwing him out there to the wolves without even knowing the full story. That's the problem!"

"I'm sorry, it doesn't seem like it now, but we were looking out for him and everyone else potentially involved."

"Except me. If you knew better, you both would've let me handle this accordingly. This doesn't just affect him, Yunho. It affects you both. It affects me. It affects Y/N, Jongho, everyone. Because you both didn't know how to be discreet about your plans to bring San down."

"It was never like that!"

"Then, what was it like? Tell me. As his colleague, as someone who acted purely for their own benefit, what was it like? As San's ex-bestfriend, what was it like?" Yunho doesn't respond. "This isn't high school, Yunho. I'm sorry, but the both of you need to grow up."

"We just tried to do the right thing and I don't take any of it back. If you fail to see that, then that's on you—"

"Oh, so approaching the dean to give him more talk in his ear with your so-called evidence before coming to me is doing the right thing?" Namjoon looks at him. "What was the goal here? What did this plan look like to you and Iseul?” He shakes his head. “No, actually, I don't wanna hear it, she already came into my office to talk my ear off about this. That should've been enough to let me handle it." Namjoon furrows his brows at him. 

"We just thought we were helping everyone—"

"Helping? Yourself or Iseul?" Namjoon shakes his head. "You know what, this is done. The damage is done. So, thank you and Iseul for your generous help." Yunho sighs. "Now that you've done all the talking, it's my turn." Joon steps closer to him. "As long as I'm around, I'll continue to keep the peace in this department, and that means I don't want you and Iseul meddling in San's personal matters ever again." Namjoon's jaw ticks as he and Yunho stare at each other in the brief pause that falls between them. "I don't want you meddling in Y/N's personal matters, I don't want you two doing anything on this campus besides running your labs and minding your own goddamn business. Do you understand me?" Namjoon places his hands on his hips while he and Yunho maintain eye contact. Yunho swallows thickly before nodding, digging his hands in his pockets.

"Yes sir."

"The next time you and Iseul wanna act like I don't know how to do my job, I promise I'll be good with reminding you."

—read 14.5 here

—taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @angelqueendom @barbielibra @brown88 @choisansplushie @yunhoswrldddd @hyukssunflower @vickykazuya @lucid-galaxys-world @jaytheatiny @pommelex @thechaotictheoryy @vixensss @santineez @nopension @domfikeluva @in-somnias-world @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @mountiiny @naoristerling @onmymymyway @thecutiepieme @wyrated

[mehiwilldoitlater]

Yandere destined one... deciding to courtnap his new obsession. I would love to see this!

(I don't write much destined one but I'm really liking his character!)

Two young children sat in the shadow of the apricot trees, fresh and juicy fruits in their hands while they spit away the seeds, playing and laughing. Your childish laugh echoed when you were able to defeat the young one beside you.

Your innocent and naive mind never found trouble in his look, after all, how many kids could have said to be friends with a demon monkey?

"You know," you said, chewing another fruit, "my big sister is going to get married soon, and they promised me to buy me a new dress!"

His eyes narrowed; his sharp canines bit in half the apricot with one strike.

"What does marry mean?"

"It's when two people love each other a lot and they start to live together!"

"Oh…we do the same! But without new dresses…" He looked at you, his tail swirled around. "Say, would you marry me when we get older?"

You inclined your head, confused by this question.

"But you're a monkey!"

"I know! So? Do you want to?'

"…ummm…"

You bit into the apricot again, clearly questioning if you wanted to get married in the first place.

///

The open window allowed a soft breeze to enter your room. Your small figure held the doll that your father gifted you for your birthday to help you sleep, especially since, for some reason, your sleep seemed quite disturbed and erratic.

Strange noises came from your room, alarming both of your parents and the servants.

Sometime you woke up, feeling a pair of eyes watching you. Sometimes you actually saw a figure, and every time your screams woke everyone, alerting them and making them come to you in fear.

During the day, when you were able to meet him, you told him about those nightmares, fearing what was happening in the security of your own house.

"I'm sure those are just nightmares! Who could even think to hurt you?"

And you wanted to believe him, but the truth was beyond everyone's imagination.

Your parents always told you to beware of yaoguais, especially the monkey ones.

"As simile and harmless as they look, they can be conniving and prone to lying! They have an eye for treasures and beauty, and they're ready to steal!"

But a child doesn't know better, and you thought of him as a friend. You played with him, shared snacks with him, never knew that he had a treasure in his mind all of this time, and, despite the age, he had already enough courage to try and steal it.

You wanted to be brave, a brave little girl, and, instead of screaming, that night you pointed the light of your candle closer to whatever was roaming in your room.

Your eyes met the one of your friends, occupied in preparing a bag, with your staff.

When you screamed, your parents finally met who was trying to steal you. He ran away, betrayed and in fear.

You never saw him again.

///

"And what did the fortune teller say about the date?"

"The ending of the month is a good date!"

The voices of your mother and your grandmother were just background noises in your head. Looking out of the window, your eyes fall on the old apricot orchard, with the white petals falling down like snowflakes. An inch of nostalgia and fear came back to you, remembering what memories held that place. Sitting on your chair, the breeze outside the window didn't give you the chance to be part of the discussion between your family, even if you were at the center of it.

"My child is getting married! Her father acts all grumpy about the expenses, but he's just so sad to see his princess become a bride!"

It wasn't like you didn't want to get married; to be fair, it wasn't in your mind at all, and you were mostly acceptable of the event.

Your spouse, the man who insisted with all his soul to marry you, was the child that came to you after the rumor started to spread.

The girl of the monkey, a girl that had almost been taken away from her house by a demon monkey.

The child came to you, curious about why a demon should want to take away such an ugly girl like you. You didn't know if you were ugly, but you knew that you didn't want to take that offense, and so you punched him. You two became friends; he started to play with you, allowing you to finally come out from the fear of meeting the monkey again, the fear of being captured.

You forgot about that fear…Maybe it was because you wanted it to be as far away as possible that you decided to accept marrying your childhood friend, even if, more than love, you felt for him a connection like with a brother.

Well, it wasn't like you had any friends or suitors since your background…Better accept it, you thought.

While looking at the orchard, something caught your eye, a glint, something shining between the flowers and the leaves. Strange, it wasn't the right time to tend to the trees… You tried to look better, your eyes glued on the plants, when the cranky voice of your grandmother called you back.

"Child, are you listening? "

"Uh?" You looked at her, completely spaced out. She sighed, massaging her face.

"Dear Y/N, how are you planning to be a good wife if you can't even listen to your old baba?" She smiled again, caressing your face gently. "We were talking about the decorations!"

And, by being dragged back in the discussion, you failed to notice a tail moving like a snake in the trees and the glint of a sword.

///

The smell of the powder and the incense was almost intoxicating; you had to plead with your mother to let the maiden open a window to allow some fresh air to clean the room. You were in a remote area of the house; no one could ever be able to trespass there, so why bother fearing being seen?

The red silks adorned your skin like the petals of a peony, the blue gems in your hair to symbolize the ever-l'astinenza phoenix, the crystal flowers decorating your neck and ears…

You needed to look better, the gentle ray of sun illuminating your face like no candle could even. You never were someone that proud or arrogant, but this time you had to admit it to yourself: you were standing.

You gasped; the makeup on your skin gave you an aura of elegance and refinement. It was like a princess was sitting in front of that mirror.

Your mother must have noticed that a sense of pride took over her.

"Oh…oh, my baby," her voice starting to crack, holding a handkerchief to stop the tears from ruining her makeup.

"Mom, please!"You tried to calm her down, "Don't cry!'

"Forgive me, my dear," she sighed, "it's just so much for me…"

You smiled; a sigh escaped from you. She's been crying since the news of your engagement, so overwhelmed by the fact that her little girl was now becoming the bride of a fine young man. The child that was marked as the chosen by the demon was finally getting free…

You caressed her shoulder, hugging her with fondness, looking at the maid that even she couldn't contain the happiness.

"Please," you said, trying to calm your mother, "can you take Mother to take some fresh air? I can take it from here…"

She nodded, helping your mother to stand up and leading her out of the room, closing the door behind her to give you some privacy.

You turned your face back to the mirror, smiling again at your reflection on the surface.

You were getting merry; soon you would leave the house of your parents to live with the man that promised to protect you from an old nightmare…

You felt a little bad, but you cared for him, and you knew you were holding nothing but affection towards him.

He could have asked someone else, and yet he chose you. He properly courted you… Yes, it was better like this…

You yawned a little, feeling a wave of exhaustion crashing on you all of a sudden. How strange…Well, you had woken up quite early for the preparations, and you had no time to take a pause from your big day. Sitting down in silence, the sweet smell of the incense was making you quite dizzy and sleepy.

Without even acknowledging your action, you allowed your head to repose on your arm, sustained by the wood of the vanity. You didn't plan to fall asleep, only to rest your eyes a little. You promised yourself to not ruin the dress or your makeup.

Why were you so sleepy? Was always the incense of this smell? You didn't know; you felt so tired right now.

How funny, three people in a room and no one noticed a hand from the window, pouring a strange powder in the incense burner.

You were so tired; the figure slipping in your room was probably a dream.

///

"Oh my, she looks like a goddess!"

"Is she a princess, Mama?"

"Not for us for sure!"

The giggling from the monkeys was whispers in the cavern, echoing through the walls alongside the sound of water drops and the small cascades that were born from the main stream and found passages in the mountain.

The small taunts and remarks were silenced in the ears of the now-grown monkey, far too occupied in admiring your beauty, now sleeping peacefully. Not anymore the small cub that tried several times to take you away once, too small and frail to actually do it. Now he was older, stronger, and bolder; he had found no problem in holding you in his arms, like he had found no problem in slicing the throat of the young maiden and bursting like an old pumpkin the head of your own mother.

Killing the maiden? It was precociousness; he needed no one to set an alarm when he was taking you with him on the mountain cave behind the waterfall of his homeland, but with your mother…that was personal.

He had such a hate towards your parents that he swore nothing could compare to it.

He could have accepted the fact that for some mortals, taking away their own mate could be seen in not such a good light, but he was a kid! Who could blame the ignorance of the youth?!

He was able to understand that, but it was when he had come back with his father, to discussing the proposition of letting you two get marry once you were both old enough. He was even able to accept the idea of just doing it in the mortal way, acting as a human; that was nothing if the price was having you at his side forever.

"Our daughter will never be the spouse of that monster."

Since he was a child, those words were like fire branded in his mind. It was at that time that he decided that no matter the cost, having you was his real mission. No matter what the Elder said, bringing back the old Sage was just another way to prove how your parents were wrong.

He had trained a lot, you see? He had become stronger, just to protect you. He hated the fact that your parents put so many guards near your house; he even suspected that they forced you to not set a foot in your sacred haven, the apricot orchard! Where you two met, when he had proposed the first time to marry you.

You were silent that day, but you were just shy, right?

His hands caressed your rosy cheeks, your sleeping form on the mattress of thousands of flowers to help you sleep, until at least he had done what was needed to be done.

He could have stayed there for days, admiring your innocent, relaxed face, your chest rising and falling alongside your breath, in those beautiful garments made for a bride, his bride.

But he still had some jobs to do, he told himself, sighing, holding his sword to his side and his staff in his hand.

He needed to take care of your father and to that…boy.

Since the day he started pestering, how much he wanted to rip his fingernails one by one, to pluck his eyes and tongue to make him eat them, to rip his guts from his body and strangle him with them, to make him suffer in every possible way, to try to take his beloved Y/N away from. Marry him? The thought made him sick, like he could have been even at your level! Your parents were fools to accept his proposals; they did so only to keep you two apart, of course!

But that was over; today your life as newlyweds was beginning. Kissing your forehead, he saw your sleeping body move a little. He hoped you were dreaming of him because he had dreamed of you for such a long time.

And so, after another loving glance, he started marching out of the cave, ready to make some more blood spill.

@thepoweroffiction @angryvampire @the-little-devils-chaos

@nerium-lil

@phoenixeclipse-lmkau @miifu666 @sleepingdramaqueen @whitefox2k18 @ladydoe8 @jeminiikrystal @theactualgir @birdioarts

@jssy96 @silenthopper @nezukos-number1fan

@blackknight-kai

[jeongsoob]

not even sometimes ᯓ 𝚌𝚜

SFW version of my fic posted on @heechwe .ᐟ

୨୧ pairing: choi san x fem!reader ୨୧ word count: 3.2k ୨୧ genre: fluff, sprinkles of angst, suggestive (just in last scene) ୨୧ tags: neighbor to lovers au, healthy communication for the win ୨୧ synopsis: You've never been good at planning for the unexpected, much less a new neighbor. But the man in question may just love that about you, among other things you didn't see in yourself to begin with. ⟢ AUTHOR'S NOTE: This fic is a remaster of an old fic I wrote years ago for a member of NCT, the original title being "Where We Begin." Seeing as I am not following that group anymore and I thought it'd be fun to polish up some old work, what the hell. Thank you to my betas for reading this one, @prkhaven @lovetaroandtaemin @tinycatharsis @jjunbug @innocygnet, I love you lots. Title inspiration from "Sometimes" by Ariana Grande!

Some people know the instant something begins, the start of something new brimming with possibilities palpable within the surrounding air. 

For you, it’s not that simple. 

It seems some things come and go in your life without warning or realization. You’ve fought enough for things to stay or leave for so many years that now it’s almost a godsend to lack that kind of perception. Whether it be for a new job opportunity, an unexpected act of kindness, or a person, it’s all the same. Beginnings can be as subtle as a wisp of wind through your window, or as abrasive as thunderclaps that rattle an entire room. Regardless, you’ve not caught on.

Lucky for you, Choi San isn’t subtle. With a body like his, how could he be?

The first time San greets you, he’s carrying an ottoman on his shoulder and a football in his hand. The early Saturday morning permeates through the hallway window, emphasizing his stark black hair and encroaching size, but he’s so beautifully smiling you felt nothing but warmth for the man in front of you. Across from your apartment sits his door halfway open, giving you ample opportunity to notice the manila moving boxes crowding the space of his new home.

The place had been empty for almost a month before San, the pain of Jeongin saying goodbye fresh every time you came home. The kid was a hilarious neighbor and a great friend, and while he didn’t leave your life, watching him go after three years left a noticeable pang of sadness. Having a new neighbor so soon felt foreign, unwelcome. But once San drops the ottoman carefully onto the small span of tile between your apartments and extends a hand, you know you can get used to the change if the new neighbor in question is this open, welcoming, and drop-dead gorgeous.

You give San your name with a smile, a soft yet large hand enveloping your smaller one. “You’ll love it here. I’ve been here for almost five years, never a problem.”

“That’s perfect. I’ve been couch-surfing for two months, so anything is better than my friends’ smelly socks and booty calls.”

You giggle, the sound reverberating off the highway walls. It almost makes you forget your choice of clothing, the realization suddenly hitting you.

You love your duck-patterned pajama bottoms and tattered college sweatshirt, but the clothing isn’t exactly the best outfit to meet new people in. Then again, nobody dresses up to run downstairs and get their weekly mail anyway, even if there’s a chance of running into someone as handsome as your new neighbor. “Sorry I’m not that presentable. I didn’t know you’d be coming today.”

“It’s no problem. I should’ve moved in yesterday, but I had an emergency. Well, if you could call a friend needing a three-page recipe an emergency.” San grins and shrugs, twirling the ball between his hands.

You giggle, pointing a finger towards the football. “So, you play sports and cook?”

“Not really, just a parting gift from my friend Woo for the recipe I owed him. I guess it’s also a housewarming gift‌, considering.”

You nod slowly and begin your trek down the hallway and to the mailroom, remembering your initial goal when you were leaving ten minutes ago. “Well, San, if you need help unpacking, just give me a knock!”

“I definitely will!” San waves goodbye and offers you the widest smile you’ve seen yet, saccharine in a way you didn’t realize you needed so early in the morning. He enters his new apartment without another turn of his head, while you wonder if this is the moment of realization the guy across the hall will be more than a stranger. Perhaps even a welcome addition to your life.

You open up your door a day later to find San with an inquisitive pout, replacing the mesmerizing smile he left you with. His hands respectively hold a large takeout bag and a tray of two drinks, and you guess what he’s after before he says the words. 

“Don’t tell me,” you say. “You need help unboxing.”

“Yes and no.”

“Oh?” You ask, partially shocked.

“So, I know you probably offered to help me unpack since I have the ‘new neighbor’ card. Which is great, since I actually do need help today. But, it would be rude to not offer food for your services, so it can be part moving part…treating a cute girl to lunch.” San tips the bag up with a grin, making you chuckle. “What do you say, neighbor?

As he waits for your answer, you discover Choi San is already too sweet to say no to. He asks so earnestly, and he’s feeding you, doing more than most of your exes ever did. The response easily slips off of your tongue. “That sounds great. Lemme just get my keys.” Following him into his apartment, you try to calm the staccato of your heart to a normal pace.

Your new neighbor truly has no shame as the two of you open all of his remaining boxes together, San confessing the origins of certain items you take out with a questioning, raised eyebrow. While he folds his clothes and sets them aside to move to his bedroom later, you tell him about your degree and how you can’t wait for the spring semester to end, your last step towards graduating in the summer.

You snap silly photos of him and take a few together to capture the moment; he ruffles your hair in a few and makes the resulting photos blurry, but you don’t mind. When you’re not unboxing and discussing your comprehensive histories, you eat pineapple fried rice and dumpling soup from the takeout containers and sip flat sodas you don’t bother replacing. The clear attachment you’ve already developed with San is worth drinking a watered-down soda.

“What do you do in your free time?” you ask before downing what’s left in your can.

“I work with my friends in a small studio downtown. It’s not much, but we love it and it helps pay for this.” He gestures to the apartment with dramatic grandeur, almost knocking over his drink. “That’s actually why I’ve been moving most of this by myself. Before you helped, I mean. There’s this production issue we glossed over, and my buddy Mingi wants it smoothed out before the song’s released.”

“Gotta love the  music life.” You sigh. “The arts are tough.”

“Yeah, I do love it. I don’t know where I’d be without it, to tell you the truth.” San chuckles, the sound rumbling in his throat.

You pat his shoulder with your hand. “I’m sure you’re doing great. You seem like a person who can find fun in anything. With your work, I know your friends need that.”

“Thanks,” he replies. San dips a hand through his hair, hoping to conceal his red face alongside his aggressively beating heart. “I bet you’re someone who keeps a lot of people calm and…I don’t know, grounded? You just give off this vibe like you know what you’re doing.”

You laugh again, pressing your empty soda can to your chest. “You’re probably the first person that’s ever thought about me that way.” Your friends and family often sing their praises for you, but what would get San’s compliment laughed out of any room is the fact he thinks you have a consciously prepared bone in your body.

You can barely give your best friends proper preparation for outfit choices, much less prepare for bigger life events. It’s what your exes have harped on for ages, your impulsiveness and second-nature to lead with your heart rather than your head, your ultimate downfall. How did anyone, especially yourself, expect you to go against habit and commit to anything? If there was an option to have someone spell it out for you, you would choose that in a heartbeat. To this day, sometimes it feels like you stumble around for answers, only doing things halfway and never with full intention.

You know these things about yourself like the back of your hand.. Yet, you can’t contain the flutter in your heart from San being so sure of you already. It may just be the takeout, the fullness of his stomach making his brain fuzzy, but you don’t care. You appreciate it regardless.

“That’s a good thing, though,” you mumble, his stare tickling the edges of your skin.

“Well, I’m flattered.” He winks at you, the gesture only solidifying every positive thought you have about him. He opens another box and removes the bubble wrap inside, and in that moment, you believe a piece of your heart silently belongs between the creases of his smile.

By the time you finish, the sun is setting, and you’re sitting next to San with your backs drooping against his couch. You rub your belly in slow, tiny circles, full from the food and copious amount of snacks you munched on while moving the smaller trinkets and furniture.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve known the pretzels and gummy worms would make you sick.” He pouts, staring down at your slumped body.

“No, it’s okay. Just another minute and I’ll be out of your hair.”

“You’re not in my hair. It’s too fantastic to be disturbed like that..” His confidence can be seen from space, you think as the corners of your lips rise. Without warning, San sets his head in your lap as his eyelashes flutter to a close. He’s burly at first glance, but you realize as he snuggles into your body how you fit together perfectly in this way. “I mean it. I’ve had a lot of fun today.”

Instinctively, you swipe one hand through his bangs, and he takes your fingers between his own. “We just met, but it’s like you make things slow down. I’m not running around the place like an idiot or saying the wrong things for the first time. Does that make sense?”

You close your eyes too, letting the words rumble around in your head. Responding to them with the peace within your smile and a squeeze of your hand, you know he’s smiling too without having to look down at him. “It does.”

In an array of textbooks, highlighters, and article clippings, San swipes through the words with a blue pen to mark important information for later. While it’s adorable watching him as he works, he has little to no foresight on the weekly topic in your Greek literature course.

Chan and Jisung, your study partners, left hours ago, but you stayed stuck with a pile of additional reading your professor dumped on you, including the play you still had to read. 

The night seemed to only be beginning for you, and you could only give your friends a sad smile as you walked them out of your apartment. With perfect timing, San popped his head out with a smirk, his concern giving way when he noticed the defeat in your posture.

“Can I help?” were the first words out of his mouth as you were on the verge of tears, your mountain of a neighbor suddenly becoming your shining light through the storm of academic writing and assignments.

He definitely isn’t helping in the way he imagined, but watching his eyebrows furrow in concentration and catching the delight on his face when he marks the “right” sentence makes the hours feel less tedious.

“I mean, why does Euripides have to be such a tragic writer? There’s nothing wrong with writing cheerful things now and then,” San says as he drops the pen onto the paper. Rolling closer to your spot on your bedroom floor, he pouts and puts his hands underneath his chin.

“Well, San, since he wrote tragic Greek plays, I think he was just creating what he knew. Like Sophocles, he just kept his daily life in mind when he was writing.” You smile to yourself, skimming the lines of the last act within your textbook.

“Excuse me, Smarty. I’ll just nap while you do your own notes, then.” He leans against your thigh, the back of his head mushed into the fabric of your shorts.

You scoff. “I just read the materials and introduction! You give me too much credit.”

One of his eyes pops open, followed by the crossing of his arms. “You still know things! Sometimes, you really don’t see that. And I’ve been your neighbor for what, a few weeks now? Give yourself more credit, angel.”

You refuse to acknowledge the pet name, knowing he’ll sense the change in your body if you do. Going for a lighthearted response, you stick your tongue out in his direction. “Trust me, you give enough credit to yourself for the both of us.”

San says your name and sits up, mirroring your crossed-legged position. “Maybe I do, but only because I know how it feels to not give yourself the self-assurance you deserve.”

You gape in mock surprise. “Choi San, not sure of himself? I never would have guessed.”

“Yes, I’m not flawless.” He laughs and knocks his fist softly into your shoulder. “When I was younger, sometimes people thought it was all an act, me being so ‘full’ of myself, all the time. In a way, it was just to pretend that there weren’t times when I didn’t feel confident in what I could do and if I could do it. It still happens, but not as much as before.”

“That’s hard to believe.” You drop your head, staring at your hands in your lap.

He taps his fingers under your chin. “It’s true. Some days, it can be so difficult to believe you’re capable. But you are, in so many ways. Anyone who loves you could see that tenfold. But in the end, the person who needs to see that first is you. Nobody else.”

You wipe away the tears that are  prepared to stream down your face, knowing it is ridiculous to cry at the comforting advice San offers. But he says all the right things every time you need them and every time you come across all the hidden fears and self-critiques you harbor.

“Are you crying,” he asks, lips curling into a frown. He presses a hand to your cheek, prepared to catch any tears before they fall, but you shake your head softly.

“I’m not sad, I promise. I just—I meant it. You give me more credit than I ever give myself, and I know it’s a bad habit, but it feels good having someone else notice…how hard it can be, even if I’m still trying.”

His thumb rubs back and forth across the apple of your cheek, sentiment and patience etched into expression. “Someone has to, don’t they?”

Staring into his eyes, you notice how much they shine, even in the dim lighting of your desk lamp. You chastise yourself for never noticing how brown and bright they were before. With a tiny vow, you promise to admire them for as long as you can, whether out loud or in silence. As long as San feels admired in the way he always should be.

The twinkle in his irises reflects in his close-lipped smile. You don’t stop to think as you lean in to kiss the sharp line of his cheek, knowing you need him as much as you need his words. He parts his mouth in shock, the hand on your cheek still. “Thank you, Sannie.”

When you rest your head on your pillow to sleep hours later, you still feel the shape of him on your lips and the fondness of his stare on your skin.

A knock on your door one Sunday afternoon reveals San with one of his hands cut up, a few scrapes visibly bleeding.

“Shit,” you curse, inspecting the cuts with your hands. He winces when you touch a deeper one, a hiss whistling through his teeth. “I’m sorry. What happened?”

“I dropped some glass cups. I didn’t know what happened to my broom, so I thought picking it up would be fine if I was careful,” he mumbles, obviously embarrassed about the mishap.

You press a hand to his shoulder as a signal for him to step inside your apartment. He does, observing the living room as you run to get supplies from your bathroom. The fuzzy, polka dot blanket draped across your even fuzzier, gray couch and the rerun of some 90s comedy makes him smile to himself. How can someone be so kind and cute? San thinks to himself.

You’ve both hung out many times since you helped him unpack, especially in your bedroom, but he’s never noticed the smaller things in your place. Seeing the ins and outs of your life in the decor, the few dishes in your sink, family photos by the door, and pens left on the counter, he doesn’t feel like he’s intruding. Rather, he’s noticing the pieces of you and storing them away to remember later. That’s how the ache inside his chest would describe it. For now, at least.

“I have band-aids, ointment, and gauze,” you note the supplies in your hand as you make it back to him. You’re no stranger to mishaps like accidental bruises and bumps, so coming as prepared as possible for this one facet of everyday life is doable, even for you. “Sit down, Sannie.”

When you guide both of you to the couch, you drape the blanket across his lap and pause the show on your television. You hold up the first-aid kit, grabbing his attention and smiling behind the box. “Ready to be patched up?”

“Readier than ready.”

The minutes pass quietly as San watches the rest of the episode, and you treat his smaller cuts with small circular band-aids. You wrap the deeper gashes up with pale gauze, rubbing some cream on the wounds to start the healing process. As you grab more of the ointment from the tin, you realize San being hurt in any capacity is painful, unbearable even, for you as well as him. While you have more than an inkling of what that means, you push it out of your mind to focus on your table-side healing.

When he’s patched up, you flick his wrist. “You’re good to go, sir.”

He grins in response. “You’re the best. Thank you.”

“It’s nothing. That’s what neighbors are for right?” The word feels too simple to describe San and what he means to you.

“Definitely,” he murmurs. Your faces rest less than a foot apart from each other, knees slightly touching. 

In any instance, you’d have backed away quickly and given your new friend and neighbor a proper send-off back to his apartment. However, he’s so warm, inviting, here. It has to be ridiculous to feel so safe in his presence this soon, but San is the least ridiculous person you know. 

He can be vain, more confident in himself than the average person is, and satisfied with his own absurdity. Maybe those things turn some people off, but they’re only a few things that you adore about him, the exterior pieces to a beautiful interior. And adore you do, maybe too much and too fast in the month that you’ve known him. But if someone calls you senseless for that, then senseless is what you are.

When you kiss his lips, pressing your mouth firmly to his, you feel senseless. All of your feelings rotate around him, none of your own to pull from as you want nothing but him to spread inside of you. His kindness, his patience, his love, you want it all. 

Once you separate, your heart and mind still punch-drunk on his lips, San breaks the silence by saying, “So, I’m not the best cook, but you deserve some sort of meal after all of this.” He kisses your cheek before focusing his gaze back on you. “And I may or may not be collecting my repayment after helping you with those articles right now so you say yes.” He grins again, charming and electrifying. “What do you say?”

“We just kissed and you think I’ll say no to that?” you ask with a giggle. 

“I’m just making sure!”

You’ve never been observant. Some cues go past your head entirely, and you know this. But San’s skin, so comfortably close to yours, sends the gentlest calm across yours like the familiar prickles of gooseflesh. You can see him and read his obvious intentions, and you know now you’re ready to welcome the start of something new with open arms. There’s no right or wrong to fear, no choice to be any less certain about. It’s easy to feel that way when sure of him when he looks at you the way he does? “I’d love to have a meal with you, San.”

Two months pass, and as San’s hand draws circles into the divot of your hip, you remember that tender stillness you felt after you first met, the first time you hung out together in what San called “your first not-first date” which you lovingly shoved him for, the first night you spent together, and all the dates that followed. Most important, that stillness never disappeared or faded into the background. Not since the first time you saw him, not when he told you it was more than fine to leave most of your stuff at his place (especially your polka dot blanket), and not when he told you he loved you hours ago.

“What are you thinking about?” San pulls you from your thoughts with his question, his whisper raspy. He kisses your bare shoulder, the soft press of his lips warming you to the bone.

“You.”

“Oh? Only good things I hope.” He smirks, trailing his kisses up to your neck. “Or bad, I prefer both.” You giggle at the few swipes of his tongue on the hollow of your throat, but you tug on the ends of his hair to pull his attention back to your face.

“The best things. How I still get excited every time I see you, and how easy it is to make you smile. How you make me feel as though I can do anything, because I have all the power in the world to do it.” You stroke the corners of his mouth, pulling them up and down to make him laugh. “How much I love you.”

In his laughter, he wraps his hands around your waist, pulling you closer. Peppering his face with kisses, the two of you fall deeper inside the sheets, the only space in the world meant for the two of you. The smell of his cologne lingers on his body, your favorite smell. You breathe it in as he says, “I love you too.” He says the words in between more sets of kisses stamped into your face and neck.

The sunlight peeks in through San’s curtains when you retreat from underneath the comforter, the signal of a new day. Another set of beginnings and discoveries to look for, new realizations to be had. Only, this day is different. You no longer fear as you once did. If either you or San aren’t looking close enough, the other person will be there to help put the pieces together. Other days, you know you’re strong enough now to figure it all out on your own, just like San is. The two of you can be as slow or fast-paced as you want to, impulses or plans be damned. If that’s what love is supposed to be, you never want it to pass you by again.

@gyubakeries @loserlvrss @jjunberry @lovetaroandtaemin @xomakara @pars-ley @addictedtohobi @wonkieriduel @innocygnet @filmnings

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊: @kstrucknet @k-films @kvanity-main @lapydiaries @moadiarynet @pirateeznet @sweetvenomnet @onedoornet @deoboyznet @violetanet @whipped-kpop-creators

𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳 𝙼𝚈 𝙾𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁 𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙺𝚂 𝘰𝘳 𝙹𝙾𝙸𝙽 𝙼𝚈 𝚃𝙰𝙶𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃𝚂 © 𝖠𝗅𝗅 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗒 𝖩𝖤𝖮𝖭𝖦𝖲𝖮𝖮𝖡; 𝖣𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗂𝖻𝗎𝗍𝖾 𝗈𝗋 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍.

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Normally Lucifer wouldn't care about the reason why someone wanted his toys. But something about this one just.... It didn't sit right.

When they got to the house, it was picture perfect. He was okay and was about to deliver them before he peaked in the big pane window out front.

The two men and the little girls looked so happy.

Angel: This might be out of turn Lu.... But this one might not be worth it.

Lucifer blinked and his heart ached, he could see himself, Adam, Charlie, and Abel being a family spending Christmas together, him being gifted a little rubber duck and all of them sharing a group hug.

He wanted that. Domestic life with Adam and his son with him and Charlie.

Lucifer: ...... Let's go. This isn't worth it.

Bitch wasn't even doing it to make her kids happy but to be petty.

They left and by the time they got back to the office Adam wasn't there, but that bitch was.

Lucifer: Where the hell is Adam!?

Karen scoffed: That fat cry baby left an hour ago.

Lucifer glared, NO ONE insults his boyfriend! So he personally threw her out.

He was shocked when Abel opened the door and came in.

Abel: Dad!? Where's my dad?

Lucifer: Abel? He's not here, what-?

Abel: Where is he!?

Lucifer: ..... I think I know.

-

Adam was at his house..... Though it didn't feel like his house. His garden had seen better days and it felt so cold being here.

Steve just happened to be outside and snuck up behind him: Oh Adam, how the mighty have fallen.

Adam glared facing him: Let me see my son, NOW!

Steve only laughed: You are so pathetic! You've lost your home, your plants, and your precious little son all you-

Adam was so fucking angry he punched Steve in the nose and it lit a fire in him to keep beating him up. Fucker had it coming. He even smashed a dead potted plant over his head.

He went to punch him again but Steve caught his fist and shoved Adam against the wall, he'd be lying if he never wanted to fuck this sad man.

Steve: I'll pay for that!

Adam: Do it. Pussy.

The light in his life

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

Adam groaned as he finally woke up from another barely restful sleep. He sat up and ran a hand through his short, chocolate locks tiredly before sitting up and getting out of bed. His mind and body went into autopilot as he took a shower, cleaned his face and teeth, and took his medication before finally donning a robe and heading downstairs to get some breakfast.

He automatically grimaced as he heard his wife's laughter before he even entered the kitchen. He saw Lilith pacing as he animatedly talked to a friend on the phone. However, her face stained when she noticed his presence.

She turned her back on him and continued her chat. Adam felt his irritation stir within him as he grabbed a mug and poured some coffee in it.

Abel: Morning Dad!

His lips pulled upwards at the sound of his seventeen-year-old. He turned around and saw his son eating on the marble counter. His smile doubled as soon as he saw Abel's.

Adam: Morning bud.

He went to sit down next to him and try to enjoy his morning with his son. Keyword, tried. He was just about to read the paper when he was barraged by Lilith.

Lilith: Well, I'm off I'll be gone for the majority of the day, but I'll be back here around four thirty or so to pick you up. When I get back, I want you both in your suits got that?

Abel: Yes mom.

Abel replied before going back to his breakfast. Adam sat there confused, however, picking him up and Abel to where?

Adam: Um Lilith where we are going tonight?

Lilith pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed heavily: Adam I thought I told you this already. Tonight is the company party.

Adam: No, that's not right the company's anniversary isn't until a few months from now.

She narrowed her eyes at him and crossed her arms: No, this is the anniversary of when your parents' company and my parent's company merged. Don't you remember? Because before that little contract was sealed another contract was sealed between us.

Adam knew exactly what she was getting into, she was talking about their marriage. About seventeen years ago Lilith's parents were having a rough patch with their own company. Even if their business was still lucritive in certain areas.

They decided to get help from Adam's parents, and they said that they could simply merge their companies as one. That way they would all still have rights to them as one day their children would too.

However, there was only one way for a merge such as this to happen. One minute Adam was being introduced to a beautiful girl the next he was standing at the altar saying I do. What made it even worse was that they were only eighteen at the time.

No, the worst possible outcome is being married to this beautiful yet cynical creature. At least there was one small yet noticeable light that came from this, Abel.

Adam was pulled out of his thoughts by his wife snapping her sharp, well-manicured fingers in his face.

Lilith: Ahem, as I was saying since this is our "family" company party Jr. is allowed to attend. But I want you to make sure he stays on his best behavior for the ENTIRE evening. Is that clear?

Adam: Crystal.

Lilith: Good, then I'm off.

Adam's hardened gaze followed her retreating form as she left. Not even bothering to at least say goodbye to their son. Adam started to take in big gulps of his drink, trying to ready himself for the day.

--

Adam downed yet another glass of champagne trying to keep himself busy as he watched the guests mingle about. Abel was not that far away talking to a few of the employees' children. Though Abel tended to be on the shyer side his friendly character always brought others to him.

Adam: (mutters) At least you're having a good time.

The sound of a familiar voice drew Adam's attention to Lilith.

Adam: (mutters): And so are you.

She wasn't that far from him yet didn't take any note or acknowledgment of him there. Or maybe she did, and she simply didn't care. Adam however did take notice in the topic she and her friends were discussing.

Him.

Despite everything in him screaming to walk away he got a little closer to them and listened closely.

Stella: So, tell me darling what is he like in bed? Is he at least desirable then?

Lilith: Ugh, don't make me laugh he is HORRENDOUS under the sheets. It's like he has no idea what to even do with it. And it was one thing back before he started taking those damn happy pills. Because at least then he wasn't bad to look at. Now every single time I have to lay with him it's like a walrus is trying to squash me!

Her friend let out a haughty laugh: Oh, I can't even imagine the horror of that brute naked let alone actually bedding someone.

Lilith: What makes it worse is that he practically has breasts now. Breasts Stella! But that's not even the absolute most dreadful part of being married to him.

Stella: Oh? What is then?

Lilith: I have to do all the work! I run his company; I run the house, and he even wants me to run him ragged in the sheets!

Stell: (gasps) You're not suggesting-

Lilith: Yup! From the very beginning, he had me do all the work while he lay there on his back like a log. A true bore and pathetic excuse for a human being. I'm glad I only had to birth one child so I could stop pretending to want to bed him.

The rest of the conversation was drowned out as stared down at himself. A hand going to his extended waistline and grimacing. He really had let himself go hadn't he?

Retracting the hand back he used it to scrub over his face in an attempt to stop the tears from flowing. Instead, he decided to find something stronger than champagne to drown himself in.

[fizzyapplecandy]

The one with the vampire royals and their doll - Part 5

Previous parts can be found here

Ateez Seonghwa X Hongjoong X Reader

Genres and warnings: vampire Matz x human reader, strangers to lovers, poly relationship, fluff, angst, mild smut, mature language, talking about blood

Word count: 2.5k

You share a special moment with Seonghwa, and he barely holds back his hunger

"So, where are you taking me?"

It was still surreal that you were sitting in a ten thousand dollar car with an ethereal man who not only gifted you jewelry, but he was taking you on a mysterious outing. Seonghwa's lips pulled back in a smirk and he glanced at you.

"To my favourite place in this town." he says.

You frown. "Okay, again, that doesn't tell me much."

He chuckles. "You're just impatient. I don't want to spoil it."

You let a comfortable silence envelope you after that. You didn't want to pry because he obviously wanted to do something nice for you. It was almost dark outside, and the stars were starting to appear in the sky. It's difficult to see them clearly this time of year because it was slowly starting to get cloudy. You didn't like fall and winter because you were always cold, and there is never anything fun to do.

The car stopped and Seonghwa lightly grazed your arm to get your attention.

"We're here. We just have to take a short walk through the trees."

Looking out the window you noticed you were in a wooded area on the upper part of the town. It wasn't really a place you ever went to, and you were kind of nervous. As if he could sense your jitters, he put a finger under your chin and turned your head towards him.

"Hey now doll, we don't have to go if you don't want to. It would be a shame though, but I respect your wishes."

You sighed. "It's not that I don't want to. It's just..."

He nodded for you to go on.

"I don't know you that well, and were about to walk into the woods."

Seonghwa chuckled, caressing your cheek.

"Oh doll... You're a smart one, I give you that. You can text your little friend if you want, send him your location."

You lightly leaned into his touch, and he seemed pleased with your actions, even if you were unaware of them.

"I'll... I'll do that. Thank you. It's nothing personal really, just a precaution if you will."

Shooting a quick text to Yeosang, you told him you were done and the both of you got out of the car. It was pretty chilly now, and you didn't take your jacket with you this morning. Seonghwa caught the sound of your teeth clattering, and he felt sad for a second. If you were the same as him, you would never feel cold, hungry, tired... The worst part of it was that he couldn't warm you with his body, seeing as his skin remained ice cold for hundreds of years now.

He could, however, offer you his blazer.

You felt something drop around your shoulders and looked at Seognhwa, now only clad in a dress shirt.

"Seonghwa! You'll freeze in that! Here, take this back."

His hands stopped yours from pulling the garment off, and he arranged it to cover you again. He couldn't keep his hands off you tonight, because his fingers were caressing your cheek again.

"Don't worry about me. Please, I insist." Without waiting for your reply, he took you by the hand and started walking down a pebbled path.

"This way, my dear. It's just a short walk."

You were surprised how well he navigated through the rough terrain, managing to stay as graceful as a swan, while you stumbled on your feet quite a few times.

"When I feel overwhelmed with the world, I usually come here to feel some peace. Nobody besides Hongjoong knows about this spot." He glanced at you before continuing.

"I hope you can use it when some days get tough. I also hope you think of me."

Your cheeks warmed, and you smiled at him. Before you could say anything, Seonghwa moved a tree branch and your breath got caught in your throat.

You were up on a cliff, the town you live in lighting up in the distance. When you looked up, the stars could be seen as clear as day. The sky was truly beautiful at night, and you missed being able to count the shining diamonds up there.

"Do you like it?"

Seonghwa now stood by your side, hand still holding onto yours, and he gazed down on you with a twinkle in his eyes.

You swallowed, breaking out of your daze.

"It's... It's beautiful, Seonghwa. I can see why you like it."

The wind picked up a bit, and seeing how you were up on a cliff, you felt shivers going down your spine. Seonghwa stepped behind you, letting go of your hand in favour of wrapping both arms around your shoulders. You were now pressed against him, but you had to admit it didn't help in bringing you warmth. You didn't want to say anything because you knew he'd move away.

You almost forgot about an important thing - he was married.

"Seonghwa... Are you sure this is okay?" You were too afraid to look up at him, so you just continue staring ahead at the bright lights shining from your town.

"Why wouldn't it be? We're just sharing some... Body heat." It felt almost unnatural for Seonghwa to say something like that, but he couldn't stop himself from wrapping you in his embrace. He could be selfish for a moment, you'd warm up in the car.

"Yeah, but... I mean..." You pointedly stared at the precious ring you gave up not so long ago, and he caught up quickly.

"Oh! You're worried about Hongjoong?" He chuckled.

His head was now perched on your shoulder, his arms tightening around you. He slowly came closer to your ear, and the shivers you felt weren't from the cold now.

"To be honest doll... He'd probably be jealous of me right now."

"Jealous?!" You almost shouted.

"That's right." He said.

He was still too close, but you mustered the courage to turn your head and look at him. His eyes were half closed, and his gaze made you feel shy all of the sudden.

"Why would he... I mean... He's your..."

You stumbled with your words, feeling him squeeze you even closer.

Seonghwa leaned his forehead against yours, and you stopped breathing for a second.

"My husband, yes. But you... You're our doll now. At least, we hope you want to be. However, I think he needs to be present for that conversation. For now... Just enjoy the moment. Don't worry your pretty head about it."

You managed to nod, not understanding a word he meant, but you were too frozen to react. He was close, too close. His eyes darted over your face, stopping when he reached your lips. You unconsciously licked your lips, and you swear his mouth twitched. He took a deep breath, and you didn't expect his next move at all.

Seonghwa pushed you away, a bit harshly, and turned around. You could see his whole body shaking, but you had no clue what to do.

"Seonghwa? Are you okay? Did I do something?"

He rolled his shoulders before slowly turning towards you again. His expression was now blank, but he still reached for your hand. It seemed to calm him a bit, and he cleared his throat.

"Sorry, doll. Maybe the cold got to me suddenly. Should we go back now? You must be tired."

His tone seemed almost emotionless now, but you couldn't figure out what happened in the last few minutes to change the atmosphere so much.

"Oh... You're right. Here, take your blazer back, I'll manage until we get to the car."

He shook his head, his tense expression lightening slightly.

"No, doll. Keep it around you, you need it more. Come now, let's head to the car."

Without another word, he slowly guided you down the path to his car. There was definitely something up with him, but you didn't want to agitate him with your questions. Maybe you said something wrong? Maybe he realised it wouldn't be okay to stay this close to you because of Hongjoong?

"Now where did you wander off?"

His voice brought you out of your head and into the present again. You stumbled a bit on your words.

"I-I... Well... I-Is.."

His hands grabbed yours and he crouched to be at eye level.

"Breathe. I told you, everything is fine. Now, get inside before you turn into a popsicle." He chuckled.

"Although, I wouldn't mind a sweet treat."

You probably looked like a fool trying to decipher his words because he burst into laughter.

"Oh doll... You sweet, sweet thing."

He opened the door for you and guided you inside, buckling your seatbelt again. You were too out of it to register him until he started the car.

You fidgeted with your fingers until his palm covered your shaking hands.

"I want you to know that I had a wonderful time. I am delighted you loved the spot, and you can use it whenever you feel overwhelmed, or you just want to run away from the world. I'd be happy to join you anytime, Hongjoong as well."

Your head turned to glance at him, and he had a far more relaxed expression on his face now. It seemed like the tension melted, and you were glad it didn't last long.

"Thank you, Seonghwa. I would love to go there again sometime."

The ride turned peaceful afterwards, and you felt at ease with his big hand wrapped around both of yours. You kept it light with the small talk, enjoying getting to know him a bit more. He sometimes talked as if he came out of a regal era, but it suited him. Hongjoong was definitely the more relaxed out of the two, and you could see how they complimented each other with their behaviours.

Your building came into view after some time, but it felt too soon for you. Seonghwa seemed to be on the same page.

"Here we are doll. I must say, I miss you already."

"I haven't even left the car yet." You said, followed by a chuckle.

"Doesn't matter. I know you're about to leave, and that's unfortunate. Say doll..."

"Yes?"

"Can we arrange a date with you soon? My husband and I are getting a bit impatient." He smiled after asking you.

You frowned a bit. "You both keep calling it a date, but okay."

Seonghwa lightly squeezed your hands as if to say 'It is', but you didn't want to divulge in that topic.

"I already told him I have some plans this Saturday-"

"-Then we can do it on Sunday."

You went silent for a moment before bursting into genuine laughter. It was like you were a teenager all over again.

"Eager, are we?" The laughter died down as his face came close to yours again.

His nose almost touched yours before we shrugged.

"What can I say, you mesmerize us that much."

The blush on your cheeks was instantaneous, and Seonghwa lightly brushed over one with his fingers.

"What a beauty..." He almost sighed out of pleasure.

If he hadn't moved first, you'd probably still be in that position, too shy to do anything.

"Now, off you go. You need to warm up and get some sleep. Hongjoong will be here in the morning to take you to work, I'll pick you up after."

You opened your mouth to protest, but closed it after he held a finger in the air.

"No, no. I don't want to hear a word. Let us do this, we want it."

Your mouth closed, and honestly you were past the point of arguing about it anymore. Accepting their offer was the easiest way to go.

"Okay, If that's what you want. Tell Hongjoong I said hi, and I'll see you both tomorrow."

Seonghwa reached over to unclasp your seatbelt, and he took the chance to caress your cheek again. He couldn't stop touching you, and you weren't complaining, so he took it as a good sign.

"See you tomorrow, doll. We hope you give us an answer for Sunday."

"Y-Yeah. Bye, Seonghwa." Before you could say something embarrassing, you practically jumped out of the car and speed walked towards your building.

Turning around, you found him watching you, making sure you got to the door before he waved and drove off.

Only when you entered your apartment did you realise his blazer was still wrapped around your shoulders.

.

.

Hongjoong was on the edge of his seat. Seonghwa was supposed to be home over an hour ago, but there was no sign of him. Maybe something happened when he went to get you? Or did you change your mind about them and turn him away? Seonghwa had... Unhealthy coping mechanisms, and he got into a frenzy anytime something didn't go as he planned.

The sigh of relief he let out as he heard his husband's Porsche pulling up the driveway made his anxiety disappear.

Hongjoong got up from the couch and went to the entrance of their mansion. The man of the hour came in, a dazed expression on his face.

"Hello, my star. I was worried about you for a second." He wanted to joke some more, but Seonghwa's expression turned serious.

"I almost lost it today Joong. I almost..."

"Oh..." Hongjoong realised what he was talking about.

Seonghwa, despite being hundreds of years old, still struggled with his hunger sometimes. It wasn't even about hunger, it was about the thrill fresh, human blood gave him. He's gotten better at managing it, surely, but you were an unexpected trigger for both of them. Hongjoong was just better at dealing with it.

"Yeah, oh. Her neck was... It was so close. Her scent... I had to detangle myself from her delicate body so quickly it made her confused."

What? Hongjoong frowned a bit.

"You... What did the two of you do?"

Seognhwa realised how that might have sounded, so he explained it to his husband better.

Hongjoong was a jealous person by nature, but he looked so pleased with what Hwa was telling him. You were slowly getting used to their affection, and the only twinge of jealousy he felt was because he wasn't the one close to you today.

"So, you managed to control yourself? That's a huge improvement love. You did amazing, and you made our doll happy today."

He embraced his husband, stroking the back of his neck like he always did.

"Thank you, my love. You should have seen her, she was so close... Her lips were this close to mine." Seonghwa leaned in to show Hongjoong, and their eyes met. There will always be a flame burning between them, and the heat of the moment, fueled by Seonghwa's story about their doll, only enhances their feelings.

"This close, yeah? Say, my star... How would you have kissed her?"

Seognhwa pushed Hongjoong against the wall by the entrance, caging him in with his arms.

"Oh, love... I'm about to show you just how I would have handled our precious doll, and much more."

.

.

The relationship between the boys and our reader is getting closer! Stay tuned for future updates, because she still has to meet Wooyoung, and our favourite married couple is taking her on a date.

Lots of love, and happy reading X

[ashwhowrites]

Tyler Owens x reader

Something with jealousy maybe?

Yum, love me some Glen Powell. I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting ❤️

Jealous

Y/N was nervous to meet Kate. Not because Kate was known to be rude or anything, she was known to be beautiful and nice to everyone. Y/N was nervous because she was in love with Tyler, and Tyler seemed to have a soft spot for Kate.

Y/N has been working with Tyler for under a year and she loved every second of it. She was a photographer and was helping him and his team. Tyler had a charming personality and it worked on her in seconds. His smile and the way he never was afraid of intense eye contact. She was wrapped around his finger and it's been a summer of falling into his bed and shaking in his arms.

If she could change one thing, it would be that they could be together officially. Boone seemed to know Tyler best and she spent many nights asking what Tyler felt about her. Boone declared Tyler was into her but was too nervous to make a real move.

But that didn't make any sense to Y/N. Tyler was never afraid of anything, nothing made him nervous.

Y/N didn't have any issues with Kate until Boone opened his big mouth.

"Ty, you ready to see the girl that got away?" Boone joked, smacking Tyler's seat as he sat behind him in the truck. Y/N, who sat passenger, tensed up at the question. She side-eyed Tyler and hated the fact that he seemed to have tensed as well.

"Oh? Who's that?" Y/N perked up

Tyler was quick to shake his head, "No one. Boone doesn't know what he's talking about."

Y/N didn't like the way Tyler seemed to brush it off. His voice was tight and it made her stomach turn sideways. Whoever she was seemed to put him in a stump.

"Her name is Kate; she's pretty good at what she does," Lily said, as she wasn't aware of what was between Tyler and Y/N. No clue she was adding gasoline to the fire. "Tyler was like a love-sick puppy when she came around, and then she up and left. Back to New York."

"New York?" Y/N gasped. She never thought someone from the city would have Tyler's interest.

"Ignore them," Tyler smiled, looking in his rearview mirror as he shot a glare at Boone. Lily was looking down at her drone. Boone gave an apologetic smile and looked out the window, leaving the couple up front to be the only ones aware of the tension. Tyler slowly slid his hand over to her thigh, giving it a soft squeeze as comfort. But Y/N couldn't shake the feeling of jealousy.

~

"Hey city girl," Tyler said, his southern drawl making Kate and Y/N weak in the knees. Y/N stood against the truck, arms folded as she stared as Tyler walked over to hug the girl.

"I was giving him shit. I'm sorry, I didn't think about it." Boone apologized as he got out of the truck. He liked Y/N and Tyler together, and he felt bad he brought up Kate.

"It's fine, I'm good," Y/N shrugged off, "In a way the heads up was nice. I was hoping she wasn't beautiful though."

Boone laughed as he threw his arm around her, "No way near as beautiful as you. Come on, let's go eat."

~

Tyler eyed Y/N as Boone wrapped his arm around her and led her into the small truck stop diner.

"Oh my, Mr. Boone finally landed on a girl?" Kate smiled, watching as the couple disappeared into the diner. Her question made Tyler tense, his jaw became tight as he scoffed.

"No. That's Y/N, she's our photographer." Tyler explained a fire in his chest at the thought of Y/N being with Boone. She didn't like Boone, right? Tyler knew that they were close but he assumed it was as friends.

Kate eyed him, a smirk growing on her face. "Just a photographer?"

Tyler looked back at her, confused by the look in her eyes. "Yeah, let me introduce you." Truthfully, Tyler didn't care if they met right now but he wanted eyes on whatever was going on in the diner.

~

Y/N was staring out the window, sitting up as Kate and Tyler began to walk towards the diner. "Shut up he's coming!"

Boone zipped his lips as he stuffed his face, Tyler walking in with Kate behind him. Tyler took off his hat as he joined them at the table.

"Kate this is my wonderful photographer Y/N. Y/N this is Kate, she worked with us last year for a little bit of time."

The girls shook hands and Kate took the open seat next to Tyler.

Tyler pretended to look at the menu as he tried to sneak glances up at Y/N and Boone.

~~~

The rest of the night was awkward between Tyler and Y/N. She didn't know what to say to him, not like she had the time to. He seemed so caught up in Kate.

"It looks like he still likes her, Boone." Y/N sighed sadly. Tyler and Kate laughed in the bed of his truck, neither seemed to care about the others in the parking lot.

Y/N moved her eyes to the fire in front of her, sticking her marshmallow into the flame. Before Boone could say anything, Dani and Lily joined.

"Can those two just have sex and get it over with?" Lily gagged. The thought made Y/N want to throw up. She didn't give a reaction as she watched her marshmallow burn.

"They probably have, we just weren't told," Dani said as she grabbed Y/N's stick. "You okay?"

Y/N let Dani take her marshmallow, her stomach beginning to feel uneasy.

"I think I need to lie down. My stomach isn't feeling the best," she said as she stood up. She dusted off her jeans and grabbed her jacket.

"Want me to walk you up?" Boone asked

"Sure," she said with a sad smile. Boone quickly stood up and threw a comforting arm over her shoulder.

"Let's go"

As Kate and Tyler caught up, he couldn't help but notice Y/N and Boone sneaking off alone. He followed their bodies until both disappeared behind a door. Boone had her own room, why was he going in hers?

"You know I think I'm going to call it a night," Tyler said, standing up. Kate nodded and let him go. He quickly went up the steps of the motel, walking towards her door. As he got closer, Boone came out.

Once the door closed, Tyler was fast to grab Boone's arm and yank him into Tyler's room, neighbors to Y/N.

"What the hell is going on with you two?"

"Who?" Boone asked, looking around the room like he was talking to someone else.

"You and Y/N. Since when do you touch her all the time and go into her room?" Tyler argued.

"Slow down cowboy. Ain't nothing like that going on," Boone said as held his hands up in surrender. "But if you keep dragging her along and not telling her the truth of how you feel, someone else might end up walking her to her room."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Tyler asked, crossing his arms.

"She likes you, and you like her. Ask her out, dude." Boone said as it was as clear as day.

"I told you I don't know if she likes me more than a hook-up," Tyler defended. Yeah, he was terrified to ask her out and be shot down.

"She clearly does! She's all jealous and insecure in there because she thinks you have a thing for Kate!"

"You are the one who brought Kate up!" Tyler argued, "With your stupid girl got away story...wait she's jealous?"

"Go talk to her," Boone said. Not waiting for a reply before he walked out.

Tyler took off his hat and set it on his bed. Taking a deep breath he walked out of his room and knocked on her door.

The door cracked open and Y/N smiled at the other side. "Hey Tyler, what's up?"

"Can I come in?" He asked, she opened the door wider and let him through.

"Probably don't want to take too long. Don't want Kate to run off on you again," she said bitterly, closing the door.

"Ah, so you are jealous?" Tyler smirked, sitting down on her bed. She rolled her eyes as she stood above him.

"I'm not having sex with you so get off my bed," she snapped. But he didn't listen. Instead, he grabbed her hand and set her on his lap. She tried to fight him off but Tyler held her down against him.

"I don't like Kate," he admitted, "I had a small crush when she first came around but that's all it was. You have nothing to be jealous about," he whispered as he planted soft kisses to her neck.

"I'm not jealous," she argued, hating herself for throwing her arms around his neck. Melting into his lap, his lips danced around her neck. "I don't care if you like her or not."

Tyler hummed as he softly sucked on her neck, he smirked as she let out a soft moan. He pulled away and looked into her eyes, his hands on her hips.

"I like you," he admitted, "only you." His left hand went up to cup her face. His nose nudged against hers, lips ghosting over hers. "What if we take this to another level?"

Y/N felt her heart race as his lips moved closer to hers. "As in?"

"Let me take you on a date, a real date that isn't in motel rooms after dark."

"I'd like that," she smiled, leaning down to press her lips against his. "Sorry, I got jealous."

"Don't be, I like you getting all jealous about another girl," he smirked against her lips, "all hot and mad."

"Shut up, Tyler," she said as she rolled her eyes, kissing him again.

~

"Think they're doing it?" Dexter asked as he and Boone stared at the closed door.

"Oh 100 percent," Boone laughed.

[mrsshabana]

𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮 :･ﾟ✧

𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐬!𝐆𝐲𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲

Happy Birthday @matsukaah !! I know you really like my mantis au Gyutaro so I decided to write this for your birthday. I know it's small but I hope you like it and I hope you have an amazing birthday!! ♡

(This is from an au I made a long time ago where Gyutaro is a mantis hybrid, like a cryptid type creature)

The mantis boy was smart, but you never expected him to understand the concept of a birthday.

He was so feral and untouched by society that it just seemed like something he wouldn't grasp. But no, you were wrong.

Someone must have taught him about it, maybe his sister? Or perhaps he put two and two together when he saw the festivities taking place in your home.

He was kept a secret, of course, so he just watched from outside. His spectacular eyesight came in handy as he sat in a tree, watching you from the open windows in your home. Saw how people came inside, gave you gifts, sang a song around a birthday cake before digging in. He didn't quite understand why but he knew it must have been some special occasion revolving around you.

So that night, just as you were about to go outside, you heard heavy knocks at your back door.

When you open it, you're surprised to see the 7-foot tall mantis standing there with an assortment of items in his hands.

"Oh! Hello Gyutaro, I was just about to come out to see you," you smile sweetly, happy to see him as you always are.

He pushes past you, coming into your home even though you were prepared to go out.

"Erm, we can go outside-" he cuts you off with a hiss. He's never been inside your home before, but he doesn't seem to dislike it.

Even though there are plenty of chairs around, he sits on the floor. Not giving you an option, he grabs your wrist and pulls you to the floor too.

Stumbling over yourself as he pulls you down, you land in his lap. Eliciting a happy chirp from him, his mandibles twitching curiously as he sniffs your hair. You smell different today.

"Gyu, ngh-" you groan as you struggle to get out of his grasp. He holds you on his lap like he doesn't want you to leave, but eventually he lets go.

The expression on his face is shy and timid, totally different than his usual attitude, as he hands you the assortment of items he brought with him.

"What's this?" you ask.

"F-For you... gift," he mumbles.

You gladly accept the items. A bundle of wildflowers, a few shiny stones, and some fresh fruit he must've picked from the forest.

It's a simple gift, sure. But the fact that he, a wild animal, went out of his way to do something so thoughtful means the world to you. Not only that, but in a way he was trying to understand you better. You and your human ways, which seem so foreign to him. A deadly creature that was raised in the wilderness. Some would say, a monster.

"Thank you, Gyutaro," you say with tears in your eyes, "This... this means so much to me.

He smiles, a crooked grin that rarely appeared on his face before he met you. "Happy? Good, yes?" He strings together a sentence with the few words that he knows.

"Yes, I'm very happy!" You lunge towards him and hug him tight. Trying to hold back your tears.

He doesn't understand at first, but he likes it when you're close to him like this, so it's not long before he embraces you as well.

"Me happy, you happy," he chirps, nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

Even though they were simple, these gifts from Gyutaro made your day. They mean more to you than all of the gifts you received today combined.

Your sweet monster boy made an effort to celebrate this human thing that he has no concept of. And he did it all for you on your special day. But how could he not? You are his favorite human after all.

[theallianceofcelestials]

Hello, this is my first ask on this account (at least im 99% sure it is), and I was wondering if you could give a little uh drabble I think you called it? Of Bloodmoon and Lunar just like. Causing chaos or bonding or whatevs, im not picky but I just really love the three of them so much

I'm going to do it SEA style then, cuz you didn't specify if you want any other fics or even just canon divergence thingy, hope that's fine dear :)

"Alright! Here's the plan!"

His big brothers are looking at him attentatively, and he knows he can count on them no matter what happens.

"Dad keeps the cookie jar at the top! And I know from reliable sources he's made a fresh batch of raspberry jam and chocolate filled pillows."

The twins' optics fill with stars, and Lunar knows he has them. If he didn't before, now he surely does.

"I need you to get me to the upper cabinets so I can latch on! Between the three of us we should be fine!"

Bloodmoon looks into the distance, and he knows what they're gonna do before they even say it

"I speak with other"

Lunar waits patiently as they sit down to bash their head into the floor, anxiously grabbing their phone so he can look at the time.

Eclipse said he can't keep everyone out for long. They only have a short window to do this!

"Very well, we'll go along with your plan! On the condition that you won't rat us out."

"Deal!"

They shake on it, and he knows from their shit-eating grin what they're about to do.

He still shrieks when they hoist him into the air, then laughs as they throw him a couple times. Then they're separating and it's back to business.

Bloody smiles down at him, and he grins back. Rusty is already waiting for them by the cabinet, ready to hoist the both of them up.

It's much easier to do this with two people, and no shade to Clipsy, but he's not the strongest either. But Bloodmoon are! So it goes much more smoothly!

He takes six pillows this time, two for all of them, and jumps back down. His brothers catch him.

"Let's get rid of the evidence brother!"

"I don't believe father will take well to this blunder."

Rusty, the kinda killjoy that he is, is looking at him pointedly. Lunar just smiles

He's going to do this again, thank you!

[maraschinomerry]

Bottom of the Rainbow

Pairings: George Karim x gn!reader

Summary: after George gets mad at you for keeping a secret, you finally share your unusual hobby with him - searching for the ends of rainbows

Content: sunshine x grump, fluff, mentions of reader's dad (positive), first kiss

A/N: I'm back after nearly a year!! Another sunshine x grump fic, except George isn't really a grump so much as just himself 😅 inspired by but not a continuation of You Are My Sunshine. Thank you as always to my Georges for the support, especially Lisa for beta reading 🫶

Word count: 5.2k

Taglist: @neewtmas @marinalor @ettadear @honey-with-tea @mischiefmanaged71 (to be added or removed, just let me know!)

It was, as most people would describe it, a thoroughly miserable day, and you couldn't be more excited.

As far as the eye could see (which currently wasn’t far at all), London was draped in thick grey clouds, from which poured heavy lances of rain that lashed against the windows of 35 Portland Row like they were trying to break in. The house was quiet save for the dull drumming from the other side of the glass. Lucy was upstairs recording a cassette for Norrie, Lockwood was training in the basement, and George was… somewhere, so you had the living room to yourself. It was rather peaceful really, sitting in your armchair by the window, watching the movements of the sky.

The floorboard by the door creaked as George entered with a huff. So much for peaceful.

“If you're waiting for a client, you're wasting your time,” the curly-haired boy pointed out as he flopped onto the sofa. “We're not expecting anyone and very few people are daft enough to turn out in this weather on the off-chance we'll take their case.”

“Oh no,” you replied cheerily, “just waiting for the rain to die down.”

“Not a fan?” If only he knew. But that was just it, he didn't really know you at all. You'd been part of the same agency, living under the same roof, for 3 months now, and the two of you were still almost as distant as the day you started. Sure, you knew now how each other worked, the way you handled cases, but when it came down to your personal lives you'd found out very quickly how different you were from one another. He was so quick-witted and sardonic, while you didn't have a sarcastic bone in your body. Lucy and Lockwood were able to go toe-to-toe with him, but it was clear he was holding back because they were friends. You'd seen George talk to Kipps once. He was brutal. At least the others had some softness to them, which made you feel a little less like the odd one out.

“Hello?” George's voice brought you back into the room, and you realised you'd been staring out the window again.

“Sorry,” you mumbled. What was it he'd asked? Oh, not a fan of the rain. “I don't mind the rain, actually.”

“Well you live in the right country then.” He'd already picked up his book, and it seemed like he wasn't all that interested in your opinions on the weather or in continuing the conversation at all, so you allowed the room to lull back into the ambient quiet of the pattering outside.

George was quite engrossed in his book, but occasionally he would glance up and find you still watching the rain. What was the big deal, anyway? It wasn’t like it hadn't rained most weeks since you'd arrived, yet every time you gazed out the window like you’d moved to London from a desert. Still, at least you were peaceful with it, creating a companionable quiet for him to read or do research without having to engage in idle chatter. For all your chipper nature and relentless enthusiasm, you were surprisingly reserved. He respected that.

Suddenly, the quiet was broken by an excitable squeak from by the window. George lowered his book in time to see you leap to your feet, face glowing with a smile and the radiance of the sunlight which was finally breaking through the parting clouds.

“Back soon!” you called as you bolted from the room, and within seconds the slam of the front door rang out. Bewildered, George pushed himself up from the sofa and ventured into the hallway. There was an empty space on the shoe rack where your boots normally sat, and the coat rack showed the distinct absence of your yellow raincoat. He opened the front door with a frown, just in time to see a flash of yellow disappear round the corner. The bright pockets of blue that had appeared in the sky caused him to squint, so much so that he almost missed the colours brushed across one of the lower clouds. A rainbow, dipping behind a nearby house.

You returned about 10 minutes later, looking slightly out of breath and considerably less excited than you had when you left. George was back in his place on the sofa, and this time he barely even lowered his book as he addressed you passing the doorway. “What was that all about?”

“Oh,” you replied falteringly, “it was nothing really.” How odd, George thought.

The second time it happened, all four of the group were there. You'd been out for breakfast to celebrate a case well done, and the cafe had provided welcome respite from the rain. Soon enough you all headed for home, when the telltale streak of colour appeared against the vanishing clouds. George was only slightly less surprised this time by the delighted squeal from your end of the line, which was immediately followed by you breaking away in a jog.

“Don't wait for me, I'll see you at home!” you called over your shoulder as you picked up speed.

Lucy frowned. “Should we follow them?”

George was tempted. As much as it didn't really make much difference to him what you did with your free time, he had to admit he was curious where you kept running off to. Still, he shrugged and carried on in the direction of Portland Row and the other two eventually followed.

The coat hooks in the hallway were empty when the trio arrived home, distinctly lacking in yellow. You said you'd meet back here, but with how quickly you were moving they'd assumed you meant you'd get there first. By the time it reached half an hour since you'd gone off, an odd air had descended over the group, tinged with concern.

“Do we know where y/n was running off to?” Lockwood asked, breaking the silence. George had the beginnings of a suspicion, but he couldn't be sure, so he stayed quiet.

Lucy, meanwhile, was less calm. She stood by your chair in the window, peering out every time someone walked by. “Are we sure they're okay? Shouldn't we be going out and looking?”

“Lucy, it's barely gone 10,” George finally piped up. “It won't be dark for hours, they're not exactly in any danger.”

“You've seen the enemies we've made in the past,” she retorted. “You really want to take that risk?”

A bolt of worry shot through George; he tried his best to hide it but was less successful at hiding the way he almost leapt out of his armchair at the sound of a key in the front door.

You sighed as you kicked off your boots. All that for nothing. You'd even gone to all the effort of running with your kit bag, which wasn't exactly light, and it still hadn't been worth it. Sure, lots of the other times had ended up like this, but somehow it stung even more today. At least it seemed like everyone was off doing their own thing so you could sneak up to your room and have some time to yourself.

The living room door swung open, and you caught a glimpse of dark curls.

So much for that plan.

“Where have you been?” George asked sharply.

You groaned quietly, hoisting your bag up and heading for the stairs. “Not now George, please.”

The thud of a second pair of feet on the stairs made your heart drop even further. “No, no, hang on! You can't just run off like that. Do you not trust us or something?”

“George!”

“Well that's what it feels like! We were-” he stopped for a fraction of a second, “Lucy and Lockwood were worried about you. Not even a hint of where you'd gone, what you were doing, how long you'd be…”

You'd reached your room by now, throwing your kit bag onto your bed and sinking down beside it. George lingered in the doorway, but he didn't let up.

“I was just… doing something.”

“Oh,” George scoffed. “So what was so important and secretive that you couldn't just tell us? Were you seeing someone?”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. You tried to blink them away without him noticing. The last thing you wanted right now was to talk to anyone, let alone be interrogated or lectured by someone so cynical that they'd never understand your motivations. “No-”

“Then what?!”

“I was trying to find the bottom of the rainbow!” The words burst out of you in almost a yell, making the quiet that followed twice as loud. Your gaze was fixed firmly on the floor, and yet you were painfully aware of the look of confusion and judgement on George's face. Maybe if you kept staring at that one spot for long enough, he'd finally leave you alone. “That's why I didn't tell you,” you mumbled. “Because I was afraid you'd look at me like that.”

George stood, frozen, just beyond the threshold of your room. He knew he could be harsh sometimes, but his friends didn't usually mind and anyone who did was met with an even stronger retort. He was the way he was, and that had never been an issue.

Until now.

He wasn't sure which part he felt worse about - the fact you thought he was looking at you in some kind of way, or the fact that you were expecting it. The two of you weren't the closest, but you were friends, weren't you? At the very least, you were a team. You were supposed to have each other's backs.

“Sorry,” he started after what felt like an age. “I just… I don't get it.”

“It's nothing,” you sniffed. Hang on, were you crying? Because of him?

George hesitated a moment, weighing up the impact of crossing both a physical and emotional barrier, before stepping into your room. He glanced around, taking in your space properly for the first time. The pile of books on your desk, the faded music posters on the walls, the photos taped around the mirror. And you, seeming smaller than usual, curled into yourself on the bed, still not looking at him. His voice was soft when he spoke, surprising you both. “We wouldn't be here if it was nothing. Help me understand why it matters to you.”

When you still didn't speak, he thought perhaps he'd crossed a line. Perhaps you were finding the nerve to tell him to get out. He didn't normally do things like this, he had no idea what to expect. He was so busy considering whether to leave that he almost didn't hear you.

“It was my dad's idea.”

George turned his attention from the door and found your gaze on him at last. The slight tears on your lashes, the way you chewed anxiously at your lip, the absolute vulnerability of the moment stirred something in him. He swallowed the feeling. He knew your family were still around to some extent, you mentioned them from time to time, but it hit him that you never talked about them in depth, just a passing comment now and again. You never told him anything proper about them. Or maybe it was just that he'd never asked. “Is that him in the photos?” He gestured to the mirror. You nodded, then gave an extra nod towards the mirror in an unspoken invitation.

The pictures, a mixture of Polaroids and film prints, spanned well over a decade. An adorable short-haired toddler, a beaming child with their front teeth missing, a pre-teen who had clearly shot up out of nowhere, all the way up to you in your first agency training uniform. A couple of the shots were of you and your former teammates, but many of the rest featured an older man. The ones that didn't, George suspected, had been taken by him.

You watched George warily, waiting for whatever comment he was going to make next. The comment never came, and you realised that he was actually paying attention to what he was looking at. You quietly stood, your feet sinking into the rug around your bed, and joined him by the mirror.

“That was our first rainbow,” you murmured, pointing to a faded photo. The boy beside you jumped a little, having been too engrossed to notice your approach. He followed your finger to a photo of you, about 3 or 4 years old, grinning next to the boundary of a lush green field. Just beyond the fence, almost lost to the wear of time, was a thick streak across the sky touching down into the grass. The red and blue had sustained the worst fading, but it was still unmistakable. “We came across it by chance, and my dad told me it was special finding the end of a rainbow. He bought me a whole bar of chocolate on the way home, bigger than the ones mum usually let me have.” You pointed out a couple more photos of rainbows the two of you had found and the outcomes - a special dessert one time, a new pair of boots the next. “Even after I started training and found some on my own, something good would always happen. This one was just before I got my first grade.” It was on the far side of the mirror, so you had to lean to point it out. As you began to pull back, you suddenly realised how close you were standing. His face was nearer yours than it had ever been before, and you breathed in bergamot and cinnamon. George wasn't looking where your finger was either; he was looking at you, not the strange way he had before but a new, equally strange way. You felt your cheeks grow warm, and you quickly went and sat back on the bed, this time leaving a space.

“So that's it? You're going after them for the tradition, and to try and make something good happen?” George asked, his attention now fully on you.

You kicked your feet a little, scuffing them along the rug. “Sort of. It's nice getting the extra boost of luck, but recently…”

George came closer, and when you made no protest he perched in the empty space on your bed. He gave you a small, awkward yet encouraging smile. “Your dad?”

You pulled a face, your nose scrunching. George wanted to make a joke about it making you look like a bunny, fighting the urge to call it cute, but now wasn't the time. He let you speak instead. “I told him I'd write and send a photo when I caught my first London rainbow, but that was months ago. I've spoken to him since of course, but only by phone. The longer I leave it, the more I feel like I can't write without having found one. It doesn't feel the same.” There were tears in the corners of your eyes again.

“You'll find one sooner or later,” George said reassuringly. “It's England after all, you've seen how often it rains.”

You laughed, the tension leaving your shoulders as you wiped your eyes on the cuff of your sleeve. “Thanks, George. And thank you for, you know, understanding.”

“Just promise you won't run off on your own any more, okay? Take one of us with you.”

“I promise. I suppose it's safer that way.”

“Well there is that,” he smirked, “and you'll need someone to take your photo.”

—

It had been just over a week, and you were amazed by how much things had changed. You'd never been uncomfortable around George, you'd just accepted that the two of you were too dissimilar to be close, but now you found yourself wondering how you had ever thought that. You found yourself seeking out his company more often, even if you were both sitting in silence doing your own hobbies - last week, his presence had frustrated you, now you almost craved it. It seemed like he sought you out more too. On that first evening, he'd brought you an album full of pictures of his own family to reciprocate you sharing yours. If he was cooking and you were passing through to or from the basement, he'd either start a conversation that forced you to stay for a few more minutes or he'd ask for you to pass him one ingredient after the other until the meal became a joint effort.

One day, you found yourself accompanying George to the Archives to help with research. It hadn't been a successful day by any standard - someone had borrowed the book George really needed, and the article you were after had been badly damaged by an overeager junior Tendy's agent. The worst part was that you were both absolutely drenched from the downpour you'd arrived in. Thank goodness you both had coats, or it would have been an utterly horrible day, but they hadn't protected you from getting soaked from the waist down. Your boots had only just stopped squelching. The two of you called it a day after an hour of fruitless searching for other potentially useful materials, and you turned up your hood as you headed for the door in preparation. The soft grey of the clearing clouds that met you was a welcome relief, and you immediately started scanning the skies as you walked away.

There.

You gasped in excitement at the vibrancy of the rainbow in the near distance. It was the clearest you'd seen in all your time in London. “George!” you called, already starting to head towards it. He hadn't spotted it, hadn't moved. Each second was too precious for you to wait. Without thinking, you grabbed his hand and ran towards the corner. He stumbled a bit at first and his grip tightened around yours, taken by surprise, but he quickly fell into a matching pace. Together you hurtled through the city, narrowly avoiding collisions with pedestrians and lampposts alike. You'd almost lost hope when at last you turned a corner and stopped dead in your tracks. George nearly ran into your back. The colours were fainter than they had been, but they were still clear as day where they fell just the other side of a large puddle. You let out a squeak, and if you didn't know better you'd swear the hand in yours squeezed its encouragement. What was for sure, though, was the way the hand pulled you back as you began to move forward. You frowned.

“Give me your camera,” George prompted.

“Oh, right.” With a hint of reluctance, you let go of his hand and pulled a slim disposable camera from your coat pocket. Once again, George stopped you. He directed you to behind the puddle, with the rainbow landing in front, before cautiously stepping into the road and lining up his shot.

“On three, jump. One, two, three!”

You jumped into the puddle with a joyful giggle, the droplets that flew up around you illuminated by the flash of the camera. George took another still photo in case the first one didn't turn out well before handing the camera back. Through the little window on the back, you could see the number 1. You raised the viewfinder to your eye.

“Whoa, what are you doing?”

“Well, I'm not getting this developed and wasting a perfectly good shot, but I don't want to wait until I find another rainbow to finish it off. Smile!”

George rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, but he was smiling in spite of himself, and you were smiling too as you pressed the shutter.

You weren't quite sure where you'd ended up, so you followed George who seemed to know a route home. It wasn't until you got to more familiar surroundings that you realised you'd been too giddy to notice exactly which way you were going.

“Isn't the house that way?” you pointed back over your shoulder.

George shrugged. “It is, but we're not going home yet. Lockwood and Lucy won't be expecting us back so soon, so we're going to Arif's for doughnuts.”

You blushed. You hadn't expected anything from George when you dragged him along, you were quite happy to wait for the usual moment of good fortune, but it was unexpectedly thoughtful that he'd paid attention to your tradition and considered this. While you were dragging your heels, clearly not wanting to push the boundaries of generosity, he bought you a rich chocolate doughnut with a salted caramel filling (the kind you'd secretly eyed up before but found too decadent to buy yourself) and a strawberries and cream one for himself. Stepping back out into the sunshine, you sat together on a small bench across the road to eat. The wood was a little damp from the rain, but without hesitation George laid his coat down and sat on one half. You were about to remark about him catching a cold as you squeezed yourself onto the other half, but the warmth radiating into your side caused the words to die in your throat. You nestled in a bit closer; if George noticed, he didn't say anything about it. You unwrapped your sweet prize and held it up, beaming when George touched his to it in a silent toast.

“That was… kind of fun, actually,” he said almost like he was surprised at having enjoyed himself.

“It was!” you grinned. “It was nice having someone to share it with again. And thanks for the doughnut.”

George thought for a minute. “So what's next, you write to your dad and then what? Look for the next one?”

“Exactly. I find it quite encouraging in a way, knowing that whatever happens, however bad things might get, there are always going to be more rainbows. It's got me this far.”

“Well I hope there's a bit of a break before the next one. I'm a researcher, I'm not used to all this running around.”

You blinked. Was he implying he wanted to join you again? And why did you hope that was what he meant?

Lockwood was draped across the sofa when you got home. He peered over the top of his magazine as you closed the front door.

“That took a while. Was it a productive session?”

You worried at your lip. You still hadn't told Lockwood or Lucy about your unusual hobby, and in the moment you felt a bit silly to have been running round and having fun when you hadn't done the work you set out to do. You glanced nervously at George.

“Sort of,” the other boy replied, giving you a reassuring look before turning to Lockwood. “Although I want you to know that if I ever get my hands on the agent who spilled coffee over that newspaper article I was telling you about, I will not be held responsible for my actions.”

“Y/n, I think you need to accompany George more often, we can’t afford to be blacklisted from any other establishments,” Lockwood winked at you.

“In that case,” George faked a scowl, “perhaps they ought to accompany me while I make us lunch so I don't set your kitchen on fire.”

You nodded, before glancing pointedly at Lockwood. It was time to come clean. “I'll be with you in a sec.” Thankfully, the curly-haired boy got the message, and left you to explain in your own time.

—

Everyone had been very supportive, much to your relief. Lucy had gone rainbow-hunting with you a few times over the following months, Lockwood a couple more, and on one occasion you'd ended up taking the whole team with you on the way back from an errand. It was fun getting to spend time and share your passion with them all, and now you had a whole new array of pictures being developed that you couldn't wait to add to your mirror, but you had to admit that your favourite were the times when it was you and George. You'd been out searching together again just before you collected your first photos, and it wasn't until you reread the letter to your dad before sending and noticed you'd dedicated an entire paragraph to talking about your coworker that you finally admitted to yourself why that was the case. Something good did always happen still, regardless of who you were with, but with him it felt different. He always put in that little bit extra. And gradually, you felt different. Before long you were analysing almost every interaction the two of you had - every late night conversation in one of your rooms, every time his hand grazed yours or he made the effort to give physical contact when you needed reassurance on a case (he didn't do that with anyone else, but that didn't mean it meant anything, right?). You tried not to read too much into it all, telling yourself that even if things had changed it was only because he felt obliged to keep an eye on you so you wouldn't run off again.

You'd now been with the agency just over 6 months, marking 3 months since you'd first run off and started this whole chain of events. Last night had been a particularly rough case, so you were letting off steam in the basement training area. The powerful beat of your music drowned out your grunts of frustration as you swung your rapier through the jets of air, and you yelped when suddenly you spun round to find not a white cloud but George. Clearly you hadn't heard him coming down the stairs. Time seemed to slow as you stumbled backwards, terrified of hurting him or worse, that you'd already done so. One of your feet caught on the other, and you felt the blade fall from your hand as you grasped for something, anything, to stop you from falling. A hand, warm and steady, wrapped around your waist. You gaped up at George in surprise. He seemed just as shocked, though whether that was because of his action or because in the heat of the moment his fingers had caught under your top and gripped the skin above your waistband, you couldn't say. Another blast made you jump, bringing you back to reality, and you frantically hid your blushes as the boy flicked off the training equipment and mouthed something, his words inaudible. You launched yourself to the stereo and paused your music. The silence was deafening.

“I take it you couldn't hear anything, then?”

You frowned, wondering what you were supposed to have heard. Had he been calling you? Then, out of the quiet, a sound emerged. A persistent pattering on the window. Rain.

“You need to come outside right now.” He offered you his hand. Blushing again, you took it, and he led you up the stairs and through to the hallway. You'd been so caught up in the moment that you hadn't realised he was wearing his coat until he took yours from the hook and helped you into it. Hoods up, you both stepped out onto the street. You glanced around. This had to be about a rainbow. But where was it? George gently placed a hand on your shoulder, moving you until you could follow his eyeline.

You gasped.

There in the distance, glorious against the grey clouds, was the most vibrant rainbow you'd ever seen. Above it, much paler but still noticeable, was a fragment of inverted colours. A double rainbow. Frozen in awe, you almost forgot the urgency of the situation, until George took your hand again and started running. Together you wove through the streets, occasionally calling directions or words of encouragement as you drew closer. The colours remained ever vibrant, a beacon of joy across the sky. You found yourselves in a small park, where the main arc of the rainbow touched down into the grass beside a wooden gazebo. Both of you were panting, but you no longer needed words to communicate; George simply held out his hand, and you passed him your camera. He couldn't help but smile behind it as you twirled through the rain with a laugh, feet sinking into the sodden ground, and gave the biggest grin he'd known you to have, even in the photos he'd seen. Then he came closer, turning the camera round and pulling you into his side as he snapped a photo of the two of you. Soon the adrenaline wore off and you were faced with the fact that you'd just run all the way here and it was still raining, so you climbed into the gazebo and slumped down onto a bench. George sat beside you, leaning his head back against a pillar.

“Can you believe that's the first time I've ever seen a double rainbow?” you sighed. The feelings were overwhelming. You'd barely believed you would ever have this experience, of course you'd always thought you'd share it with your dad but somehow being here with George felt like everything it needed to be.

“Seriously? That definitely deserves a celebration.”

You giggled, leaning playfully towards him.

“Does that mean doughnuts on the way home again?”

Something in his demeanour shifted and you worried you'd pushed things too far. His smile was smaller, wavering, and his hand went from almost brushing yours to playing with the hem of his coat.

“Sorry, you don't have to-” you began.

“No, it's… I meant something bigger, since this is such an important moment for you, like, um, like dinner?”

Why was he so nervous about that? It was a great suggestion! You loved nothing more than the times you spent cooking together and it was sweet that he'd realised how much it meant. “Sure,” you reassured him, “what shall we cook?”

He swallowed thickly, voice coming out low and cautious. “Actually, I meant could I buy you dinner?”

Maybe it was the clouds starting to clear. Maybe it was later than you thought and the ghost lamps were starting to come on. Maybe it was just your own obliviousness finally crumbling. Whatever it was, you looked at George in a whole new light, at the way he was watching you carefully and expectantly.

“George Casper Karim, are you asking me on a date?”

He hesitated. “That depends on whether you're saying yes.”

You moved closer and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. “Does that answer your question?”

George began to lean in, but then he stopped. You started to worry again that you'd done something wrong, until he took your hand and led you from the gazebo. It was just drizzling now, the droplets coating his dark curls in a fine mist and splashing onto your own hair as you stepped outside. The rainbow was still there, fading as the rain died away, and as you were drawn towards its colours George spun you into it, catching you by the waist and bringing his lips to yours. Your mind was filled with fireworks, interlaced with that cosy cinnamon scent which had grown so familiar. He felt and tasted as warm as the sun which was starting to re-emerge, and as his hand came up and settled on your chin, thumb stroking across your cheek, you decided that the photo he'd just taken of the two of you would be going in pride of place on your mirror.

[rosenclaws]

ma meilleure ennemie || Worst!Logan x Reader

summary: Logan loved, lost, fought, and killed you in his world. Now after being thrust into another universe. He finds you in a world where things worked out. How unfair.

warnings: angst, fem pronouns are used for the reader, its kinda a sad ending but like bittersweet more. talks of fighting and violence

wc: 4.2k

a/n: This is based on the song from Arcane! I would highly recommend watching the show btw its amazing and the scene this song is from is absolutely gorgeous. Anyways I hope y'all enjoy <33

Logan was really sick of all this multiverse stuff. Like seriously.

He barely remembers what happened. Wade had taken another one of this universe hopping devices from the TVA in order to complete some mission but as usual the two got into it. Shouting and fighting until Logan's claws went right into the little device. Before either of them could react it exploded. Logan felt like every atom in his body was being ripped apart and put back together. The world was spinning and he wasn’t quite sure where he was anymore.

In the blink of an eye he's not standing next to wade anymore. He in a bedroom. The light shining through the window and birds chirping outside. Logan looks down and sees that he's no longer in a bloody yellow and blue suit, but simple sweatpants and a black shirt. What the actually fuck. He catches a glimpse of himself in a mirror.

He looks different, just slightly. He had less wrinkles and the bags under his eyes were gone. His hair was a little longer too. It was uncanny as hell. It was him, he was moving his hand and touching his face but it doesn't fully feel like him. He hears laughter outside of his door.

Slowly he opens it, poking his head out to see the hallways bustling with students and teachers. He catches a glimpse of blue fur and he slams the door shut. No no no this isn't real. This is some weird fucked up nightmare dream thing. His heart starts to race as the sights and smells of this odd world start to fuck with his senses. He shuts his eyes and bangs his head against the door. Just wake up already Logan.

Wake. Up.

"You drink too much last night honey?" Logan acts before he can think.

Claws out and slamming whoever had snuck up on him into the door. Logan's eyes widen as he sees you under his arm. Confusion in your eyes as you tug at his arm.

"Fuck! Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." You push him away with your powers but Logan's gaze only hardens.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" He growls. He should bury these deep in your fucking head.

"I live here?" You furrow your brows as you put your hands up.

You take a step forward but Logan takes on back. His defenses are up and he won't make the same mistake this time. You're dangerous, you're the enemy.

"Logan what's gotten into you?" You ask softly. You try again to reach out and touch him but he flinches away.

"Stay away from me." He pushes past you, shoving you into the wall as he rips the door open and runs down the hall. Ignoring the call of his name.

He wanders aimlessly around the mansion until he finds Charles office. If anyone can explain what was happening it's him.

"Ah Logan, I've been waiting for you to arrive, please sit." Hesitantly he sits down, he can't help but observe everything around him.

The last time he was here, at the mansion, was the worst day of his life. But now everyone's laughing and happy. He blinks and the memories flashes in his mind. The blood that stained the walls, the smell of burning, the screams.

"So much pain. I'm so sorry." Charles wheels over to Logan.

"Hey chuck. Been a long time." Logan grumbles. His hands dig into the chair handles, almost tearing them off the more he lets his mind spiral.

"Forgive me for prying, but your thoughts are incredibly loud." Charles pokes and prods Logan's brain. Seeing glimpses of his world and this one mashing together.

"You're not from here." Logan nods his head.

"I don't know how I got here but, I need to get back."

"Start from the beginning." Logan spills it all.

Starting with his own world. How he walked away and it led to everyone being killed. The years of grieving and killing. How he was found and kidnapped by Wade and how it led to him saving the universe. How their fight led to him being thrown into a completely new timeline. Appearing to have taken over the body of this worlds Logan. And you. How you were in his bedroom and the flurry of emotions that came with it.

In Logan's world you were a very powerful mutant with mind powers. You were kind and friendly, but rumbling deep within you was a terrifying power. Power that could level a city with only the snap of your fingers. Charles had taken you in as a child and nursed your abilities. Teaching you the importance of control. You were his prized student. But then Jean came along and Jean became everything you couldn't be. At least that's what you had always told Logan.

She took the spotlight. She got everyone's love an admiration. People weren't scared of her. Her power was graceful and strong while yours was reckless and something to fear. When Logan rolled around you were a professor. He had caught your eye from the moment he was brought in. A handsome, mysterious stranger. But as always it seemed that Jean was the one to grab his attention. Which Logan admits is true, at first. But Jean didn't want him and he respected that.

Logan met you in the middle of the night one day. Small talk turned into more as the sun came up and the two of you were still wrapped up on the couch. You understood him more than anyone and he got you. Your romance may have started slow but it grew into a pillar of Logan's life. He loved you. God he loved you so fucking much. You were his light, his love. You were never a second choice to him, but the right one. The only one that mattered.

But he got to you too late.

All that pain and doubt had been manifesting years before he got there and after one bad mission you exploded. The team had turned on you, told you that it was your fault. It was misplaced anger from everyone. Including him. A shame he carries to this day. Your powers became uncontrollable. If not for Charles and Jean together you could have leveled the entire mansion. Logan tried to console you, to bring you back to him but it was too late. You saw the fear and the hatred growing from those you once considered family.

So you left. The brotherhood got to you before Logan could and the next time he saw you was on the opposite side of battle. You had changed. He barely recognized you anymore. You were cruel and ruthless with your powers.

For years the two of you fought on opposite sides. Logan tried to fight for you. He was convinced the you that he knew was still in there but no one else believed him. They told him over and over that you were gone. That the woman he loved was no more and only a cold blooded villain remained.

You hurt his friends, you threatened the mansion, the kids who once looked up to you now shivered at your name. It hurt him to his core, but eventually he accepted it. His love wasn't enough. Nothing could bring you back. You were gone.

It all cumulated about five years after you left. The brotherhood wanted to use you to wipe out all those who opposed them. Innocent people included. Anyone who stood in their way. The X-Men were sent to stop them. It was a bloody, long, intense fight. Allies and enemies being taken down left and right until it was you and Logan left.

"Please sweetheart, I miss you." Logan begs.

"Come back home."

"That place is not my home anymore." You spit. Nothing but hatred in your eyes as you pushed Logan to the ground. Your powers keeping him from moving.

"I'm going to kill you and all your friends. Nothing is going to stand in our way. Nothing!" Your powers let him go but you grab him by the neck.

For a split second Logan thought he saw regret in your eyes. Something. Anything other than the empty soullessness from before.

Logan! Take it! He hears Jean speak in his mind.

She was nursing Scotts wounds, she could barely stand on her own. With a broken roar he digs his claws right into you. He watches as the light drains from your eyes. As the blood pours from the wounds he gave you. He holds you in his arms. Silently whispering that he loves you, that he's sorry.

Your body goes limp and when Logan can no longer hear your heartbeat he knows that you're truly gone.

Why you let go of Logan he'll never know. You had to have known what the risk was. Why would you ever give him free use of his hands, of his claws? A part of him wonders if this is what you wanted.

Your death took a heavy toll on him. He started drinking more and more. The conflicted feelings weighed heavily on him. Most would celebrate your death but he mourned you every damn day. Mourned the woman you were, the woman that you loved.

"What is she doing here?" Logan asks lowly. Memories of his version of you flashing through his head.

"Here she never lost control, never joined the brotherhood.

"What changed?"

"In this world, Jean came to me first. She was my student first and thus Jean helped me train her to control her powers. She was my star student. Never feared her powers." Logan scoffs.

Was that all it took? Was that little difference all it took to save you? If he had loved you enough could he have saved you? Or were you already too far gone by then.

"We'll work on getting you home. I'll talk to hank and get back to you. For now, just try your best to adjust." Logan is dismissed.

Now what? Maybe he should just hole himself in his room until its time to go home. Until he remembers that you're there too. Suddenly he hears kids screaming, his senses kicking into high gear as he runs outside, claws out on instinct. He sees you with a bunch of kids running around screaming. He doesn't have time to think. He just acts.

"Get away from them!" Logan yells. Making everyone stop in their tracks. He lunges at you and you use your powers to slam him to the ground.

"What the fuck is your problem! We were playing a game!" You shout.

"Kids, go back inside." You command and they slowly file inside, whispering amongst themselves.

"How was I supposed to know that?" Logan growls once you let him back up.

He puts his claws away but the hostility doesn't fade. How could it? His brain is so fucked up right now, he had long accepted that you were gone and now he's thrown into a world where you aren't a villain anymore. That you're the woman he loves again but he just can't let himself trust this. He can't. What if Charles is wrong? He just...he can't do this.

"What did you think? Did you actually think I was going to hurt them?!" You ask mostly as a joke.

"Logan, you've been off since this morning." You reach your hand out but he doesn't take it. He pushes himself up. Putting up these walls that you swore you broke a long time ago.

"I think its best if you stay the hell away from me." He walks away without another word.

Leaving you utterly confused.

Logan locks himself away for the next couple days. Only coming out when he was called by Hank and Charles. He could feel your eyes on him every time. Like a sad puppy he kicked to the curb. He doesn't even look at you. He knows he can't. If he does he'll cave. The problem is that Logan knows he can't stay here. He's only setting himself up for heartbreak if he lets you in. Nothing but pain and what could have been. He just doesn't think he can mourn you anymore. He just wants to go home. To forget this ever happened.

Once again he can't sleep, deciding to walk around the mansion instead. Pictures line the walls, some that he recognizes and others he doesn't. He stops and one in particular. Jean and Scotts wedding. Scott looks happy and Jean is a beautiful bride, but that's not what catches his eye.

It's you standing right beside her. A big smile on your face. You look gorgeous. So happy and carefree.

"I remember that day," He jumps hearing your voice once again. He turns to see you standing away from him, but staring at the picture. His claws don't come out this time at least.

"Can't believe Scott even wanted you as one of his groomsmen with how much shit you give him." You say softly.

"Yeah," Logan looks over to the other side of the photo. Seeing himself dressed in a suit. Except Logan's eyes are on you.

"Charles told me. About your situation. I understand why you reacted the way you did. I'd be freaked out too." You rub your arm awkwardly.

"How much did he tell you." He asks.

"Not much. Just that you're from another timeline and you're trying to get back." Logan grunts.

"That...you've been through a lot of pain and loss." Logan's breath hitches. So Charles didn't tell you any specifics. Maybe that's for the best.

"I don't know...what we are in your world. But I want you to know that I'm here for you Logan." He clenches his fits, god how can you be so sweet to him after he almost stabbed you twice. He'll never understand.

"Thanks. I'm sorry If I scared you before." He says.

"You can never scare me." You say and Logan shuts his eyes.

You used to say that to each other. Logan was made to be a weapon and you were a ticking time bomb. Yet not once were you ever afraid of each other. Both of you looking past what others saw.

"What...what am I? To you?" You ask hesitantly.

The question's been eating you alive since you learned about this whole thing. Logan takes a deep breath. Turning to look at you and feeling his heart sink down to his feet.

"It's a long story, one you don't want to hear." He says with a sigh.

"I mean, I have time. I just. I don't want you to have to carry it all alone." You reach up and touch his arm. Logan's eyes close as he feels your fingers trail down to his hand, lacing your fingers with his. It's been so long since he's held your hand.

"Maybe another time sweetheart." Logan squeezes your hand, using all his willpower to let go of your hand.

You watch sadly as Logan walks away, disappearing back into his room without another word.

He lays on the bed staring at the ceiling nursing a glass of whiskey. It's been a week since he got here. They're close to getting him home. There's muffled music coming from the living room.

It's Storms birthday. Logan should be out there, maybe to keep up appearances but a party is the last thing he wants to be at right now. There's a knock at the door and he ignores it. Until another one, and another. Finally he just gets up to tell them to fuck off. He opens the door to see Charles.

"I said no." He mumbles. Ready to slam the door but Charles stops him.

"I'm not here for that. We should be ready to send you home within the hour. That being said. I know it's been a long time since you saw most of us. Consider saying goodbye this time." With that Charles leaves, leaving Logan stunned.

Quietly he grabs his jacket and heads to the party. Sneaking in as best as he can. Sticking to the corner of the room. He sees Storm talking to Jean and Scott. They're smiling and laughing. Jean spots Logan from across the room. Offering him a small smile.

His eyes move over to the middle of the room. They had pushed the furniture around to make room for a dance floor. He watches as He's not strong enough for this? Rogue, Kitty, and Bobby were dancing. Laughing as they take turns making up stupid dance moves. Jubilee was using her powers to create fireworks that lit up the whole room.

She catches Logan's gaze and waves happily. Seeing everyone again, seeing them happy and thriving. It made his heart ache. To know that at least in one universe, everyone is okay. No thanks to him that is.

"Logan! Come dance!" Jubilee shouts, making everyone's eyes turn to him.

"No thanks kid, I don't do that." He grumbles.

"Oh come on Logan, it's a party." She begs.

Logan sighs and pushes himself off the wall. Walking to the dance floor taking Jubilees hand and spinning her around a little bit. A small smile crossing his face.

He remembers Jubliee asking him to dance once. Back in his timeline. She was a kid. There was this school dance and she wanted to go so badly. He took her hands and she stepped on his toes. He made her swore up and down to never speak of it but he remembers it fondly.

"Mind if I cut in?" He turns to see you standing there. You're all dressed up looking so pretty. Jubliee bows out, wiggling her eyebrows making Logan roll his eyes.

"Hi." You say softly as Logan holds out his hand.

"Hi." He says.

You and Logan move in sync. Like nothing had happened as the two of you move to the music. Logan smiles as he twirls you around and dips you. He lets go of the weight on his shoulders. Letting himself just exist for once. To enjoy holding you in his arms and dancing to the music. He'll face reality when he goes back. But tonight, he'll dance.

When the music lets up he drags you outside away from the noise and the prying eyes. You walk through the garden in a nice quiet. He leans down and picks a flower from the ground, putting it behind your year.

"Pretty." You bite your lip as you tug your coat tighter.

You sit on a bench and Logan joins you. From this angle you can see how lively the mansion is tonight. The party, the lights on in the bedrooms. Its so homey. Logan smiles, a part of his heart feels like it's patching itself up. At least its not all bad in every universe right?

"You go back tonight right?" You ask and Logan nods.

"Are you happy to go back?" Logan looks over at you, grabbing your hand and squeezing it tightly.

"I uh, I don't know." The truth is he wants to stay.

God he wants to stay so badly. To live here and be happy. No worries about the world ending or being reminded of his dead friends. But...He can't stay. As badly as he wants to this isn't his life. You aren't his girlfriend.

As he was told before. All the pain he went through made him the man he is now, there are people out there who still need him. Who need the Wolverine to fight for them. You lean your head on his shoulder.

"I wish I could stop time. Just for a second." He mumbles.

His arm wrapping around your shoulder as he watches them sing happy birthday. You lift your head, staring into his eyes. What sad lonely eyes they are. He leans in, foreheads touching as he cups your face gently.

"Can we, can we just pretend like it's the first time?" He asks in a low whisper.

You nod your head as you close your eyes and let his lips touch yours. The kiss means fucking everything to Logan. His thumb brushes your cheek as he kisses you with ever ounce of love he still has deep in his heart. He knows that you aren't the same woman but fuck he just hopes you know that he's sorry that he wasn't enough. He hopes you know that he loves you.

You tug on his hair and Logan groans. His other hand resting on your back pulling you closer. He reluctantly pulls apart from you. Breathing heavily as he catches his breath. There's this silly smile on your face, one that always appeared after Logan kissed you no matter how much you tried to hide it. He missed it.

Logan. It's time.

He hears Charles in his head. His smile dropping as he realizes it's time to go. "I can go with you down to the lab." You offer as Logan stands up. He takes your hand and helps you up, leaning in to kiss your forehead gently.

"No, I should do this on my own." The truth is he knows that if you're down there he won't be able to go through that damn portal.

"Don't look so sad, You'll have your Logan back soon sweetheart." He wipes away a stray tear from your face.

"I know. It's just, hard to say goodbye." You take the flower from your hair and place it in his jacket pocket.

"Something to remember me by." You walk hand in hand back into the living room.

Logan takes one last look around the room. A strange sense of peace coming over him as everyone smiles and waves to him. It's not goodbye for them, but it is for him. But at least this time, he got to say the words. Logan lets go of your hand, sparing you one last look as he steps into the elevator. He can't bring himself to say anything. You know what he wants to say.

The elevator moves slowly as he heads down to the lab. Silently he steps out and heads towards the lab.

"Logan wait!" He freezes as he hears your voice.

"How did you-"

"The stairs. I took the stairs." You blurt out. He nods, standing there unsure of what to say.

"Can I ask you one question before you go?" You ask breathlessly. He nods. He can hear something happening in the lab, he doesn't have much time.

"In your universe, did you love me? Were we happy?" Maybe its an odd question. After all you just made out outside. But you don't know what this Logan had been through, if things were different or how different they were. You just needed to know. You always had a hunch your love was stronger than a simple timeline.

Logan takes a long look at you. Committing you to memory, so that now he can remember you like this. Smiling and happy and unafraid of who you are.

"I loved you more than anything sweetheart, I still do." With a soft smile you take one last look at Logan before returning back up the stairs. When Logan returns he'll be the man you knew before, but you don't think you'll ever forget this other Logan. Not for a long time.

"You ready Logan?" Hank asks as he hooks Logan up to a machine.

This was supposed to separate the two Logan's. He just prays it doesn't kill him. Logan closes his eyes. Similar to the feeling before he grunts as his cells seem to tear apart once again. Only this time when the pain stops he's back in his bloody suit. The other Logan is laying on the ground. Knocked out from whatever the hell Hank managed to do.

Before their very eyes an orange portal appears. They must have finally pinpointed the anomaly once the two had been separated. Before he steps through he turns around, nodding his head at Hank and then Charles.

"It was good to see you again Chuck, Thanks for everything." Logan says.

It feels like a weight has been lifted off his chest as he steps through the orange portal. In a flash he's at the TVA headquarters, standing in front of Wade.

"Peanut! There you are, oh I was worried sick." Wade jumps into his arms and Logan just drops him. Wade stands up and dusts himself off.

"We need to get you chipped or something. Maybe a bell to wear around your neck." Logan rolls his eyes and just follows the TVA agent in front of them.

"I went to a world where dogs could talk. What about you?" Wade asks as they're brought back home. Logan thinks for a moment. He sticks his hand in the pocket of his suit. His body freezing as he feels the soft petals of a flower.

"Hello? Earth to Wolvie? What having some emotional flashback to something only the readers know about?" Wade waves his hand in front of Logans face.

"I was thinking asshole." Logan shoves his hand away. Smiling as he tucks the flower deep in his pocket, deciding that he'll keep his adventure to himself for now.

"Anything you want to share with the class?" Wade asks. Logan just shakes his head.

"No, nothing worth mentioning."

[bm571158]

Free Now LN4 (Part 38)

"Well?!" Flo demanded the second Lando answered the phone. "How did it go?"

"How did what go?" He asked.

"Don't play dumb with me, how did it go with Lottie?"

"How did you know I was there?" He asked, confused.

"Well, mum said you were coming over to go to McLaren so I took a guess, and now you've just told me that you were there. So come on, tell me!" Flo demanded.

"Lottie didn't call you?" He asked.

"No." Flo told him. "I was going to call her, but you're my brother and it's way easier to interrogate you. Now, tell me."

The way Lando sighed into the phone was enough of an answer for Flo to know that it hadn't gone the way that he had expected it to. "Oh...." She mumbled.

"She uh... she's better, she's happy." He sighed, as if that somehow made what he was feeling less painful. He supposed in a way it did. Seeing her happy, knowing that she had the chance to get back to doing what she loved and finally something to look forward to was great, but it hadn't made it any easier walking back out of her house and getting in his car to drive away.

"I'm sorry, Lando." Flo said quietly. "I never should've suggested you go there, I really thought that she'd change her mind and it would all be fine... shit.... Are you alright?"

"No." He admitted. "But I'm about five minutes away from MTC so I haven't really got time to worry about it right now I guess."

"Why don't you come here tonight, rather than going back to Monaco?" Flo suggested. She hated the idea that he was going to fly back to Monaco to sit alone in that apartment and be miserable on his own.

"It's alright." He reassured her. "I need to get back. I've got stuff I need to sort before Zandvoort. I'll be okay it's just... well, it sucks."

"I'm so sorry Lando, I really thought all she needed was to see you again and she'd realise that she's being stupid. What did she say?"

"It's fine Flo, really." Lando brushed her off, he didn't want to get into the details of what had been said with his sister. "I need to go now, I'm at MTC and I'm already running late." It was a lie, he was actually early and still fifteen minutes away but he just wanted to get out of the conversation.

"Okay, call me later?" Flo suggested. "And if you change your mind and want to come and stay then the offer is still open, okay?"

"Okay." He agreed quietly, ending the call. He had no intention of going to Flo's no matter how many times she suggested it. He just wanted to be on his own where he could think and digest what Lottie had said to him.

He was still sat in his car staring into space thinking about it when Oscar had arrived at MTC, tapping on the car window and making Lando jump.

"You alright mate?" Oscar asked him as he scrambled out of the car, realising he'd now only got a couple of minutes before he was supposed to be somewhere. "You looked like you were miles away."

"I uh... yeah. I've got a lot on my mind I guess." Lando mumbled, shutting the car door behind him.

"I know it's none of my business..." Oscar said hesitantly, and Lando looked up at him in surprise. His teammate was quiet, never stuck his nose into anyone else's business, he always had been. "But you and Lottie... there's so many rumours going around online and I haven't seen her for a few races now. Is everything okay?"

Lando hesitated, halfway tempted to just lie to Oscar and tell him it was all fine. He knew Oscar wouldn't believe him, but he was probably too polite to call him out on it and it might put an end to the conversation. Lando knew what Oscar was referring to, the second he'd shown up in Spain without Lottie beside him the rumour mill had well and truly started turning.

"You shouldn't believe what you see on the internet." Lando muttered. If you believed what the gossip sites and TikTok were saying he'd cheated on Lottie, she'd cheated on him, he'd proposed and she'd said no... the variations on the story were endless. Not a single one of them was correct, but obviously the people on the internet weren't worried about how factual it was, it was great reading.

"I don't." Oscar shrugged. "But there's no smoke without fire usually, and you're not telling me nothings going on."

"It's... it's complicated." Lando sighed. "But yeah, we're... we're not together anymore."

"I'm sorry mate." Oscar gave him a sympathetic smile, patting him on the shoulder. "That's rough."

"Ironically, a lot of the problem was all these gossip sites and people with cameras who are now having a great time speculating about what happened." Lando commented dryly.

"Ah.." Oscar gave him a knowing look, after all they'd all been there. "I really am sorry, she seemed like such a nice girl."

"Yeah." Lando sighed. "Me too."

Thankfully, Oscar seemed to have decided that his one brief venture into Lando's personal life was more than enough for the for a lifetime and hadn't brought it up again. Instead he'd gone a little over the top doing everything he could to keep the conversation away from that particular topic, changing the topic of conversation not so subtly any time anyone came remotely close to mentioning it and Lando had never been more grateful.

He'd said goodbye to Oscar and the team as quickly as he could at the end of the day, heading back to the airport to go back to Monaco, but not without checking his phone one more time on the off chance that Lottie might have called him. She hadn't, of course, she'd been very clear with him when he'd left hers that he shouldn't hang around waiting for her to call, but the hope that she might was definitely still there.

It wasn't until he was back in his apartment in Monaco, haphazardly shoving the clothes he needed to take to Zandvoort with him into a suitcase, that he really started to digest what she'd said to him.

None of it was anything that he could even try and argue with, and it was clear that she'd put as much thought into whether or not she could be with him as he had put into trying to persuade her to come back. It wasn't some impulsive decision that she had made as a result of what had happened in Monaco, it was clearly something that had been bubbling away underneath the surface for quite a while and that had just been the final straw.

He couldn't say he blamed her either, for not wanting to live her life in the media spotlight. He hated it too, missed the days of being able to go out and have fun without worrying about people recording him and it ending up on the internet. He didn't have a choice, just had to accept it and get on with it, but Lottie did have a choice. She could get away from it... it just meant that she had to get away from him.

So as much as it broke his heart and he wanted to plead with her to change her mind, he understood her reasoning. It just didn't make it any easier to accept.

He was still mulling it over in his mind as he arrived in Zandvoort. It wasn't his favourite race, the win there last year and his decision to throw out a 'simply lovely' in the heat of the moment after the race had been the beginning of a level of hatred on the internet that had been like nothing he'd ever experienced before. The seemingly innocuous comment that had slipped out of his mouth in the heat of the moment being taken as something it wasn't.

He'd had to delete all his social media off his phone for weeks after that race. The comments and posts were so vile that he hadn't been able to bring himself to even pretend he wasn't bothered. He'd gone back home to his parents to spend some time with them in the hope that might offer a distraction, anything to stop him from thinking about what people were saying.

As he walked back into the paddock in Zandvoort, a year later, the same uneasy feeling settled over him. It was Max's home race, of course everyone was rooting for him to win. It made sense that if hadn't been popular with the home crowd that Lando had won, it made sense that they'd started booing him as he went past on the track this year.

It all made sense, and yet he couldn't quell the horrible feeling of anxiety that came with it.

The pressure was on for this weekend. He had the lead in the championship but a reasonable, but not comfortable, margin. It was effectively his to lose now, and that was a terrifying prospect. Then there was the pressure of returning to a track that he'd absolutely dominated at the previous year, winning by a huge margin, and people were going to expect the same this year. He could hear them now if he didn't win, saying that last year had just been a fluke- luck not talent they'd say.

He'd worked himself up into such a frenzy about it that he was pacing up and down in his drivers room ahead of his media commitments, unable to sit still with all the nervous energy coursing through his body. If he had time he probably would've gone for a run around the track, he needed some kind of distraction and way to clear his head.

The interviews went along the lines he was expecting, and he repeated the answers that he'd become very well rehearsed in giving when it came to the inevitable questions about the championship and his rivalry with Max. They were the diplomatic answers that had been very carefully though out by the McLaren PR team, the ones that had been recycled so often by this point he knew them by heart. He wasn't even sure why journalists kept asking the question really. Had they not figured out that they only ever got the same answer from him?

He'd muddled his way through, tripping over his words a few times when someone had asked him a slightly more unexpected question, but he'd recovered quickly enough that hopefully no one would think anything of it. Certainly no one from the team had said anything. Then before he knew it, the day was over and he was in the car on the way back to the hotel, ready to spend another night alone with his thoughts and absolutely no distractions.

Lottie meanwhile, had been watching the tv coverage as she always did. While no one at the track may have picked up on his rather erratic mood, she spotted within the first two minutes of the interview she was watching that something was wrong. That frown line on his forehead was back, the way he was fidgeting around in front of the camera completely unable to stand still, the way his fingers kept finding their way to his neck to fiddle with his necklace and the way he kept adjusting his cap on his head every time he spoke... it was nothing like the calm and collected interviews she'd watched him give as of late. She just couldn't put her finger on why.

She'd dialled his number before her brain really had the chance to catch up with her actions, and in the split second of indecision that she'd had about whether or not she should quickly hang up he'd then answered and taken away her opportunity to back out. She wasn't sure if their new found agreement to be friends really extended to her calling him up like this to check in on him, but she supposed she was about to find out.

"Lottie?" He sounded puzzled as he answered. "What are you doing? Is everything okay? Are you okay?"

"I was actually calling to ask you that." She told him sheepishly. "Sorry, I shouldn't have called. I don't know what I was thinking really, I just..."

"You just what?" He asked.

"I was just watching your interview on tv and you looked like you could use someone to talk to." She said softly. "Are you okay?"

"Was the interview that bad?" He groaned. "No one here said anything."

"No, it wasn't." Lottie reassured him. "But I know you well enough to know when something is wrong, so tell me."

"It'll be okay, I'm just a bit nervous. It's Max's home crowd, they're never that pleased when someone else does well... I think I just feel a bit funny after all that last year." He mumbled. "It'll be fine, I'll be fine."

"I think the first step would be for you to stop pacing up and down the hotel room." She suggested.

He stopped mid step, looking around in confusion. "How did you..."

"I can't see you." She laughed, because she could just picture the confused look on his face as he tried to work out how she knew. "But I know you well enough to know exactly what you do when you're stressed. I'm not wrong, am I?"

"No." He admitted. "You're not."

"So, stop pacing. Go and take a nice warm shower, order yourself some dinner. Play something online with Max for a bit and then get some sleep. You'll be absolutely fine tomorrow, I know you will. I'll be cheering for you, even if some of the crowd aren't."

"Thank you." He whispered. "I've really missed your pep talks. I wish you were here. It was all so much better when you were here."

"Lando." She sighed into the phone. "Come on, let's not do this again. Especially not when you've got a race to think about."

"I know, I know." He agreed unhappily. "I just miss you. Being friends is great, but it at the same time it's really, really shit."

"I'm sorry Lando. It's the best I can do at the moment." She told him quietly. "I miss you too, but I need to do what's right for me. I'm always here though, if you need me. You can call me and I'll talk some sense into you any time."

"Maybe you could come to Abu Dhabi with Flo?" He suggested. "It'll be the end of the season. You can talk some sense into me in person then."

"You'll be world champion by then, you won't need me to talk some sense into you." She reassured him.

"Please?" He asked again. "It would be so good to have you there." Abu Dhabi was an age away, but it would give him something to look forward to at least.

"Let's see how things go." Lottie suggests, not wanting to commit but also not wanting to upset him by saying no. "I've got to go now, but you'll be fine tomorrow. I promise. Good luck, Lando."

She'd been right of course, she always was. She'd watched on with fond smile at the tv screen as he'd come home to win the race on Sunday. Not quite by the same landslide margin that he had done the year before, but a win was a win worthless. She quickly fired off a message to him to congratulate him and tell him to enjoy the celebrations.

She stared at the tv screen with a wistful smile as she watched him take to the podium, the proud look on his face as the anthem was played. She tried again to remind herself that she was doing the right thing, for both of them, but as she watched on all she could really think about was how much she wished she was there with him.

The problem was, it came and went in waves. One minute she was convincing herself that she was wrong, that she was denying herself a chance at happiness with someone she really, truly loved because she'd let the opinion of a load of strangers on the internet get in her head. The next minute though she would remember how it had made her feel watching her life and appearance get torn to shreds on the internet for other people's entertainment. She would remember what it felt like to not be able to walk down the street without having a dozen cameras pointed at her, the suffocating feeling of not ever being able to go anywhere and just relax.

It was a coin toss- the two things she so desperately wanted seemingly impossible to have at the same time. She could be with the man that she loved, or she could have her privacy and live her life away from the media to  keep her sanity in tact. The two seemed to be mutually exclusive, no matter how hard she had tried to look for a middle ground. So no, as much as she wanted to be there and be the one that he came running to when he got off that podium and was ready to celebrate, she couldn't be that person for him, as much as she wished that she was.

[steamingstewchunks]

Don't leave Sari with Ultra Magnus.

It's a feeling to him, not a thought. Not as he can see the way his Magnus, his commander, his leader, stretch out a palm in such a way the seemed so final but so....

Foreboding. Like she was being taken away, instead of being held gently by someone who cares.

(he does... He should care about her.)

Sari was sitting in her little corner, a new one, now that they didn't have to stay in the Ark anymore, being tended too by prowl and bulkhead, sunlight beaming down into them from the window they built it next to, who In turn do stare between him and Ultra Magnus.

For once in his functioning, he couldn't decide if what his leader said was an order.

"I would like to hold the Sparkling, Optimus."

"bwuh- uh, yes sir, you will be able to hold her, sir, but human infants," lying is easy, lying is easy, say something, "they have a lot of rules to follow when handling them."

A white lie works too.

"Surely not, all I would need would be the pillows and mesh contraption," he points his head towards prowl, who wasn't in holoform like Bulkhead, who had the dipped mesh contraption they've had since the beginning. "I know organic young have rules to follow when handling, but it is not nearly as rigid as you imagine. I won't have her long."

The old mechs smile doesn't reach his eyes, it's spread a little too wide.

prowl, I need a distraction. The mentioned starts to sniff around just a little just after the private comm, and cringes. Almost perfectly.

"bulkhead," he stands, letting his vents clear the "smell" from his olfactories," she needs a diaper change."

"oh, sorry Ultra Magnus, maybe some other time?" Optimus smiles at his commander, keenly examining him for any sort of reason, again, why he felt the need to say no. Why it was so scary to see his servo reach towards Prowl.

Almost like magic, Sari starts to cry, with the toy in her hand dropping to the floor.

"and it's almost nap time too!" Bulkhead cradles her, heading into the changing room connected to the baby corner. Unaware of the ruse the other two where putting up.

"oh well, heh. Maybe some other time." Ultra Magnus let his servo fall, but seemed to search the two. "I have business to get back to on the Steelhaven, and you," he stares pointedly at Optimus, "still need to fill out those incident reports about the decepticon attacks."

"aah, yup, yes sir, Magnus sir...!" He saluted, a toothy smile making it's way across his faceplates, dermas splitting so awkwardly he could feel prowls despair without needing to dig into his field.

"at ease soldier." The Magnus says, almost stalking out of the room.

"Optimus." He turns to look at Prowl, "what. Was that."

[velveteenoutlaw]

Abandoned Church, Scarlett Meadows