#i refuse to be silenced... i refuse to be ashamed...!!

[atxxzist]

sweetest lies | c.s (final)

prev // series m.list

pairing: choi san x f!reader

word count: 13k

warning: smut that i'm not proud of

a/n: it's finally here! only took like 10 years. apology if i missed anyone on the taglist, it's been forever

you know you're probably wrong. but even if you are, you don't wanna hear about it.

don't wanna hear about all the mistakes and choices you're making on a whim because you've already had enough of today.

you wish you were surprised when san is the first thing you see upon exiting your work building. at this point, it's really just irritating how predictable he is.

he showed up, of course he did. all the purposely missed calls and ignored texts practically an invitation--a mistake on your part.

hands in his pockets and a sullen expression on his face as if you've done him wrong, the beating of your heart louder the closer you are to him, whether you'd like to admit it or not.

he looks tired, even if it's evening and the sun is already faltering from the sky; adorned in his messy unbrushed hair and sweatsuit staring at you with eyes a mix of everything from annoyance, sadness, to anger--all of which you don't wanna deal with right now, if ever.

you suck in your breath and stop in front of him, thinking it's way too cliche if you just walk past him only to be pulled back by the grip on your wrist. so you let him talk.

though it feels like the longest stare-off before he speaks up, after finally picking up the hint that if he isn't gonna, you two might as well stand in unpleasant silence.

"what happened?" is all san says, because he honestly can't even begin to think of what to ask first.

why did you ignore all of his calls and texts yesterday? why are you standing before him now, looking the most pissed off he's seen you in a while when you also just sounded the happiest you've ever been in a while?

but most importantly, how did you all of sudden come to make up your mind so fast about the move? he swears, he was so sure just a day ago you were gonna stay. everything from your actions to body language, even if there were hiccups.

even if there were doubts in the smallest things you did or said at times that had him questioning the possibility for a second... he was still willing to bet you'd eventually end up staying.

"nothing happened. i made up my mind. that's it," you tell him, refusing to meet his eyes while doing so, because if you did, it's almost like you knew he's gonna be able to see through the lies.

either way, he sees through it. some of it, at least. standing unmoved in his spot and trying to make sense of everything.

"i just don't understand," he says defeatedly, probably one of the most vulnerable he's ever sounded. "i was really sure you were gonna stay."

and you'd lie if the way he said it doesn't make your heart pinch with guilt a little, inhaling another deep breath and hurling out words deprived of any empathy, "well you thought wrong."

you can tell he's taken aback by your response; the cold shoulder something he can take, but not when it's also met with harsh words he feels he's undeserving of.

"so that's it?" he says, shrugging with thinning patience and a tone no longer friendly and concerned. "you're just gonna leave?"

after everything. after he's tried so hard to change your mind, and after he was so sure he did.

"i guess so..." you mumble, looking to the ground, ashamed but also too prideful to back down now.

an almost never-ending silence sits between you and san until both of your heads shoot to the opening of the door to your workplace, one of your coworkers making a quick appearance before heading to their car.

san clears his throat.

"can i ask why, at least?"

the question brings an even bigger knot to your throat, because how do you even tell him the real reason at this point and not wanna run away after; losing all of your pride and dignity in front of the very boy you spent most of your life despising.

the same boy, who, you realized maybe you didn't hate so much and that you might even hold some more complex feelings for.

"because," you say, trying your best to sound convincing through all the lies you're about to spew, "i-i just think it's for the best."

it's then that san seems no longer angry or in disbelief, his face turning a softer expression that speaks as if he's come to an understanding, really taking your words for it.

"i see..." he says under his breath, staring down at the ground before looking you in the eyes one last time. "if you're sure that's what you really want, then i hope it works out."

your chest constricts just at the scene replaying in your head again; the defeated look on san's face and the eerie, guilt-stricken sensation you felt in the moment all coming back the same as before.

you down another sip of the drink in your hand, repeating the action every time the thought comes back, losing count on both the number of drinks you're on and the time.

occasionally, the irritating music from the shoddy bar does a good job of distracting you when the drinks isn't enough to overpower the mere thought that you're about to make one of the biggest mistakes of your life.

the bar is nearly empty, like if there weren't music playing, you'd be able to hear a pin drop. but you're thankful for the lack of pestering from guys twice your age due to it, given you're in no mood for confrontations.

it's only peaceful for a moment longer when the front door comes bursting and in arrives what seems like a rather large group of people, the chitters drawing yours and everyone else's attentions.

you groan irritatingly and finish the rest of your drink, considering this as the sign to go home for the night as you ring up the bartender for payment.

grabbing your purse and getting off the stool, you don't make it far past the group of newcomers before a familiar voice calls to you.

"y/n?" you hear him through the now hushed music, turning to your side and meeting his wide but calm eyes.

"hongjoong?" you squeak, swallowing the knot.

it takes him only one glance over to conclude you're a mess, and especially in a place he knows you go to in order to relieve whatever stress and misery you're going through.

"what brings you here?" he asks calmly.

"i should be asking you that," you return, gaze scanning the surrounding and people that has turned such a snoozefest place into a rowdy one.

"had a small but successful showing with the band i'm in, so we wanted to celebrate and invited a couple of our close friends," he answers, much to a silence from you, prompting him to ask, "and you?"

"i wanted to grab a drink," you say, trying your best to sound casual but it's like he saw the buffering in your head when you tried coming up with an excuse.

he raises a brow, his response takes you aback. "you wanna talk about it?"

if you had heard such a thing a couple months ago, you would've scoffed and told him to leave you the hell alone. but currently, you're aware you don't have a lot of choices.

it's either you get some company, or rot in your room for the rest of the night. and maybe hongjoong's in a certainly good mood from the previous event that he's willing to hear you out, because despite the unresolved differences between the two of you, he has always been a good listener.

someone you used to come to all the time when you had problems.

after you say yes (with some hesitation and shame), hongjoong excuses himself, making sure to let some of the people he came with know regarding his whereabouts for the next few minutes.

you both occupy a booth in the far corner overlooking the crowd. hongjoong gets water for you and him because he said he doesn't wanna get buzzed just yet, and that you've had enough for the night.

"been a while, hasn't it?" he speaks, the sight of you across from him in some sketchy bar making him nostalgic.

you both used to do it all the time together; frequenting bars and getting drunk off your asses, seonghwa would have to come pick you guys up.

it's been about three years since the last time.

"yeah," you reply, voice low, because the realization hits you that it has been that long.

it doesn't only make you as nostalgic as him, but also downright depressed because while hongjoong has grown within these past years, truly following his passion and making newer, better friends, you're still in the exact same position you were from before. heck, it's even worse now.

"what's with the long face?" he breaks you out of the thought. "rough day?"

you sigh, mumbling, "pretty much." though you wouldn't even have to answer for him to know. he just does, able to read you like an open book.

he nods understandably and lingers on words he's been wanting to say, eventually giving in.

"hey, look, about yunho's celebration party... i'm sorry if i was a dick."

“fancy seeing you here,” a voice from behind makes you snap around, finding hongjoong with a cup in his hand and something amusing in his eyes.

“thought you got too good for this kind of setting.”

the roll of your eyes is apparent, and you don’t bother to hide it.

“i’m not here to get high or whatever, i’m here for yunho.”

“of course you are,” he snides, the tone and attitude all the evidence that you’re just wasting time talking to him, and that even after all these years, hongjoong still holds a little grudge for you.

"i was just... angry and upset at the sudden sight of you after having not seen you for a while and it all came out without much thoughts."

you shake your head, unfazed from the reminder of your encounter with hongjoong at the celebration party.

"no. i understand. not like i was any nicer that day anyway."

another silence ensues, but you know it's because there's so much to say, hongjoong might not know where you begin. you don't even know where to begin.

"i ran into seonghwa a while ago," you start again, following with a chuckle when you add, "i don't know what it is that i keep running into you two."

hongjoong chuckles along.

"maybe faith wants us back together, i don't know," he jokes, but your laughter fades slowly, turning into something of a light smile.

"i do miss being with you guys," you say, locking eyes with him that speaks more than words can.

not just the parties and crazy memories, but the smaller, meaningful moments--listening to the new track hongjoong just produced as you try not to doze off, being forced to help seonghwa build the lego set he just got, and even just doing homeworks and assignments together although you were failing most of your classes.

it was them who tried to get you back on your feet, and them who tried to uplift you when you were at your lowest.

thinking of it, they might've been there for you more than yunho ever has, because after starting college, almost every instances where you were crying or is a mess, either hongjoong or seonghwa, or both, were by your side.

"i miss it, too," hongjoong says. "we're still great friends, of course, but it's not quite the same without you."

because while you had your shortcomings (most of them related to yunho), you were a great friend nonetheless.

you shared the same sense of humor and you just get him, even in ways seonghwa couldn't; the two of you able to go on for hours just debating and talking about stupid shit.

you were also quite tough in your own ways and never allowed anyone to look down on your friends--not seonghwa's nerdy hobbies, nor hongjoong's occasional shitty tracks.

you can't help the wider smile that breaks out from his comment. hongjoong don't know how much you needed to hear just one thing positive tonight, or maybe he does.

"i'm glad you still ache for my presence," you say lightheartedly, bringing out a chuckle from hongjoong.

"don't flatter yourself."

you laugh the comment off, taking a light sip of water and darting your eyes across the room to the group that came with hongjoong.

"looks like you've been doing well for yourself."

hongjoong nods. "i'd say i'm not doing so bad. and you? what have you been up to?"

it's then that the smile on your face falls, hongjoong taking a notice to it right away.

"you look down tonight, and considering you're here, i can only assume you haven't been having the greatest of time. you know you can always tell me anything, but if you're not ready, i also understand," he says carefully and empathetically, the way he always would when he sensed you were upset.

you take a deep breath because though you haven't properly spoken to him in years, you know hongjoong to be the type to carry a secret to his grave.

"it's just..." you begin, "everything's going to shit lately." obviously.

hongjoong doesn't say anything and lets you carry on respectfully, knowing he's unleashed just about everything you've kept to yourself that's been dying to get out.

"you and seonghwa were right. maybe yunho does love me, but he wasn't in love with me. him and minjeong are together now, and i caught them the night of his celebration party. my parents and his are already talking about an engagement dinner and i don't fucking know," you ramble, watching hongjoong's eyes widen at the revelation.

"woah," is all he can say.

"yeah, i know it's a lot to take in and i'm just starting."

"not to be that person that's a know-it-all, but i kind of felt something was going on between them, too. like there was always a weird ass vibe whenever they were together."

"wow," you say, puzzled. "i guess it must've just been me who was a dumbass and didn't see the signs."

"to be fair, you were pretty full of yourself so it doesn't come as a surprise," he takes a jab, knowing you won't take it to the heart.

you just roll your eyes at the remark, but before you can continue the retelling of your unfortunes, he gets to it first.

"but that's not why you're here tonight, currently drowning in misery?"

you go tight-lipped at that, eventually caving.

"it's not."

this time, he leans in and rest both his hands on the table, never breaking eye contact with you and only making you more nervous about the confession that's to come.

what would he think?

through most of the times that you've known him and seonghwa, you practically spent it denying ever developing any sort of romantic feelings for san, even when they teased you relentlessly about it.

so how would he feel when you tell him that same boy is also the current cause of the misery you're going through?

"tell me about it," he urges in a calm and friendly manner that still makes you have to swallow down the tension in your throat.

"what happened with yunho was a couple months ago," you say, "it was hard. of course it was. but it would've been even worse... if not for san." you almost whisper his name.

"he really helped me during the time. it honestly was nice to be able to talk to just anyone about it." because you're sure hongjoong can already deduce the fact you don't have anyone else besides yunho.

"and it was nice," you continue, " until it wasn't."

"and why is that?" hongjoong asks, his tone slightly teasing though you miss it completely, too immersed in the retelling.

"because..." you linger, biting your bottom lip and no longer able to look hongjoong in the eyes.

"because you've developed feelings for him?" he says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world, immediately pulling back your gaze as you can only stare dumbfoundedly.

"it's okay. nothing to be ashamed of." he chuckles, making your brows pinch together. "can't say i'm surprised. did think it was only a matter of time."

"wasn't like i planned to," you say, slightly annoyed, because you have no idea what he meant by his last comment.

hongjoong shrugs. "lots of things in life won't go the way we always plan. you know now."

"but only a matter of time for what? for when i'll like him? i never even considered it until some times ago."

"no. i know that. i meant it was only a matter of time till you returned the sentiment considering he's been hung up on you for so long."

you're now even more confused than you were, answering him swiftly, "hung up? as in he likes me?" the response causing the loudest chuckle of the night to erupt from hongjoong, even if he knows he shouldn't be laughing.

you have such a warped view of love, having it ever being in the form of idealizing yunho, he's also not surprise you have no idea that the reason san follows and pesters you all the time isn't because he's doing it to be annoying and make your life harder but because it might've been the only form to get your attention, and he wants it because he likes you--romantically.

hongjoong caught onto that as early as his second encounter with san.

you have wanted to grab a quick snack and drink before your class in an hour and invited hongjoong along, the both of you caught up in a conversation and forgetting about why you even came in the first place, when a tap on the table makes you forget what you were gonna tell him.

"hi," san greets, glaring down at you and smiling even if you're already exasperating just at the sight of him.

hongjoong met a lot of people at the last party, a few he's already forgotten, but he remembers san fondly mainly because he couldn't keep his eyes off of you all night (and cause you went off on a tangent about him not leaving you alone).

wherever he, you, and seonghwa were going, he found the boy following; if not physically, then always with a watchful gaze.

"i saw you didn't get anything to drink so i got you your favorite," he says, settling down the cup of hibiscus iced tea that you shoot to with lasers in your eyes.

"i don't want it," you blurt, not even bothering to look at him as you say it, because he's done more than enough to annoy you this week alone. and now running into him here, too.

"but i got it especially for you, made with love." his voice high and cheery, paying no attention to the irritation seeping from your body language and tone.

you stand up from the seat with a sigh, telling hongjoong you'll be back and head for the women's restroom.

"what's her problem?" san questions, scoffing and taking the seat you were just occupying. "i was just trying to do something nice."

"i don't know. maybe she's just pissed from a certain dickhead following her around all week," hongjoong says sarcastically, san raising an eyebrow in return before he shrugs it off.

"nothing that i also didn't do the week before."

"a pleasant person you sound," hongjoong quips, the both of them holding a stare-off so strong, the tension could probably shatter glass.

"and you are?" though san says it calmly, there's an edge in his delivery that's testing hongjoong's endurance.

"someone that actually respects her enough to not follow her around like a creep."

san snickers from the comment, a smirk overtaking his face.

"you don't have to act all high and mighty when you're just sticking around for the chance to get laid," san snarks, the smugness and such childishness from a person making hongjoong see red, but he manages to contain himself.

"we're just friends, but you can think whatever you wanna think. something tells me you're dying to be in my position, though," hongjoong bites back, the smirk on san's lips slowly fading at the last remark.

because he's seen it, the way san looks at him and seonghwa with envy and resentment written all over him.

but despite the initial harshness of the encounter, san grew on hongjoong overtime and vice versa.

they weren't close by any means (mostly because you wouldn't have allowed it), but they were able to be within the same proximity and actually have a good time together; the young boy even sharing a few of his interests.

"yes, he likes you," hongjoong says, holding back the amusement as if having to reiterate it to a kid. "why else would me and seonghwa continuously tease you about him?"

"but it doesn't make any sense."

you swear you're not that dense, but you mostly just didn't consider it because of the way san is. he did nothing but consistently went out of his way to irritate you, only until the whole yunho and your sister shenanigans did you start seeing a different side of him.

"plus, if he likes me, then why would he sleep with other girls? flirt with them and kiss them?" just saying it brings back that same queasy sensation, similar to when you saw the girl back at san's place.

hongjoong thinks about it. he isn't san, but in comparison to you, he's had far more experiences when it comes to relationships and dating, so he can offer a theory or two.

"i can't say exactly because i'm not him, but my guess is, he doesn't see it as wrong necessarily because you two aren't together."

"but he's also dated people. he was in relationships," you tell hongjoong more passionately, as if demanding for an immediate explanation to this nonsense.

"people date and are in relationships with others they don't like or love all the time," he answers nonchalantly.

but it doesn't make you feel any better, nor did it answer anything.

"so he's just an asshole and this is a mistake?"

hongjoong sighs and face palms, shaking his head before recollecting himself.

"maybe. maybe not. but one thing for sure is that he likes you, and everything you just asked me now, he can answer it himself."

you let his words linger in silence, picking your head up again when he speaks.

"anything else you wanna get off your chest?"

you bat your lashes and bite your lips before telling him, "i-i also might've told him i'm gonna be leaving for japan although i haven't notified my boss of the final decision, yet."

hongjoong tilts his head and quirks his lips to the side, about to say something when someone in the crowd calls out to him.

"yeah i'll be there in a quick sec!" he yells back.

"it's okay, you can go," you assure, appreciative of his time.

he nods. "yeah, i'm afraid i can't keep them waiting any longer. but hey, i hope you figure things out with san and reach out to me if you want. my number is still the same."

"for sure," you reply with a smile.

"but you good? think you can get home by yourself?" he asks worriedly.

"yeah, i'm good. i can call a cab."

"alright. safe trip," he says one last time before standing up, but you stop him midway with a soft call of his name before he can disappear from your sight.

"i'm sorry... for what i said and did that day," you tell him, looking and sounding as apologetic as one can be, because you truly are.

he doesn't say anything until a few seconds later, the blank expression turning into a softer smile.

"apology accepted. i'm also sorry for that day."

"apology accepted."

going off on your own without letting san know the real reason why might lead to one of the biggest mistakes you'll make. but you're not sure if going to his place right now is the right choice, either.

you make your way to the floor he's on, doing the best you can to shut out any images from the other day; standing in front of his door while your heart beats loudly into your ears and stalling even further to think of what he could be up to at 11 in the night.

he might be asleep, or he might not even be home--or there's a good chance he's relieving the stress of today's event the way you know he would, but you'd rather not think about it.

the press to the doorbell is slow and hesitant at first, but you ring it three times at least, standing still for a good minute; the anxiety and nervousness from before replaced by a strange disappointment that he actually really might not be home.

with a low sigh, you turn your back to the door in defeat, barely two steps out when it flings open behind you, bringing back the nervousness from before as you swallow down the knot.

"y/n?" he calls out, your back still to him.

and oh how comforted you are just to hear his voice again, even if it hasn't even been a full day since you two last talked.

you finally face him with batting lashes as you meet his eyes, seeing his hair is still wet and he has a towel hanging over his shoulder, he was probably in the shower when you came ringing.

"hey," you say quietly, your lips drawing a thin smile because this is really awkward. you've never been in this situation with san before, obviously.

"what are you doing here?" he asks softly. "i mean, not that i'm not relieved to see you, but just that... you know, what happened today." his voice thins out toward the end, like he isn't sure if he's supposed to be bringing it up this soon.

but you're glad he does.

"i-i want to talk to you about it... truthfully, this time," you tell him, biting back for a short second before continuing. "is it okay if i come in?"

he doesn't hesitate to nod. "yeah, of course." moving out of the way and widening the frame for you.

everything is and looks the same as last time you were here, duh, but the air is different. it could be due to the fight this evening, or that there's a clear change in your relationship with san and how you view him.

you don't know whether to stand or sit, fidgeting and watching san walk over and plop himself down on the sofa in front of you, a chuckle escaping him when he catches onto the sight.

"you just gonna stand the entire time, or?" he teases, prompting an eye roll in return as you sit down in the very same spot you've sat plenty of times before.

taking in his body language and treatment of you so far, you wonder if this is just how san is. that he copes in a way that seems as if nothing is really bothering him... or maybe he got over it, you don't know.

he seemed upset earlier, but anything can happen in a matter of hours.

the thickest silence enters only a moment after, and it's only fair you take the initiative since you came to find him, and it was also you that made it a problem in the first place.

"earlier," you start cautiously, "i wasn't in the right headspace at all."

you wait for a reaction from him before adding anything else, afraid you'll bombard him with too much at once.

"it's okay. i could tell something was bothering you, but it bothered me too because i could also tell you weren't being honest."

you almost wanna cower because just him saying it already makes you feel guilty.

"and a big decision like that doesn't get made overnight. you were fine the day before. something big must've had to happen for you to change your mind so quickly, right?" the way he stares so deeply as if searching for an answer; the desperation in his voice is felt and only worsening your guilt.

"yeah, something did happen," you say, not sure where to begin but beginning nonetheless.

his features twist, glaring at you with a mix of sympathy and curiosity.

"is it... about yunho?" he asks carefully.

san enjoys the time he spent with you; even more than he would have thought, and though you both didn't start off on the best path, he sees potentials in the relationship changing for the better--not even romantically (he don't know if that's possible), but to where you two could be friends for once in the 20 plus years you guys have known each other.

for a bit, it seemed like it was finally happening. but maybe in your head and heart, yunho will always occupy a special kind of space he cannot compete with, no matter how hard he tries.

"no," you answer, much to san's surprise, taking a long pause and then finally telling him what made you so upset that you considered moving across the sea. "i saw her when i was coming up to your place yesterday."

you have no idea how he's gonna to take it; if it's something to boost his ego or maybe he'll just laugh it off because it's actually so dumb, but you try to figure which is it gonna be, gaze never leaving his sight.

but san raises a brow as if trying to decipher what you mean, then it hits him.

"nari?" he squeaks.

yes, nari. the one you're sure is with him at most parties, and also probably the one he was with that one time you ran into him coming out of a bedroom looking all kinds of fucked up.

you've seen san with a variety of girls through the years, but she's easily the most recognizable.

san looks to still be in his thoughts, now attempting to piece together what is it about nari being here yesterday that could make you so upset.

and when you see his puzzled expression slowly replaced by a smirk that only gets bigger, you know he's figured it out.

"are you... perhaps, jealous?" he says, the slyest tone ever gracing your ears, raising the temperature on your cheeks as they probably burn a bright pink.

you're blushing because of choi san... just incredible.

when you're still to prideful to admit it, he gets off from where he was sitting and shamelessly throws himself down next to you, making you scoot over as a reflex, but he goes out of his way to close the space between you two.

he's so close now, face merely inches away and pestering you to answer while you refuse to meet his eyes.

"you were jealous, right?" he tilts his head, tone annoying but also flirty.

"shut up," you spit, finally facing him and able to pick up his natural scent from this angle, you actually can't believe you'd even think about how attractive he looks in a moment like this.

his showered hair, bare face, and the proximity that makes the scene much more intimate--

"it's not funny," you add, because the smirk isn't leaving him at all, and now he's laughing, too.

"it's only because i think you're cute," he says, now suddenly swinging an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in even closer. "like i swear, you didn't give a rat ass about me less than two months ago. did i finally win your heart?"

it feels like he's deflecting, so you try your best to ignore the antics, persisting with all seriousness, "so are you gonna explain yourself?" you haven't cracked a smile even once.

the bigger grin on his face mellows out into a softer smile.

"we didn't do anything," he says calmly, much to a silence from you because you're hoping he has more to say than that, which he does. "i had her over because i wanted to talk to her about something."

"like... what?"

he snickers at such coyness that you're doing an awful job at hiding.

"that i think it's best me and her stop whatever we had going on."

you can only blink because it's not exactly the response you were expecting, asking in a low voice, "and why is that so?"

"because i had a good feeling about you, and that you were gonna stay."

it turns so quiet after, you think you can hear the footsteps littering outside the hall; san's answer making you feel all sorts of way, you're not sure how to react.

"i'm sorry," you finally say out loud, the look on san unchanging even through all of this. "it was just overwhelming in the moment and it was as if nothing could make it better... especially after everything."

"it's fine," he assures. "i just can't believe you made such a life-changing decision because of that. is it too late to take it back?" he's a mixture of being absolutely serious and half laughing.

"yeah, about that... i, uh, i haven't told my boss, yet."

because it is big, and it is life-changing, and maybe you were hoping there could be something else that could convince you to stay.

san stares at you in disbelief before he cracks out a chuckle again, shaking his head.

"you're crazy," he mumbles, the comment prompting an eye roll from you.

"you scared me so much," san goes on. "i don't know what i would've done if you really left."

there's a brief stare-off before you blank and move your gaze to the coffee table at the end of your feet, mind suddenly drawing back to the encounter with hongjoong.

"i ran into hongjoong before i came here," you tell him, his head perking with interests. "i was drinking and he came in with his group of music junkies."

san only listens, giving you the space to talk until you ask of him yourself.

"you know what he told me?"

"what?"

you chuckle lightly before you can even get the words out; san watching in amusement and pondering as to what you could find so funny.

"he said that you have liked me for a long time," you say, no longer afraid to look him in the eyes while your heart beats silently but loud to your own ears, hongjoong's words replaying in your head while you await a response.

“maybe. maybe not. but one thing for sure is that he likes you, and everything you just asked me now, he can answer it himself.”

san quirks his lips to the side and shrugs half-heartedly, his relaxed manner tells you he's just teasing you but honestly, san can be hard to read.

then he finally answers, after you're about to open your big mouth again, "i guess that's why i never liked being around hongjoong much, even if he's cool... the guy can be too observant."

he pretty much confirms it without saying so, a part of you relieved and then another now realizing you're gonna have to carry the conversation and decide what you wanna do with this... information. if you even have to do anything.

"since when?" you ask, just a little curious and wondering.

he hums and removes the arm that was around your shoulders this entire time to cross it with his other one as his back falls to the couch.

"to be honest, it comes and goes. but the very first time i remember liking you was actually when i first met you."

even at the age of nine, he thought you were the prettiest girl he's ever seen. the way you dressed and the way you always did your hair, putting it in a high ponytail or a bun; and the way you liked to wear red and black most of the times made it easy to pick you out.

he was too young at the time and didn't know how to go about having a crush on someone, so he might've done a thing or two to piss you off, and it also didn't help that you were an emo ass kid as hard-headed as a rock.

you didn't just treat him that way, but also everybody else. everybody except yunho.

he loves his brother and has more than a civil relationship with him now, but he just never really understood what was it about yunho that made him so special to you.

"i mean, of course, you were mean as hell, but it's complicated," he adds, shaking his head and snickering quietly at the fact.

but you're more fixated on something else he just said, reiterating, "it comes and goes as in... sometimes you would like me and sometimes you wouldn't?"

“yes, he likes you,” hongjoong says, holding back the amusement as if having to reiterate it to a kid. “why else would me and seonghwa continuously tease you about him?”

“but it doesn’t make any sense.”

“plus, if he likes me, then why would he sleep with other girls? flirt with them and kiss them?” just saying it brings back that same queasy sensation, similar to when you saw the girl back at san’s place.

"i guess you can put it that way?" his voice raises in pitch, as if unsure himself. "it's quite difficult to put in words."

"make me understand," you state in all seriousness.

because again, your biggest doubt when it comes to san is his ability to commit to you and only you. even if you wanna believe him, and he's proven himself the past couple of months that he can surprise you in good ways, what happened with yunho and your sister might've instilled some newfound trauma and trust issues.

you watch as he catches his breath and seems to linger on his thoughts for a few seconds more.

he starts, "there were times i really liked you, the feelings can be quite intense. like that one time when we both were dazed as hell and we kissed, it felt surreal. or whenever i think you look super hot in a certain outfit, the feeling also creeps up again. i also enjoy our banters, and pretty much any time we have a somewhat normal interaction, i would also get it."

you listen attentively with your stomach and chest doing something funny just hearing san speak about you this way.

"then there would be those times... times where you would annoy me and i'd think you're a total bitch. like when you insulted me in front of my friends or just the way you'd always flop around yunho like he's jesus or something. plus, my feelings and the chances of it actually happening are two different things, so it not being an exclusive relationship overall made it easy for me to do whatever i want."

“i can’t say exactly because i’m not him, but my guess is, he doesn’t see it as wrong necessarily because you two aren’t together.”

hongjoong pretty much got it spot on, and you suppose san doesn't owe you any allegiance. that would be ridiculous.

"well that's good to know," is all you say, still trying to process everything.

"what about you?" he asks coyly. "when did you start liking me?"

the question takes you aback, always so bold and daring, but now only staring back like a little deer caught in headlights.

"probably when i was most desperate, i don't know," you joke, a chuckle bubbling out of san. "no, but really, i think it's just when you were there for me when i needed someone the most."

you almost wanna cower because just talking about such a thing with san makes you feel cringe and embarrassed, and he sees it all over your face.

"that's nice to hear." he smiles, the sight pleasant to look at; the genuine happiness on him because you're saying so many nice things about him tonight.

there's a quick pause as you both think of what to say next, knowing what kind of questions and conversation usually follows, but not wanting to be the first to say it.

"so are you gonna be staying?" he changes subject, because you might not wanna get to that part, yet.

your eyes sparkles with something mischievous and playful, answering him, "well, i don't have much reasons to leave now, do i?"

he smirks and nods.

"yeah, i guess you don't." his tone changes the next and sounding much serious. "i was happy to see that it was you at the door. i was afraid this evening could've been our last meeting."

the reminder brings back a pang of guilt as you feel yourself shrinking on the couch.

"again, i'm sorry. just still trying to learn how to deal my emotions... efficiently at least."

"no, i understand. in the end, you came back and made up for it."

"i did." you smile lightly. you couldn't have done it without hongjoong.

there's a comfortable silence before san exhales and turns his head toward the kitchen, then back to you.

"have you eaten?"

you shake your head. "no, but i'm good. i should probably get back. i don't wanna be late to work tomorrow."

"i can drive you back, if you don't mind."

given you don't look like you're in the best condition, and along with a rosy scent he's always known you by, there's a whisk of alcohol that you've even admitted to, though you surprisingly look and sound more than coherent.

--

the car ride is quiet but comfortable as you both let the music fill the air. some songs you don't recognize, but it does goes perfectly with the night as san weaves through lanes a little too fast--something you'd probably yell at him for if you were in a more sober state of mind.

but tonight has gone so well and you don't wanna take any chances of ruining it.

he parks just right outside the gate of your parents place, unlocking the doors and snapping to you.

"here it is," he says.

"you not gonna go say hi to your parents or yunho?" you tease, considering his parents place and family is just next door.

"nah." he shakes his head. "it's too late, and i'm sure they already know i love them."

you smile and unbuckle your seatbelt. "alright."

he nods, and you both just sit there for a moment too long; the unspoken words and uncertainty as equally bothering to you as it is to him, but you're not sure how to bring it up.

you just know you don't wanna end the night without talking about it, at least.

"hey," you say softly, your voice quiet and blending into the night while san doesn't look away from you one bit. "i, uhm... i'll think about it, okay? i mean, if you want me to."

you're stammering and sounding the most awkward you've been all night (which is a feat), that san can't help but to laugh it off. and he knows you're not talking about the decision to stay.

"yeah, of course. take your time. you know i'll be here," he assures, always having a way to make you feel secure and listened to.

"i appreciate it," you mumble, sending him one last smile, about ready to head out. "thank you by the way."

he returns the smile and nods. "no problem."

"i'll get going then," you say, opening the door halfway and about to leave, but instead taking a deep breath as you turn to san, which surprises him.

he blinks in bewilderment. "did you--"

then it happens. a quick peck to his lips before pulling away to his stunned gaze, backing yourself out of the car and giggling.

"goodnight," you coo teasingly, shutting the door and waving him off.

it's crazy how just a week ago, there was a chance you were gonna be flying across the sea to go live in another country.

how much more sad and unhappy you felt; as if that was your only option left. but now already feeling two times better with your future looking a little more than just bleak.

you have surely told your boss you're gonna stay; the news a relief to him because it would cost a lot more resources having to find a replacement, as well as provide the proper training.

and you have surely talked to the landlord of the complex you were seeking a while ago that you're gonna take the place, after which she so kindly walked you through all the steps and what documents you needed to provide.

you just finished going over the contract with her the day prior, and all you need to do now is pay the deposit.

you should be able to move in by friday, she said.

when you told your family about the move, you weren't surprised they didn't seem to care all that much--your parents, at least. minjeong visibly took the news a lot harder.

even if you guys didn't have the best relationship growing up and aren't that close even now, the house's gonna feel a lot more empty now, she said. she's gotten used to you being around for more than 20 years now.

but you think a part of your parents are just relieved to finally have you out of the house and start life on your own after being with them for so long. you'd rather think of it that way, but after all, not like it's gonna matter all that much when you are moved out.

you also swallowed your pride and finally reached out to both hongjoong and seonghwa again (you're still a tad ashamed by the events that followed even if hongjoong had given you the green light).

you all have set up a time and place to meet up next month when you all should be available, so that's something to look forward to.

san has been helping you window shop for furnitures, recommending which he thinks is best based on his experiences and whatnot, though you made sure you tell him you want interior as minimalistic as possible.

clean and just overall simple.

you'll be moving most of the things from your current room to the new one, taking your bed that's an actual necessity with, so you'll worry about actually purchasing furnitures when you're finally moved into the place.

as for things with san, it's always a gamble regarding what's gonna go down whenever you do hang out with him.

on some occasions, he'd act completely normal and treat you as a friend similar to before. then more than half the time, he'd flirt and bring up the peck from a week ago, but never going further than that.

you feel as if you're both currently pushing and pulling and playing a game of who's gonna crack first.

"tomorrow," you tell san over the phone, currently ripping everything from posters to every pieces of decorations that might've been there since you were in high school, off of your walls.

it took a day later than expected to process all the paperworks and everything, but you finally received a call earlier that you can finally move in tomorrow on saturday.

yunho must've heard about it from your sister or san, because you definitely did not tell him nor have you even talked to him in a while. but he texted you this morning if you needed any help with the move, to which you kindly declined though thanked him for the offer.

he asked how you were doing and you said you were doing better. that you're excited to finally have your own place and for what's to come after that.

you and san seems close lately, you recall one of his texts at the top of your head.

yeah, a little, you responded.

"i'll be there, definitely," san replies back. "anything for you, my dear."

you grimace at the pet name and scoffs.

"and who said you can call me that?" you throw the things you've managed to gather into the cardboard box on the floor.

"don't act like you don't like it. anyway, i'll be there at 8 a.m. sharp."

"for what you just said, make that 7."

before you can end the call, you hear his laughter from the other line.

--

"and i want the t.v. stand over here... no! over here!" you talk to yourself, pointing to exact spots and ponder just how you want everything to be.

"a little help?" san's voice come from behind you, muffled by the box he's carrying until he plops it down near the kitchen, all out of breath.

"you're a big boy, you got it," you brush off the complaint, walking back to the bedroom and seeing your mattress flat on the floor, already huffing at the thought of having to build the bed frame back up again.

you hear the shut of the front door, san's voice piercing into the bedroom.

"that should be the last of it. for today at least."

you turn to head back into the living room, barely making it through the doorway when you thump against his chest, rubbing your forehead after as you look up at him.

"don't i get something for helping you out?" he says, tone sly and cunning, you don't even wanna admit what it does to your heart.

he's been doing this a lot more often--say things with the slightest innuendos behind them just to get a reaction out of you. or maybe he's trying to see how far he can push now that there's been a change of dynamic. kind of.

but you remain unfazed by his comment, keeping your ground and telling him, "if you come by later, i'll make dinner for you in return."

he looks over your shoulder to the unfinished bedroom.

"don't you need help with the bed frame?"

you shake your head. "i got it. plus, i've bothered you enough for today, so i'll let you go for now."

"i don't mind staying to help."

"no. i need some time to settle in. and, we still got a lot more work to do tomorrow."

he hesitates, but eventually gives in. that it's more about you needing this time to yourself; in a new environment and finally a place to call your own.

"alright. but if you need me, call me."

"i will."

he walks to the door as you follow behind, holding the door open for him while he now lingers in the hallway facing you.

"i'll come by later, though. i'm not forgetting that."

you chuckle and lightly roll your eyes.

"yeah, of course. and bring a drink or two. we'll celebrate."

"for you finally having your own place."

"for me finally having my own place," you repeat, a smile on your lips mirroring san's.

you spend most of the day setting up the bedroom and assembling the bed frame, thankfully remembering where everything goes from the top of your head because you threw out the instructions maybe five years ago.

you unbox everything and attempt to place the decorations where you think they look best for now, shoving all the empty boxes into a corner after for the next morning when you'll have to take out the trashes.

the living room is empty. no couches, no nothing because you haven't bought anything; the area for now only consisting of a rug and a small table you brought from your previous room because you and san need somewhere to sit and eat on.

when you're sure you're done with all the unboxing for the day, you run for the grocery store just around the corner, grabbing a pot, a pan, other essentials, then the ingredients.

it's almost 5 in the afternoon by the time you start cooking, and though it's been a long day, something about it feels accomplishing. being by yourself, cooking in your own apartment and not having to worry about anything else.

it might be too soon to say, but you think you've made the right choice.

as the stew's just about to be done, there's a knock at the door that you happily skip to, flinging the frame open to no one other than san with a plastic bag around one of his arms.

"hey," you greet.

"hey," he returns, taking it upon himself to walk in as if it's his own home, a strong aroma hitting his nose immediately. "wow, it smells good in here."

"i did say i was gonna cook," you say, shutting the door.

"yes, and i brought a drink or two just like you said." he wiggles the bag in his arm, then peeking over the pot boiling on the stove. "whatchu' cooking?"

"kimchi stew," you answer. "but i also bought some ramen just in case."

"that's perfect," he says, walking over and setting down the bag of drinks onto the floor just right next to the small table.

"sorry. i'm still working on getting a dining set." you half chuckle at the sad sight of the current setup.

"this will do."

he works on setting the drinks: two simple bottle of sojus he got on the way here because tonight isn't about having fun or whatever. he wants it to be meaningful, maybe even sweet.

you place the still hot stew in the middle, going back to the kitchen to grab two small bowls and utensils, handing him his and finally able to rest peacefully across from him while the steam from the pot blocks your view of each other.

"so how is it so far?" he asks, being the one to start.

"good," you answer, the same time you go in with a spoon for a taste test.

"feels nice, doesn't it? like you have all the freedom in the world." san does the same, his eyes lighting up when he's able to digest the flavor. "wow. you're amazing, y/n."

you can't help but roll your eyes, still trying to slowly settle into the way he'd just casually compliment you with such sincereness.

"i'm glad you think so. but yes, it is like as if i have all the freedom in the world. for now, at least." you chuckle, and he follows shortly after.

"in a month or so, let me know how you feel again."

you nod to his words, the next minute an air of silence as you both busy yourself with the food and drink.

it's more than past 6, the sky outside turning a darker color and painting the neighborhood more empty.

you're just about done with swallowing the portion of your food when a thought crosses, being the one to start speaking again.

"were you the one who told yunho i was moving?"

he looks up from his bowl at that with blinking eyes, placing it down on the table and shakes his head, his mouth still full.

"why would i do that? then i'd have competitions for who's gonna help you move in."

you laugh at that, placing your utensils down and resting your hands on your lap.

"how's yunho?" you ask, because even if you don't wanna think about it, yunho has been a part of your life. someone you clung onto for a large chunk of it, and it wouldn't be realistic if you were completely over it within just the span of a few months.

you no longer want to be with him, and you no longer think of the what ifs, but it does sting and ache a little when the reminder of the events comes up once in a while.

still, you wouldn't change anything and any regrets you've had, you feel you've already made amends with; only hoping to not make any more.

"he's been doing good," san answers. "the best i've seen from him in a while."

you smile, mumbling, "that's good to hear."

you don't know if you could ever say it to your sister, but for what it is-- whether good or bad, they deserve each other. yunho and her.

they've always been more alike and compatible than you and yunho could ever be and it was something you struggled accepting for the longest time.

"what about you? how are you doing?" san questions, catching your gaze in his. "i know it hasn't been easy."

because san acknowledges it, too. how much yunho meant to you. that you used to see nothing and no one else but only yunho.

"better," you assure, a soft and comforting smile on your lips while you pause and hold the exact words you want to say, letting it go when you feel most ready. "better because of you."

you see san swallowing and his food and the chopsticks he was previously holding now forgotten on the table as he continues giving you his full attention.

"you were there for me when i needed someone the most, and you're still here for me. i don't know..." you practically murmur the last part, shaking your head and chuckling quietly, "i liked yunho a lot because it seemed he was the first person who accepted me for who i am."

you sound like a broken record at this point, but talking about it--your feelings, and especially to san helps you understand it better.

"i was too stupid and uncaring in the eyes of my parents, and too odd and indecipherable in the eyes of everyone else. kind of ironic, isn't it? i hated the fact people judged me without knowing me when i, too, judged you without knowing enough of you."

san listens and he knows this is it. you're pouring all of your heart out with nothing left to hide, whether it's things you've already said or haven't.

you ramble on, "i mean, i always thought some of them might end up liking me if they got to know me, and then that turned out to be true for you, too. i got to know more about you and i do like you..."

san feels his heart caving in, wondering if this might be it as well. a moment he's been waiting so long to happen but unsure if you wanted it as soon and as much as he does.

"is this a confession?" he tries his best for it to come out as light hearted as possible, an attempt to conceal just how on edge he actually is.

there's a pause before you answer, shaky voice and all. "i guess so."

but san doesn't celebrate his victory too early, yet; a "but" coming out of you quick enough to stop him.

"i'm just afraid," you finally admit to him the very thing weighing you down, and why even though you like him, you're just the slightest skeptical actually doing something about it.

"what are you afraid of?" he asks concernedly, desperate to resolve all and any doubts you have.

you take a short breath. "just the entire thing with yunho... i keep fearing the same thing will happen. when i texted you that night that i was going to japan, it wasn't just because i was jealous, but also because it made me realize if i was only replacing yunho with you. i know that's not the case because what i feel for you is different from what i felt for yunho, but i still can't shake it off."

you're talking so fast, you don't even catch the exact moment san's already moved from across you to right beside you, taking your hands into his and looking you in the eyes.

"i promise you that what happened with yunho won't happen with me," he says, passion in his voice wishing for you to believe him. "i will make sure it won't."

and you do want to believe him. end all the doubts and skepticism here, but you also wanna be honest.

"but the way you are, san... it makes it hard for me even if i wanna believe you. you change girls like you change your underwear. how would i know for sure giving this a chance won't be a mistake?"

you can feel the way san tenses up at the harsher words, maybe a hint of hurt in his dull eyes, but he gathers himself rather quickly for his turn.

"i understand. i don't blame you given i don't exactly have the best track record, and i don't know for sure if this is gonna be a mistake, but i do wanna give it a chance... if you want, of course."

he takes a short pause before continuing, "i've never been with two girls at once, and i always broke things off if i don't see it working out. and if i don't want anything serious, i let them know. but i've never felt the way i'm feeling for you right now for anyone else, ever, and it's something that i'm sure of the more i'm with you."

you blink at that, your stomach tightening and breath shallow, the scene much more intense and real than the first night when you two first talked about this mutual interest.

"i always thought that it was because we grew up together, and that definitely played some part, but i also grew up with minjeong and never really felt anything particular about her. i do like you a lot, so let the decision be in your hand whether you want more out of this or not. you already know my answer."

his grip on your hands has become looser with time, the food and drink now long forgotten, the only thing in your mind is the way he's looking at you and how important your next few words are.

"we can give it a try," you slowly and quietly answer, watching san's pupils go wide as he breaks out into a wide smile after.

"thank you," he manages to say calmly and coolly despite his body feeling anything but that.

he places a kiss to the top of your hand, prompting you to pull away in fake disgust and a laughter.

"i guess dreams do come true after all," he jokes, another one that makes you roll your eyes, feeling a little shy all of a sudden.

"well i'm gonna go wash my dishes," you attempt to switch the subject, grabbing your bowl and untensils and head for the kitchen.

san quirks an eyebrow and raises his voice from his seat.

"but there's still so much food left." he stares at the amount left, then back to you, getting off the floor himself to follow behind, watching as you turn on the faucet and completely ignore him.

"oh i know what this is." he smirks, overtaking your hand and turning off the faucet, finally getting a reaction out of you as you snap your neck his way. "you're shy."

you blink, swallowing a quick knot and shake your head.

"i'm not," you say, turning back to aim for the faucet, but san beats you again, a stare-off ensuing with amusement written all over his eyes.

"you are. is it because it's weird we're practically girlfriend and boyfriend now?" he tilts his head.

hearing the terms out loud definitely is weird, you can't even deny the fact, instead nodding your head that gets a snicker out from san.

"yeah, it's gonna take some time for sure." he smiles, and the volume and tone at which he says it almost like he's trying to seduce you.

you've just realized how sensual and close you guys are at this angle. your back against the sink and chest basically rubbing his own as he's cornered you into this state, gawking down at you with a look that makes you wanna cower.

the quietest air goes by with his head only lowering each second, and you realize it, too, that you wanna kiss him just as bad.

with a close of your eyes, his lips is on yours the next, still at first, then slowly moving in an attempt to find the perfect rhythm until you respond.

your hands find itself resting on the counter of the sink as the kiss makes your back dig into the edge. it isn't messy nor done sloppily despite how long san's been waiting for the moment again.

it's rather clean but passionate, giving san a kick back to the night he got to taste you for the first time even if you both weren't in the right state of minds, but it's one he doesn't forget easily.

both his grip has made way to rest at your hips, giving it a light squeeze and it doesn't take long for your arms to come up and around his shoulders, the scene taking a quick turn and you feel yourself losing your breath with each passing second.

when you both finally pull away, you nor san know how many minutes has gone by, only that his hair is already messy and tangled when you haven't even done much to it, and you're still trying to catch your breath.

you're the first to break into a small giggle with san following after, his grip still at your hips and your arms still around his shoulders.

"wow. that kiss already made me hard as a rock," san blurts, breaking the immersion as you roll your eyes.

"yeah, i can tell," you reply, shifting your legs slightly because the entire time, san's boner was pressing down on it.

he laughs shamelessly, proceeding to press only harder because he likes seeing your reaction, and he takes it you're fine with it because you're no longer fighting it.

"tell me, are you the type to have sex first date?" he asks, his head slightly tilted and honestly looking so attractive.

"not really," you answer. "but is this really a first date?" you say it with the tiniest slyness and coyness, a lot of initial hesitation but when you really think about it, there's no reason to not sleep with san at this point.

especially at your age and with the little experiences you have, it's about time. beside, you always hear it's good to know and discover your sexual chemistry with someone in the early stages, because often than not, incompatibilities in that regard can destroy a relationship perfectly fine in other aspects.

"you're right." san smirks, causing a small squeak from you when he snakes his arms aroud your butt suddenly and lifts you onto the counter, but you stop him before he can do anything else.

"wait. can we do this in the bedroom instead? i'd just prefer my kitchen to be, you know... clean, since this is where i cook."

he laughs, catching the way your eyelashes would flutter cutely and nods his head, helping you down onto the floor again.

"thanks," you say, barely able to fix the wrinkles of your pants when he grabs your wrist and leads you to the bedroom, proceeding to throw you down on the bed the softest he can as he hovers over you.

the current position a bit unreal because san never really thought it would happen.

"just out of curiosity," san starts, "have you ever slept with yunho?"

you bite your lower lip and shake your head. "never any penetrations. he always said that should wait till marriage."

it's not that you didn't wanna sleep with yunho, but the other way around it seems. and now you know why.

san quirks his lips to the side and accepts the answer.

"if i did, would you not want to sleep with me anymore?" you ask just for the sake of his response, mirth in your eyes and amusement hanging by your tongue.

he cranks an eyebrow and actually thinks about it.

"that would be kind of nasty, i'm not gonna lie," he says, much to a laughter in response. "so i'm glad that's not the case."

"yeah, thankfully," you say after, teasing him slightly.

the both of you stay still for a few seconds more before san takes it as a sign to lower his lips again to capture yours for another kiss.

he lets his body fall on top of yours gently, his weight heavy but nice as you're comforted by the warmth of his skin that makes you feel even closer to him.

you hear and feel him shift, lifting his left arm off the bed to find the end of your shirt and bury his fingers underneath to where the bare of your skin is.

you can't help the low whimper at the sensation of his fingers crawling on your skin and making way to where your bra is, flinching just the slightest when his entire hand cups the shape of your breast.

he breaks the kiss to look down at your already messy state, whispering, "always wanted to know how these felt." the comment making you bite at your lower lip again, something so alluring about the way he says it.

you take it upon yourself to sit up, san removing his hand to watch you undress your top, the way you do it so sensually and almost teasingly like a scene straight from some porn video.

he's almost too into the sight, he forgets you're actually in front of him all flesh and bones, until you've already rid of everything and calling his name.

your titties out and spilling, the actual thing better than he could have imagined. better than all those times he'd spend trying to make them out and just picture how your actual breasts look.

"fuck, you're so hot, y/n," he hiss, the frustration on him makes you giggle before he latches on with both his hands and takes a dive, one nipple in his mouth and the other one being fondled with.

a moan escapes your mouth at the wetness of his tongue circling one of your nipples, throwing your head back to stare at the ceiling and holding back an even louder moan when he squeezes your other one.

it goes on for a few minute at least; how he switches back and forth between your breasts and hand always on the other to make sure it's not neglected, whether he's groping it or playing with it.

"san," you call his name, his eyes shooting up to look at you with lips red from the service. you don't say anything, instead calmly getting on your knees and breaking the contact with san as he tries to guess your next move.

your gaze moves to his crotch area and he gets the message instantly, smirking in return.

he spreads his legs merrily as you crawl closer, one last look of exchange before you reach for the hem of his shorts, pulling it down along his boxer underneath just enough for his hard cock to spring itself out, his length sitting straight up and making you swallow a knot.

he adjusts himself enough for you to sit yourself between his legs, gaining the perfect access to do what you need to do.

with a careful grip, his cock is in your hold as you're stroking it up and down, observing the sight of him rolling his eyes and looking just so hot; all the more reasons you wanna have sex with him.

he isn't too long in length, but his girth is quite thick and just enough for you.

you get ready to take him in, lowering your head each passing second and stroking it faster until your tongue licks over the tip of his cock and he releases the sexiest moan ever as a result.

one of your hands still grip the rest of his cock while your mouth stays on the tip of it until you're there long enough, tilting your head to lick the side and and coating every inch of it before starting from the top again and taking his entire length in the best you can.

there's tears in your eyes the lower you go, but you also know just when to stop, coming back up just below the tip and going down again, repeating the action until you see san is a groaning mess of pleasure.

nothing but "fuck" comes out of his mouth, his right hand having found itself on a bundle of your hair, helping and guiding you as you give him the blowjob of his life.

he lets go and you pull away after some time, both of you huffing and puffing, smiles crossing your lips when both your eyes meet.

"jesus, you suck cock like you've done it a thousand times before," he comments, because his own is still recovering.

you sucked his cock as if yunho wasn't your only sexual experience.

but you only smirk and shrug, replying mischievously, "i have my ways."

he doesn't have time to think about that right now, though. all he wanna do is be inside of you. fuck you into the mattress and make you feel so good, and he's glad you feel the same with how you're already wrapping your arms around him and pulling him down as your back hits the sheet.

he kisses your accepting lips once more before breaking it to ask you, "you ready?" to which you nod and already starts pushing at the hem of your own pants, san helping you when he catches on, thrusting it until it's off all the way with you kicking it onto the floor.

san catches the light pink lace panties you have on, smiling to himself not long before you also throw that off, now left in nothing but to feel the most naked you have ever been in the presence of someone else.

you can feel san's length brushing the inside of your thighs and it only makes you wanna speed up the process, telling him you're ready.

he creeps his fingers to your opening to prep you up, sticking two in and the wetness already coating him that instant while a low grunt escapes your lips.

he takes it out with a pop and you pant, watching as he gives it a once over on his tongue, clearing all residues off his fingers before gripping his cock for your entrance.

it's suddenly as if you've forgotten how to breathe while you just wait for that delicious and burning stretch, groaning when you feel the tip enter, already leaning your head back as you squint your eyes.

then instantaneously and surprisingly, san shoves in his entire cock, the loudest moan yet leaving you and shortly accompanied by a passionate, "shit!" your arms digging into his shoulders already as you try getting used to the feeling.

your collection of dildos and vibrators nothing compared to the real thing as your back arches when he starts moving.

he thinks you look so sexy like this. under him and taking his cock so well. he'll fuck you, and he'll fuck you good for all those times back then when you'd always say you'd never fuck him.

for all those times you'd hurl insults his way and act as if you don't even wanna be in the same room as him.

but he's going to fuck you good, too, because he wanna love you. he wanna be with you and show you the love he's capable of; hoping this is a start.

he buries his face into your neck while he fucks into you, getting grunts and moans in response and he doesn't stop until he feels himself about to come, removing himself from your neck and hair to see the pleasure overtaking your face; a light smirk on your lips and eyes rolled back.

"i'm gonna pull out, okay, baby?" he whispers into your ear that you nod to, placing a kiss to your cheek after and getting up, pulling out of you and leaving your inside so empty now that you've come to love the feeling.

he pumps his cock a few times before shooting his load onto your stomach, your gaze fixated on it before he grabs both your legs and hangs it over his shoulders, going on to scoot you closer with a grip of your waist.

you're not sure what he's gonna do until you feel his warm fingers rubbing over the entrance of your vagina.

"can't leave you hanging," he says simply, his middle finger especially running up and down, then he slowly enters it along with his index as the sensation comes back even if not as fulfilling as his cock.

he keeps thrusting until your wall closes in on his fingers and a look of euphoria crosses your expression, pulling out sloppily and throwing his body down next to yours while you're still trying to catch your breath.

"how are you feeling?" he asks, moving a strand of hair covering your eyes behind your ear.

"good," you answer. "and you?"

"the best i've been in a while."

you both enjoy the temporary silence with the occasional breathing of the other person, staring back at the each other for what feels like a long time and a smile on both your lips.

san finally sits up and blinks down at you, offering a hand.

"let's go get cleaned up, and make sure you pee."

a relationship with san isn't gonna come without problems and challenges, but you suppose love is all about giving it a chance and putting efforts into it, and you wanna put all you've got and see where this goes.

a/n: welp, girls or boys... i am not happy with it but i'm glad it's over lol. (taglist gonna look mad weird bc it was being a bitch / apology to anyone who got tagged like twice. also removed lots of ppl who deactivated)

taglist: @freeandrealme @shingene @cherrychristie @softie00 @crimson-mia

@hexheathen @lixpixstix @atinytease @turtash @moonseonghwa

@justineasian @sannie-pudding @itsokaytobedumb00 @nerdy-kimchi

@fannyxmh @acciocriativity @mel-the-mad-hatter @diorwoo @devilsmatches

@kyume02 @distvrbia @wonwowzers @endeav0rsb1tch

@sannwa @brown88 @eburneon @hotteokhatyu @yeosangsbiceps

@sankatchu @harusoraa @ad0rechuu @woojirang @revehosh

@byunniebaekhyunnie @nabi-sannie @gugggu6gvai @rockstarsanie

@shakalakaboomboo

@yeosangsbbg @yawnzshit @avantalem @lelaleleb @mountiiny

@svintsandghosts @kkayfan @arinyyy

@nevieatiny @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad

@nescaffei @vixensss @santineez

[mookarts]

this one's for all the horny gaster lovers out there (aka the gaster fanclub discord server this is your fault for giving me ideas with loose collars..!!!)

under the cut is some concept art i made for what i think gaster looks like under. well. his clothes. just to make sense of the whole loose collar thing. because 1) i cant and dont want to draw skeletons and 2) i dont really imagine gaster much of a skeleton and more just a figure made of bone and held together with goop and i figured that i might as well jot down what that looks like to me

[rememberwren]

Been thinking about the day Johnny’s mouth takes him too far while the two of you are fucking and he calls you a slut.

He’s probably done it often enough before with other women and partners. He personally likes a little degradation himself in the moment, so it feels odd to imagine that there are people out there who don’t. He’s a little self-centered that way.

I can imagine him above you pinning you to the bed, both your figures sweat-slicked. Your hands around his shoulders, nails digging into his back as he tries to drill his cock through you and into the mattress. He’d been edging you for a while, working you up to a plateau that he refuses to let you tumble over, and it has you a little more vocal than usual. A little less composed. A little more needy.

He thinks you’re perfect like this, brain leaking from your ears, mouth parted in a perpetual gasp, throat going raw from all your pleadings. Johnny’s naturally a yapper, so he’s probably been providing in depth (we’re talking unabridged War And Peace length) narration of the entire event, and it seems like such a small thing for him to slip the word amongst all the praises he lavishes on you.

He doesn’t understand why you go stiff and shocked underneath him.

“I’m not a slut,” you mutter into the silence when his thrusts stop abruptly. Except you kind of were acting like one, weren’t you? Moaning and gasping, begging. For the first time with Johnny, you feel ashamed. Embarrassed by your reaction to the sex and by your reaction to the word in equal measure.

Credit to himself, Johnny knows when the moment has passed. He slips out of you and gathers you up even against your embarrassed protests—God, you’re fine, it’s not a big deal, it just caught you off guard that’s all!—and apologizes, reaffirms to you that he doesn’t really think such a thing about you. He doesn’t even really believe in sluts; why shouldn’t people do and crave the things that feel good? That’s just human nature, baby.

I imagine you listen and nod along to his heartfelt apologies (and of course you know he means them), but he can see the sawdust-sized speck of anxiety in your eye that doesn’t dissipate. He knows that the window of opportunity to snuff out that ember is closing fast, so his method of drowning it out is to pin you down and to show you what real slut behavior looks like.

[flamingpudding]

Bat dad meet Ghost dad

Several years earlier....

"JAAAAAAZZZZZZZZ!" Danny flew excited through the Ghost Zone with a little kid in his arms rushing past some of his former rogues as he made a B-Line for his sister that happened to be in the Zone too, currently in a deep conversation with Frostbite about something Danny hadn't cared to pay attention to long enough. But right now he had exciting news he really wanted to share with his sister. Even now as adults Danny tented to live out his childishness whenever he could especially when he and his family went into the Ghost Zone.

The Halfa came to a screeching halt as he grined brightly at his sister who looked back at him with a raised eyebrow, slightly amused at her younger brothers giddiness. "What is it Danny?"

"I got a son now!" Danny declared happily holding up a young ghost teen by the armpits into his sisters face.

The 'son' in Danny's hands stared at Jazz blinking owlishly as if the teen boy still needed a moment to catch up with what was going on and Jazz blinked back at the ghost and then at Danny. That was not a child but a teen ghost. Going by the size the kid was probably around 14 or 15 and he looked very much traumatised and Jazz could not tell if that was because of Danny or because of how the teen possible died.

"Danny what did you-" Her brother did not let her finish her question as he started rambling excitedly.

"He is a baby ghost Jazz! Look how young he is! I found him floating around aimlessly, his hunt hasn't even fully formed yet and when i picked him up there was that instant connection! You know the same-"

"Danny."

"I have with Clockwork and Pandora! I instantly knew he was mine! Mine to protect! Mine to guide! When I saw him I swear I just knew, I ghost adopted him the moment I made contact! He is family Jazz-"

"Danny."

"I just know he belongs with us! Look at him and tell me he doesn't have Fenton charms! I am sure Dan and Dani will love him too! He is such a cute little ghost! There is so much I can teach him! I will be the best dad ever to this wonderful little baby ghost! And-"

"Daniel William James Fenton!"

Danny bite his tongue instantly silenced when Jazz pulled out the full name call. Both him and the teen in his arms stared at her a bit shell shocked and in that moment Jazz couldn't help but hide a small amused smile at how similar Danny and the teen in his arms looked when they stared at her.

"Did you explain any of this to him?" She indicated to the teen, who's name she by the way still didn't know. Danny at least had the curtesy to look a little ashamed as Jazz pointed that out and let go of the teen so they could float on their own. She sighed with a fond smile before looking at the teen that looked a bit unsure between her and Danny now.

"What's your name?" She asked them with a friendly and encouraging smile.

"Jason...."

Current time...

Jason was in a little bit of a predicament. Originally he really thought he never would end up in this kind of situation espacially since he didn't think he would patch up things with Bruce any time soon. But we'll here he was...

Life liked proofing him wrong.

Like with he fact that Jason could use a ghost wail in dire situation. And that something like that would naturally call his ghost dad onto the scene since he collapsed after it.

And like with how he woke up in the bat caves med bay with both Danny and Bruce standing over him and glaring at each other. Or at least he thought they were glaring at each other that looked like a pretty annoyed stare in his eyes from Danny and Bruce's jaw was really tense from what was visible and not covered by his cowl.

So all Jason could do was endure at the moment. Aaaaand refuse to make eye contact with any of his present siblings. Mainly Dick because he wasn't sure how to interpret the others' smiles. For a moment Jason wondered if he could hide out in his ghost-dad's castle in the Ghost Zone for a while until whatever storm was brewing with Bruce was over.

There was also a moment in which Jason wondered if there could have been anything done to avoid this... confrontation(?). Before feeling the need to face palm because his Aunt that sort of has been giving him free therapy told him repeatedly that communication was key. He never regretted not listening to her more than he was right now.

To be fair. Communication with Bruce espacially hadn't been his strong suit for a while now before and after his death.

"So you are his Bat-Dad?" Jason did not like the way Danny, his ghost dad was using the word 'dad' right now. Oh good was he trying to challenge Bruce?

"And you are his Ghost-Dad?" Bruce grunted, oh now Jason was sure Bruce was giving Danny a glare, and Danny was getting that protective look in his eyes Jason was all to familiar with from his time as a dead baby ghost.

He groaned loudly sinking lower onto the medbed. Why did these things always have to happen to him? At least he was lucky that his Ghost Aunt and Uncle didn't show up too.

[l1tw1ck]

The Fall of Spider-Man

bottom!ftm Miguel x top!masc!villain reader

🕷️ Word Count: 1,897 🕷️

AFAB Language Used

CW: Non-Con, Kidnapping, Lingerie, Fingering, Squirting, Cunnilingus, Overstimulation, Crying, Corruption, Creampie, Nipple Play, Pregnancy Mention, Stockholm Syndrome (Kinda?)

Miguel’s eyes shoot open. He immediately analyzes his surroundings. He’s tied up and on the floor. He can't see anything but he can tell he’s wearing lingerie. He feels sick. His first instinct is to try and get out of his restraints but no matter how hard he tries, nothing happens. He’s powerless. How? Why? When? Where the hell is he? He looks around the dark room, stopping to look at a door. There's light coming from behind it and he can hear movements. Footsteps. Getting closer and closer.

“You’re awake! Good morning, Miguel.” You smile, turning the lights on before walking towards him. “How are you feeling?”

“Who are you?” He asks.

You give him your name. “The person who's going to defeat Spider-Man once and for all.” You grin. “Although my methods are a bit unconventional.” You chuckle.

Miguel keeps his mouth shut, waiting to hear what you have to say next. Your confidence scares him. It's not like he's never met a confident villain before, it's honestly less likely to meet an insecure one, but your confidence is scary. You know something he doesn't. He knows you're dangerous. He always chooses to fight but everything inside him is screaming to run away. It's not like he has the choice now though.

“Pretty soon, you’ll be my beautiful husband and the father of our children.” You kiss his forehead. His heart drops. “But first, I’m gonna have some fun with you.” You kneel down and caress his cheek. He grimaces in disgust. “Let me give you the play by play.” You push his lacy red panties aside. “First, I’m gonna play with this pretty pussy of yours and give it a lot of love.” You rub his clit. “Then, once I’m done, I’m gonna slide my cock inside of you. I’ll make sure to go real slow, make you feel every inch of my cock.” You bring your fingers down to his entrance and push two of them in.

“Yo- you're sick.” He spits on you.

You wipe your cheek. “I didn't give you permission to speak, or spit.” You slap his cunt, earning a moan from him. “Watch yourself, Miguel.”

He looks at you angrily but doesn't say anything, too ashamed of the sound he just made and too afraid of the consequences to do so. You push your fingers in and out of his cunt, giving Miguel unwelcomed pleasure. “You like that?” You smirk, moving faster. He bites his lip to silence his moans. “I know you do. Even if you try to deny it, your body doesn't lie.”

He hates this so much.

“And then, I’ll pick up the pace. I’ll fuck you rough and hard. So rough that you won't be able to think. So hard that you’ll cry.” You push your fingers all the way in and thumb his clit, moving your fingers inside of him absentmindedly. He tries to fight against the pleasure but it's no use. He’s going to come.

“I’d love to see you cry.” You grin. He’s not going to cry. He might do a plethora of shameful things tonight but one thing he isn't going to do is cry. He refuses to. “I know you think it's impossible but it's not. And I can't wait to see you break.” You punctuate your last word with a hit to his g-spot. Miguel gasps, hips raising in the air as he squirts. Miguel looks down at himself in shame, cheeks burning hotter than a flame. He’s never done that before. He hates that you're the reason it happened. “Oh Miguel…” You let out a sharp breath.

You move in between his legs and dig into his wet cunt, slurping up his slick before tonguing his sensitive hole. Miguel squirms around in protest. Why does this feel so good? He wants to curse you out but he's worried about what you’ll do if he acts out. He feels terrible and so fucking good at the same time. He wants to kill you but he also doesn't want you to stop. He rolls his eyes back and squirts again, feeling extremely exhausted.

You pull away and stand up, stripping down to nothing. Miguel looks at your cock in horror. That's not going to fit! He desperately tries to get away but he can't do much in the position he's in.

“You’re really boosting my ego, Miguel.” You chuckle, kneeling back down and grabbing his waist. You pull him close to you so his thighs are on yours and your shaft is right against his cunt. “I’m going to enjoy this.” You look at him like the 5 star meal he is. You move him so that his pussy is sliding up and down your length, bringing the both of you pleasure.

He bares his fangs, showing you how angry he is without speaking. “Aw, you don't like this?” You frown, faking sympathy. “Or is it that you want something else?” You grin. “You want me to fuck you, is that it? You want me to finally fuck you?”

Miguel shakes his head rapidly. You move him backwards, just enough for you to be able to make an easier entrance. You point your tip against his clit, smearing pre cum over it and sliding down in between his folds. You tease him with your entrance, you're gently thrusting into him but only the tip is entering him. He can't stand the feeling. You eventually stop and slowly push your cock inside of him. You weren't exaggerating when you said he’d feel every inch of you. You’re practically tearing him apart with the way you’re stretching him out. You bite your lip, thoroughly enjoying his pussy. “I think I’m in heaven.”

If you’re in heaven, then Miguel’s in hell. You slowly slide in and out of him, reveling in his wet warmth. “That's right baby, sit back and take it like the pretty little slut you are.” You place your hand over the bulge of your cock on his stomach, enjoying the way it feels as you move and how sexy he looks with his tummy bulging. “You’re doing so good for me, you know that? Doing so well…”

He doesn't want to be good for you. He doesn't want you to enjoy this. If he wasn't afraid of the consequences he’d curse you out. You rub his clit gently, causing his breathing to turn shallow. “I wanna feel you come..” You mutter. “Come for me, baby.”

He grits his teeth, trying to stop himself from giving you what you want but it's too difficult. He can't hold back. It all feels too good, his pussy feels way too good, he can't do anything to prevent this. He shuts his eyes and comes, walls fluttering around your length. “You’re such a good boy, Miguel. You may be prickly but at least you know how to follow orders.” You caress his cheek. He turns away from your touch. “Even after all that…you're still trying to keep up this facade?” You pull away and turn him onto his stomach. “You won't be able to pretend any longer, Miguel.” You raise his ass in the air and plunge your length fully into him. He gasps. Miguel doesn't even get a minute to adjust to the new position thanks to you suddenly pounding into him. He rolls his eyes back, letting out uncontrollable moans as you fuck the shame out of him. He can barely think over the explicit sounds of your hips snapping against his ass and the loud wet sounds of your cock sliding in and out of his sensitive pussy. You're going too fast for him to even try and act like he doesn't like it. He’s always had a thing for being treated roughly and you're fulfilling his need for it. You pull on his hair, causing him to let out an almost scream-like moan as he squirts.

“Fu- fuck-” He feels tears welling up in his eyes as you continue fucking him through his orgasm.

“‘M gonna give you the child you always wanted, Miguel.” You fuck him even rougher than before, chasing your orgasm. Tears flow rapidly from Miguel’s eyes, as if there was a blockage that contained all his tears and prevented him from crying all these years. He sobs, crying loudly as you overwhelm him with pleasure. It feels good but it's too much, he can't handle it. He loves it but he needs it to stop. “Ah, I love hearing you cry..” You slow down your thrusts and dump your load inside of him. Miguel uses this break to finally catch his breath and calm down.

“Aw, was it too much for you, baby?” You coo, rubbing your hand down his back.

Miguel nods. “Ple- please..” He whimpers.

You pull out and turn him around. You pick him up and sink him down on your cock. You place your hands on his waist and kiss his cheek. “You’re so pretty when you cry, you know that?” You caress his face gently. He sniffles, not sure how to feel about that. You press your lips against his, kissing him slowly and sensually. Miguel reciprocates the kiss, following your tongue movements and subconsciously grinding down on your cock. He feels a little less stimulated than before. He feels like he's about to have an orgasm that’ll never come and somehow it feels good. He doesn't know how he feels about you now but you make him feel good, and thanks to the current state of mind he's in now, that's all that matters.

You pull away from the kiss and pepper kisses down his throat and to his chest. You undo the clip in the middle of his bra, causing the two cups to separate and reveal his breasts. You latch onto his nipple, sucking it gently while your hand goes to pull and twist on the other one. Miguel whimpers in pleasure. His nipples are so sensitive, he’ll definitely come from this. “mmh..” Miguel grinds down harder as he orgasms, his pussy clenching and unclenching around your length. You pull away from his nipple, your saliva dripping down the brown bud.

He still despises you but he knows he'll be stuck with you from now on. He’ll eventually learn to love you.

Miguel turns on the radio as he starts cooking breakfast. The reporter talks about all the crime going on in the city and he doesn't seem to care, even though he’s back to normal and completely autonomous, he has no intention of going out to fight. He wants to stay home with you. The Spider Society’s been trying to contact him but he's ignored all their calls. He only leaves the house for dates and groceries, why would he go anywhere without you? He loves you so much, he wants to stay by your side as much as he can. Nobody seems to understand it but he doesn't care to explain it to them. Peter B. and Jessica have been trying to convince Miguel to come back and many spider people have tried to kill you but to no avail. He doesn't want to come back, especially not when they're trying to kill his beloved. He’s perfectly content with where he is now and he can't wait to have his first child with you.

[cold-kitty]

Hello! Can we please get more Yan!Naga? Maybe after reader is healed and reader is trying to leave?

Dear lord I'm praying for you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Contains: kidnapping, abuse (just really really bad), terror, regret, angsty(?), non-human yandere.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yan!Naga who expected it honestly. he knew you were scared of him, so he saw it coming.

Yan!Naga who prepared for this, he had a whole plan ready. he gave you a double dosage of affection after it, trying to give you every reason to stay.

but... you try again?

Yan!Naga who is heartbroken. he doesn't know what to do. i did everything right! everything and he still doesn't love me... *sniffle*

Yan!Naga who definitely cries. like, bawling and sobbing. he knows he can't waste time getting to you, but it's so hard to get up for him.

Yan!Naga who lugs himself off the bed - still sniffling - and bursts out of the cabin.

Yan!Naga who doesn't find you as quickly as the first time, but he does nonetheless.

Yan!Naga who tackles you, full on body slamming you into the ground and knocking the air out of your lungs.

Yan!Naga who buries his face into your stomach, crying. why!? i'm really trying, really really trying! *wailing*

Yan!Naga whose heart only breaks more as you try to pull away, and he knows he has to do something.

you couldn't move when you were injured, you had to stay. you had to.

Yan!Naga who cries as he moves down your body, his tail keeping you tight in place. i'm sorry! i'm so sorry but i need to do this, i need you to stay!

Yan!Naga who grabs your ankle, cradling it like a baby. but that doesn't last long before-

CRUNCH

oh. oh no no no no no no no no no no no no no that was worse than it was supposed to be...

Yan!Naga who wails, his body shaking. he looks so heartbroken, so disgustingly desperate.

Yan!Naga who purposely had his tail in your mouth, muffling your scream.

Yan!Naga who only meant to twist your ankle, not to have a bone sticking out of your leg. i-i can fix it! please, PLEASE DON'T HATE ME!

Yan!Naga who keeps you silenced, letting you bite down on his tail as hard as you want to help with the pain. he can't even look at you right now he's so ashamed.

Yan!Naga who picks you up as gently as he possibly can, cradling you like stardust. he moves as fast as he can to get to the cabin, still sobbing his heart out.

Yan!Naga who handles the wound well, and it heals pretty good for such a thing.

Yan!Naga who had refused to go around you unless needed, ashamed.

Yan!Naga who dislikes the way you stare at him from them on, pure terror.

Yan!Naga who really tries to make things normal again - and almost succeeds - but there's always something, an underlying something that was different.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Naga is a crybaby, but this time it was reasonable. And I know what you're thinking, "how does he do that instead of twisting your ankle? he meant to!" non-human. he doesn't understand exactly how brittle your bones are.

~🐈‍⬛

[autisticgaypirates]

nap time headcanons!!! ╰(*´︶`*)╯

since i'm laying in my bed and i'm really tired but not tired enough to actually sleep, let's do cuddling/napping with some of these guys shall we?

i wanna say gn!reader but it might lean a little towards fem!reader if you squint really hard

includes zoro, sanji, and ace

zoro *･゜ﾟ･*:｡.:*･

- guys i love zoro and i want him so bad but he does NOT cuddle

- like you'll try to put your head on his shoulder and he'll kinda tense up and even flex his muscles so you get off

- he really does hate to show affection

- ... in public

- in private, he'll lock the door and just wait for you to plop on top of his chest

- and this man has bazongas so it's soft and plush and nice to lay your head on

- he likes brushing his hands on your sides and tracing your curves, squeezing the parts he likes (usually the thicker areas, he likes a girl with curves)

- and then right when you feel the most comfortable...

- "ok switch"

- he LOVESS to lay between your thighs and lay his head on your belly, he literally holds onto your thighs like those overhead restraints on roller coasters

- he likes when you play with his hair (even though it's sometimes pretty sweaty and gross) and loves when you scratch his head

- not even 5 minutes into the cuddling session and he's out cold

- how do you know he's not just resting his eyes?

- this man snores like a chainsaw on the highest setting in a room that echoes.

- and it happens in literally like . 2 minutes ?? like how does he manage to fall into such a deep sleep that fast????

- when he's out cold, he's out COLDD he's not doing anything else for the day unless it's an absolutely emergency

- he's still death gripping on your legs tho so you literally can't even move

- as he relaxes into his sleep though, he does loosen his grip and you're finally able to escape and lay next to him

- cuddling into his side is the best, you just feel so safe and protected, like he's your personal bodyguard

- when you first got together, the snoring took a LONGGGG time to get used to, but now it's kinda like white noise and you can't sleep in silence anymore

- very still when he sleeps, just like shifts his legs or moves his arm, he'll never be a bother in that sense

- however, you always manage to wake up with his hand on your ass...

sanji *･゜ﾟ･*:｡.:*･

- oh this diva...

- he'll take ANY chance he can to get physical affection from you

- you'll literally just reach to hold his hand and- ok guess he's carrying you bridal style now!

- goes FERAL when you sit on his lap, especially in public

- he even has trouble speaking when you do, like he's so flustered and overwhelmed

- that's usually the cue for you two to go have some alone time

- when you two are alone, he closes and locks the door, not because he's ashamed of being seen with in (he would love the world to see it)

- it's just he wants to be babied SOOO BADDD

- he wants you to hold him close to your chest and just tell him sweet things while he curls your hair around his finger

- big fan of spooning, and oddly loves being the little spoon ?? idk he likes that you two just kinda fit together perfectly like a puzzle

- he also likes when you place your head in the crook of his neck, and you being the big spoon just makes that easier

- eventually you stop with the mindless sweet talk and close your eyes, just drifting

- he refused to fall asleep first, he wants to make sure that you're comfortable and content and don't need anything else

- you're his number one priority and he's not afraid to admit that

- eventually you start to shift, and that's when he'll grab the blanket and find a more comfortable position for himself to be in

- he usually lays in his back and holds you close to his side

- ... however this man is COLD

- you feel his icy fingers on your side and it's just like OH!

- but it's ok you get used to it after a couple minutes

- dude is like a corpse when he sleeps, no twitching or moving or anything.. but he does talk in his sleep and things can be a liiiittle weird

- this little freak is ALWAYS dreaming of you, and sometimes the dreams are ,..,.,, not dry

- and he makes that PERFECTLY clear when he sleep talks like how did he manage to share a room with like four or five people in the crew while he's literally moaning in his sleep

- you don't mind though, you actually like when it wakes you up, it means you can make the dreams a reality and tease him

- a nap with sanji doesn't last long for all the right reasons

ace *･゜ﾟ･*:｡.:*･

- POOPSIEKINS!!!!!!!!! i love ace so much

- he doesn't bother to lock or even close the door when you guys are together (unless he has certain intentions i need him so bad THIS ISNT ABOUT THAT anyway)

- he throws himself on the bed and props himself up against the headboard, patting his lap

- you lay on your stomach on top of him every time, being face to face with him is so cute

- he also likes the easy access to your ass, not even for sexual reasons, he's just like "lmao bongos"

- he's such an ass guy, he'll take any chance he can to even brush his hand against your ass

- he always brings your arms up to wrap around his neck, and from there just lets you melt into him

- he's gotta steal a kiss before you lay your head down though

- you both just lay there, chit chatting about nothing, all is well and- oh he's asleep

- he doesn't always have control of when he falls asleep, he has narcolepsy, so you can't even be mad if he falls asleep while you were mid-sentence

- however, much like zoro... he snores like thunder

- with ace, though, you can shut him up

- because he fell asleep with no control over himself, you can manually close his mouth and move his head around like he's a doll

- usually when he has one of spells, he's asleep for like 5-10 minutes maximum, so you try your best to stay up until he falls asleep on his own terms

- when he wakes up, he always gives you a smile and gets you two into a spooning position, him being the big spoon

- the heat from his body feels SO nice when you press against him

- (he also likes that you have your ass up against him)

- he's so cute he'll always ask a million questions before you close your eyes

- "you comfy?" "you need a blanket?" "do you want me to get you some water?" "am i crushing you?"

- he also always asks if he was snoring again, and the answer is always yes, and the response is always that he'll try to catch himself and not disturb you

- you didn't care about that though, you wouldn't have it any other way with ace <3

so i'm definitely a little biased towards ace but i don't care and if you have a problem with it HUSH!!!! thank youuu :3

[hearts4hughes]

JEALOUS LOVER | CORIOLANUS SNOW

young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

summary: coriolanus battles to control his possessive and jealous nature when seeing you with a friend.

note: i’m aware that coriolanus is such a terrible person, but it doesn’t help that they casted tom blyth (the definition of perfect) as him. i couldn’t fight the urge to write about him and i’m glad i didn’t! hope you enjoy!

warnings: borderline toxic relationship?, jealousy, angst w/ a happy ending, fluff, gets a little steamy towards the end (🙈)

coriolanus watched from a distance, his piercing eyes fixated on your every move. as you engaged in conversation with sejanus, a fleeting smile playing on your lips, a storm brewed in his gaze. his jaw clenched; eyes, once crystal blue, were now dark and stormy.

discomfort envelops him, triggering nausea through his chest; he refuses to be treated like a child. however, the simple act or even the notion of you interacting with another man, fuels a visceral anger: clenched fists, muscles tense, poised to eradicate any man who even looks in your direction.

“you’re so funny, sejanus.” you laughed, your hand lightly grazing his bicep. the action was subconscious. a platonic movement that made no one bat an eyelash.

well, except for coriolanus.

his tongue ran over his teeth as he shook his head, trying to control himself. self-control, he repeated over, and over again in his mind. he’d learn how to control himself at such a young age. to know how to mask any emotion in order to appear professional and calm. but one look at you laughing and touching another male had him forgetting all of his previous lessons.

taking a deep breath, he made his way over to you. his attempt to remain composed was unsuccessful. his fair skin was painted deep shades of red; his breath was heavy with anger; his eyes narrowed as he shot daggers at sejanus.

“hi coryo!” you smiled, taking note of his tense stature. “we were just catching up.” your hand motions towards sejanus who greets him. the blonde nods, not impressed with the whole situation.

self-control.

“well, we better get going.” he stated simply, checking his watch. “it’s getting late and i don’t want y/n and i to walk home in the dark.” he feigned a tightlipped smile. your brows furrowed in confusion. it was nowhere near sunset, what had the boy in such a hurry?

“it was nice to see-” your words were cut short as coriolanus grabbed your arm, pulling you away from sejanus and towards the exit. your head turned between both boys before sending sejanus a pitiful smile to which he returned.

as coriolanus whisked you away, the corridor echoed with the abruptness of his hurried steps. his grip on your arm, firm yet possessive, spoke volumes.

the walk home was practically silent. tension sat in the air weighing down both of your shoulders. your gaze remained fixed on coriolanus’s side profile. meanwhile, his eyes remained focused on the sidewalk, meticulously scrutinizing the cracks and crevices in the concrete as if searching for answers in their patterns.

finally, you broke the grueling silence. “coryo, what’s wrong?” your hand finds its way to his, intertwining your fingers. coriolanus, his gaze momentarily lifting from the sidewalk, met your concerned eyes. the weight on his shoulders seemed to lift slightly. his jaw tightened, but his eyes softened, revealing a vulnerability beneath his anger. “it’s nothing,” he muttered, the words carrying the weight of something untold.

your brows furrowed in gentle concern, “you can talk to me. you know that right?” at this point your walking comes to a halt. your hand raises to brush his platinum curls away from his face. he nods, but he doesn’t dare meet your gaze— too ashamed of his pathetic insecurities. at last, he lets out a huff, caving into the warmth of your touch and the sweetness of your words.

“i just… i didn’t like seeing you with him,” he admitted, his tone laced with vulnerability and possessiveness.

“with sejanus?” you inquired.

“yes!” although he raised his voice, his tone was still hushed— embarrassed even. “seeing you with him today, laughing at his jokes and touching his arm, made me,” he paused to take a deep breath, “it all made me jealous.” your hand found its way to his face, your fingers brushing his cheeks soothingly.

“coryo, there’s no need to be jealous,” you reassured, your voice a gentle melody. “there’s no one else i’d rather be with than you.”

the words, a sweet offering of devotion, seemed to fan the flames within him. a smirk played on his lips, ego swelling with satisfaction as his eyes, once dark and stormy, now took on a smoldering gaze. a subtle shift in his demeanor was evident as he wrapped his arms around your waist, hands trailing dangerously close to your ass. without responding, coriolanus leaned in, his lips capturing yours with hunger.

the kiss was fiery and a desperate need for closeness. his hand slid sensuously along the curves of your waist, fingers tracing a path, as if claiming every inch of you. his lips moved with a skilled urgency, exploring the contours of your mouth. your tongues clashed together in each other’s mouths. the blonde swallowed your moans and whines, trapping them.

as you both reluctantly pulled away from the scorching kiss, a lingering heat hung in the air. a sly smirk played on both of your lips.

“you have no idea what you’re doing to me, y/n.” he said, breathlessly. “and i want you to remember that every inch of you is mine.” you smiled, not quiet realizing the toxicity of your boyfriend’s words. you were blinded by his sweet, pleasing words and his gorgeous face structure to even notice.

the rest of the walk was silent, but the air wasn’t filled with a lingering tension. no, if anything, it was filled with a newfound sense of lust and love.

[misstycloud]

Yan.fiancé x royal GN.reader x yan.royal advisor

[Mc’s GN but will still be referred to as King/have traditionally male title]

——

Imagine a yandere prince who’s set to marry the king of a neighbouring kingdom, finding out his future spouse may not have an ounce of space for him in their heart. Especially when it appears like the their faithful, royal advisor might’ve beaten him to it.

This was it, Karim told himself. He was finally going to muster up the courage to ask you out. While you two were already engaged and had a set date for the wedding, he wished to catch your interest the old-fashioned way; the proper way, that is.

He straightened out his shirt and combed through his dark locks one last time before knocking on the professionally made oak door. A voice from inside-which was undoubtedly yours- said ‘enter’ in a monotone pitch.

You were sitting at a large desk(probably for all the paperwork and clutter to have a home), writing in documents that he had no idea what they were for. Your were not alone in the room, though. A tall man stood beside you, seemingly waiting for your every beck and call. His long red hair was tied into a low ponytail that draped over his right shoulder. The man was none other than the royal advisor and the childhood playmate of Kingdom X’s proud monarch, Caecilius. Karim felt a drop of sweat roll down his neck as Caecilius stared at him with such an irritation that he felt wrong for even breathing in the same room. He tried ignoring it and gulped. He guessed the silence was suppose to be an indicator for him to speak first.

“Excuse me, Your Majesty, “ he bowed “I don’t mean to disturb you, but-“

“Then don’t.” You said gruffly, glancing up from your paperwork. Noticing him flinch slightly, you realised it might’ve come out too harshly. You closed your eyes and sighed, silently counting to five in your head before saying, “sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so bitter.” Pinching your eyebrows, you waved with your arm, signalling your fiancé to continue.

He fixed himself(straightening out any wrinkles on his clothes and dragging his fingers through his hair, again) the moment he got your full attention. “Ah, yes, well I was simply wondering if Your Majesty would be interested in joining me in the gardens this afternoon?’ He looked up at you with a glint of hope his eyes, still ignoring Caecilius.

“For what purpose, exactly?” You inquired while resuming working and going over the pile of documents on your desk.

“Oh, um, tea- and other things, of course! I had the cooks prepare muffins and cookies.”

“No.” You said without doubt. If you actually had been looking your fiancé in the eye, you would have seen his shoulders slump in a manner that would have his mother scold him. She’d definitively go on about how many recorses went into raising him and she refused to let him disgrace them by being mopey.

“O-oh, that’s alright. I apologise for disturbing you.” Karim muttered, sounding weak and ashamed by the end.

It might not have been intentional, but you kind of felt like he was trying to guilt trip you. “Karim.”

Said man glanced up at the sound of his name.

“It’s not because I do not enjoy your company. The reason is that I have a lot of work that needs to be done. So please, don’t be disheartened.” You encouraged him with an assuring voice. “We will have tea and snacks together another day, alright?”

Blushing, he responded, “Yes, certainly, Your Majesty.” Karim smiled, and it would’ve all ended well there if it wasn’t for the third person in the room.

“There is no reason to lie, Your Majesty.” Caecilius’ smug tone was like nails on a chalk board to your fiancé. The royal advisor put his hand on your shoulder before facing Karim. “Their Majesty actually doesn’t like tea, and sweets are something they can’t have too much of lest they feel ill. Although, this is something you should have knowledge of considering your position?” The red-haired man let the insult hang in the air.

Karim’s smile had instantly wiped off and he stood there in complete silence, trying to control his emotions while thinking of what to say back.

You were no fool and easily sensed the hostility between the two men who were supposed to be your closest companions for the rest of your lives. Not wanting things to blow out of proportion, you sent a warning look towards your advisor.

“Cecil.”

You were far from in love with Karim, but he was still your future spouse, and that meant he wouldn’t be treated however. At the end of the day, cavil was simply an advisor- albeit a royal one.

“My apologies, Your Majesty.” He stepped back and neutralised his expression, understanding he went too far this time.

You sighed and shook your head in both frustration and disappointment. Your fiancé appeared to have pulled himself together, he slowly excused himself from the scene. “Thank you for your time. I will wait for a day when your are less busy.”

You gave him a nod, an acknowledgement to his departure. The tan young man spun around and left, closing the door softly behind him. And as he did, he thought he saw a slight smirk on the advisor’s face.

——-

It was later in the evening that Karim returned to his chamber. He flung himself on the lavish sheets of his bed and laid there spread out, pretending to be a starfish living in the vast ocean. At least a starfish wouldn’t have to deal with unrequited love, he thought. He would only have to worry about..whatever starfish did.

Grabbing a pillow, he screamed into it. What was he gonna do now? He’d already been living in your kingdom for months now, and the already scarce moment he managed to see you were becoming even fewer. Now two whole weeks could pass without him seeing as much as a glimpse of you. The closest he’d ever get to you was the whisperers of your name from the servants.

In the beginning, when he had first head of his upcoming marriage to you, he was honestly disgusted. That was because he had the impression you’d be a greedy, old man, giggling in his seat to take advantage of a young man. It was totally wrong! That impression was no where near who you actually were. You were neither old nor greedy.

During his stay, Karim had made it his mission to find out just exactly who you were before the wedding, and what better way to gather info than from the servants working in the palace. They work in the inner circle, they know everything! If anyone would know of the king’s bad habits, it’s them. Surprisingly, though, every servant he asked said nothing but positive things about you. While they obviously didn’t know you on an individual level, they couldn’t deny that you were a good person. To summarise all their thoughts : you were a fair and hardworking ruler.

A knock sounded at his door. Karim lifted his head to stare at the door. His personal servant bowed as a show of respect and then properly entered the chamber.

“Your Highness has not eaten dinner. Should I ask the chefs to send a meal up to your room?” She asked.

“No, I’m not hungry.” After thinking breifly he asked the maid, “Is there something in particular that Their Majesty likes?”

The maid was not prepared for this bold question. A little perplexed, she thought to ask to make sure she was correct in her assumption, “I’m not sure I understand completely, Your Highness. Are you referring to Their Majesty’s likes and dislikes?”

Karim nodded and repeated the question.

Feeling somewhat put on the spot, the maid ransacked her brain in what to say, thinking on the things Their Majesty says to enjoy. “Well, they are often engrossed in reading- from what I’ve heard. They go for strolls in the garden, as well.” She tried coming up with something more but found nothing. The maid apologised, “Unfortunatly that is all I can think of. Their Majesty works most of the time and does not have a lot to spare for hobbies.”

Karim held back a sigh, not wanting to make her feel bad for not carrying the answers he wished for. “It’s alright, thank you.”

“May I ask why His Highness ask? Perhaps if I knew the reason I might be of more help.”

Now he felt a bit embarrassed. “Oh..” he scratched his cheek, “Today, I went to request Their Majesty join me in the garden but they declined. The royal advisor even said they don’t like consuming too many sweets, so that may be why. Maybe they simply don’t like me?” Karim wanted to cry at the possibility. Sure, he and Their Majesty might not be getting married because they’re romantic sweethearts, but Karim had a hard time believing he was anywhere near repulsive. He shot uo from his position. “Quick, tell me their preferences in partners!”

“Ehm..”

“You must know something, tell me.” He urged.

The maid gulped and bit her lip. Should she tell him? She did know something; though it was only a rumour, it must hold some truth. She was a mere maid, nothing like the elegant, blue blooded people she in her surroundings. Telling him would surely be a violation.

“Wait!” Karim exclaimed and surprised the maid with his sudden outburst. “Or is it that Their Majesty has never expressed an interest in anyone previously?” It was certanly rare for royals not to have had any lovers, but not impossible. He had to admit, the though made him quite giddy. Imagine if he was Their Majsety’s first.

“Unfortunately, that is not the case, Your Highness.” She said timidly, and upon noticing his dejected expression, added, “Although, they are only rumours so they might not be true at all.”

“What rumours?”

She wondered again whether she was crossing a line but decided to tell Karim anyway. “There have been rumours circling around for a very long time about the king having a lover here at the palace- someone close to them.”

“And how long have these rumours been spreading?” Karim questioned to why he hadn’t heard anything about it and why no one ever bothered to inform him about them. He didn’t know how long was a ‘very long time’ but was keen to find out.

She took a second to answer, “For three years.” She answered finally.

Three years?! He’d be a bit more understanding if it’d just been a few months, three years however, that was way too long. Wincing, Karim contntinued firing questions. “Well, who is it? There has to be an idea of who the kings lover is, right? Tell me.”

Suddenly the maid seemed even more uncomfortable than ever. “You…you have probably already met. He’s always lingering behind Their Majesty- I don’t really think he has a life beyond these walls. And-“

The young man tuned out the maids speech. He was thinking deeply.

“Someone close to them”

‘‘He’s always lingering behind Their Majesty.”

“You have probably already met”

It was obvious who it was. Who else could it be? The clues in her speech pointed to one person. Karim’s mind filled with long, red hair, and those calculative grey eyes.

Caecilius.

[daddyfordaeddy]

Pairing: mafia! Seongjoong x f! yn

Word Count: 3517

Warnings: cursing, mentions of violence, minor injuries, slight possessive/yandere joong (not super noticeable), smut warnings under cut

Genre: Fluff, smut, mafia au, exes to lovers, M for mature audiences

Summary: After leaving the mafia scene for five years, you've had to go back and beg for help from the boss of your former family...and your ex.

Smut Warnings: unprotected sex (DONT DO THIS unless you discuss safely outside of sex!), some praise, degredation, spitroasting, oral (m & f receiving), deepthroating, rough sex, creampie, fingering, felching (again), squirting, one spank, dom/sub (seongjoong dom, yn sub), undernegotiated kinks (its been a while since they fucked so things may have changed but they don't discuss. don't do this)

Written for tipsy drabbles! took me like 3 days to write the smut itself lmao

-

“So. You’ve found your way back to me, begging for me.” You keep your eyes lowered, not afraid but too ashamed to look Hongjoong in the eyes. You haven’t seen the head of the MATZ gang in a long time. Not since the last boss was alive and he was just a capo in his own right. Not since you had left him standing in the hall of his mansion, citing immaturity when it was just your fears of commitment to a mafia member. You know you broke his heart, but he stitched it back up quickly, yelling after you that if you ever came back he wouldn’t help you.

And yet, how the tables have turned.

“I had…I had nowhere else to go. Turn me away if you wish, but hear me out first. Please, Hongjoong.” You keep your gaze focused on your ratty sneakers, a far cry from the Louboutins you used to wear.

“Look at me first.” You freeze. From his tone of voice, you know he knows why you’re here. “I won’t repeat myself, YN.”

Slowly, you bring your head up, wincing at the sharp pain in your throbbing head from the sudden movement. You’re sure you look a mess, with the black eye and split lip. You keep your line of sight trained on the window next to Hongjoong instead of his face, but you can’t miss the way his eyes darken at the sight of you broken in front of him.

“What. Happened.”

His voice is cold and you flinch, hands wringing behind your back as you refuse to break down in front of your first lover (and if you stop lying to yourself, he still is in your heart). “...It was Yang Beomhun. I left you but he tracked me down and thought he could use me as leverage against you. It didn’t work, but at that point, he decided he might as well keep me around for himself and the pretence he had put up dropped. I…don’t know what else to do.”

It was a miracle you were even let back into his mansion. You thought you would have to live a life of suffering with Beomhun as your tormentor, but one of the family had somehow recognised you and let you in, citing it to be some sick joke.

And maybe it was. Who leaves the mafia out of fear for their future, only to end up being run ragged by the justice system? It’s ironic, ending right back up where you left, but once again, you have nothing left to lose.

“Why don’t you just leave him? You clearly are able to.”

You choose to ignore the jibe. “I couldn't. I’ve tried. It was a miracle I made it here, and that was with the help of someone who likely has gotten into deeper trouble.” You can feel your body shaking with the effort to keep your cool. “I don’t know what to tell you. Give me a new life, or just fucking kill me, Hongjoong. I don’t want to be caught in the middle again. I left to avoid the danger but no matter what I do, all I get is the same thing.”

Silence settles over the both of you. It’s only a moment later you realise you finally admitted the real reason you left. Your head shifts lower and you squeeze your eyes shut, both from embarrassment and trying to keep yourself on your feet.

After a long breath, you feel slender fingers on your chin that tip your face up. Blearily, you blink your eyes open to see Hongjoong staring down at you, eyes hiding any emotion. “Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice is soft, softer than you’ve heard in a long time. “I would’ve protected you, given you the safest life I could.”

“I…back then I didn’t want that, Joong. I just wanted a normal life. Not a safe one.” Your eyes are fighting to stay open.

“And now? What do you want?” You open your mouth to speak, but instead, your legs give out and Hongjoong drops to keep you from cracking your head on the wooden floor. “YN, wait–”

-

When you reawaken, you’re in an intricate bedroom you remember as the one you stayed in when you and Hongjoong were still dating. It’s changed quite a bit, his bookshelves cleared and the desk is gone, but otherwise, the drapes remain the same, and the carpet and plants as well. Your body aches but your mind is refreshed, the exhaustion from yesterday gone.

You can feel a heavy weight on the left side of the bed and your heart softens at the sight of Hongjoong sitting beside you, head in his arms as he rests his torso on the bed. As much as you hate to admit it, you missed him every moment you were gone. But you hurt him irrevocably and you know there’s not much you can do to win him back.

Your hand reaches up involuntarily, just about to brush through his platinum blond locks when his head snaps up. Your hand jerks back although his eyes are still closed. “You’re up,” he hums, eyes slowly blinking open. “The medic said you were just exhausted, but I’m glad to see you’re up.”

You stare at him, brows furrowed. “Why are you glad? I hurt you. I don’t deserve your worry.”

Hongjoong’s brow raises. “I don’t think you get to decide who I get to worry about. Yes, you hurt me. But we were young and dumb. We were hardly adults, thrust into a dangerous situation. And I would be lying to say I didn’t miss you, rosebud.”

Your face flushes at the nickname you hadn’t heard in years and Hongjoong smiles at the sight of it. He shifts over, leaning in to brush his nose against yours when the door slams open. “Boss, Seonghwa’s back.”

Your brows furrow. “Seonghwa?” The name escapes your lips before you can catch it and Hongjoong’s eyes narrow to level a sharp gaze at you.

“You met him?” His question is light but there’s danger behind it.

“Yes—He’s the one that helped me escape Beomhun. He was new on the task force, but he saw how Beomhun treated me and was the only one who cared to help me.” You speak quickly, trying to ease the tension lurking in Hongjoong’s eyes. “I swear on my life, Joong. He’s done nothing wrong except help me.”

Hongjoong stares at you for a long moment before he stands quickly, smoothing down his suit. “YN, come. Let’s see this Seonghwa for ourselves.”

Before you can even say anything, he grabs your wrist, pulling you along. You don’t know how to react, much less if you should react, and the entire way down to the basement is silent. You come to a stop behind a glass window, two-way if you remember correctly, and you stare at the slender figure sitting at the table, with sharp eyes and a split lip. “That’s him,” you breathe out.

Hongjoong hums. “Aww, he came all this way to see if you were alive? How sweet. Why don’t you go and show him how much you appreciate him? After all the work I put him to to keep you safe?” His hand pushes at your side a little and you snap your head towards him.

“Joong–” you gasp in shock and confusion.

Hongjoong turned to stare you down. “What? You think I would actually just let you go like that, five years ago? You’re mine, and you’d do well to remember that.” He chuckles low in his throat, his lips pulling into a shark’s smile. “Seonghwa here is my underboss. I trust him the most when it comes to my personal affairs, and I think he deserves a reward for the work he’s done. Come on, baby, why don’t you show him how good you can be?”

Before you can say anything else, he swings the door open and pulls you through. “Hwa, say ‘hi’ to my little rosebud. She’s here to give you a little treat for protecting her.”

He pushes you forward again and you stumble on your feet until large, warm hands land on your waist as you stop between Seonghwa’s open thighs. “Aren’t you just precious, huh,” he groans, pressing his thumbs into your hip bones. “Little missy is just too worried about me, is that right, baby?”

You cast a glance back at Hongjoong, where he’s taken a seat from across the room and is palming at the growing bulge in his pants. Without even thinking about it, your thighs squeeze together and you flush. “Joong–” Back when you were still with him, the two of you would find newcomers to fuck, some kind of sick power play Joong got off on. It’s somewhat comforting to see not much has changed in that regard…and it makes heat bloom in your core.

Seonghwa’s hand gripping your chin directs your gaze to his dark eyes. “Come on, miss, I went to all that work keeping you safe, don’t you want to show your appreciation?” He arches a perfect brow and you swear the expression on his face only serves to make your face even hotter.

“Show him how good you can be, YN,” Hongjoong commands from behind you, his voice heavy. And, well, who are you to disobey him? Immediately, you drop to your knees, your habits from years back still ingrained into your brain.

Seonghwa chuckles, his fingers combing through your hair slowly as he palms his cock straining against his leather pants. “Come on, princess. Show me how good those pretty lips are.”

You don’t need much more prompting than that, quickly reaching forward to undo his belt and slide his zipper down. With a groan, Seonghwa lifts his hips enough for you to shove his boxers down, revealing his hard cock. The tip of it is an angry red, dripping pre-come and your eyes zero in on it.

Seonghwa places his hand on the top of your head, and you don’t need much more prompting before dipping down and pressing a kiss to the tip. You can hear him sigh and it's enough to make you sink down to envelop the head of it in your mouth, letting spit pool around it. Any other day you’d be in the mood to tease, but with Hongjoong watching all you want is to be good.

“Shit, her mouth is so good,” Seonghwa groans, his thighs straining as his hands tighten in your hair. “So perfectly willing to be used.”

You feel another spike of heat in your core as you clench around nothing at his words. The way he doesn’t even direct it at you, only at Hongjoong turns you on more than you’d like to admit it would. “You can be rougher with her, she likes it,” Hongjoong’s voice cuts through the fog slowly encapsulating your mind.

Without hesitation, Seonghwa pushes your head down even further and you gag, eyes rolling back at the rough treatment. “Holy shit, she’s into it.” There’s absolute glee in Seonghwa’s voice, and his hips give an experimental thrust. You moan around his thick length, eyes squeezing shut as your spit dribbles down his length. Any shame you feel dissolves into arousal and you can’t help but wriggle your hips, trying to get any sort of friction.

“Look at you, so needy for anything.” Hongjoong’s voice is closer than you remember, and you flinch when you feel his cool hands on your shoulders. They trail down, patting your ass before reaching to cup you through your pants. “Come on, hands and knees for me, okay?”

It takes you a moment to respond, but when Hongjoong paps you on your cunt again, you scramble to present your ass to him while still keeping Seonghwa in your mouth. You can hear both of them chuckle at your eagerness. “She’s such a perfect slut, Joong,” the bite in Seonghwa’s voice makes you whine low in your throat. “So happy to just take cock and sit still, all pretty for us.”

Hongjoong hums as he pulls down your pants and underwear in one swift moment, pressing his fingers against your sopping pussy. “She’s so wet, truly the perfect whore for us,” he sighs, scissoring his fingers to stretch you out. His movements are fast, precise, and more slick gushes out of you as you keep moaning around Seonghwa’s cock.

Before you can grind against his hand, his fingers disappear just as fast as they entered you and you whine, feeling much too empty. “Eager or not, bitches should learn patience,” Hongjoong sneers and a smack resounds in the room. You register the stinging pain on your ass a second later and you moan, the sound of it muffled.

Your eyes tear up from the pain and Seonghwa coos, his long fingers brushing away the tears. You lean into the comfort subconsciously but as you do so, you can feel the blunt head of Hongjoong’s cock rubbing against your folds and the slick sounds make your brain fuzzy. The tip of it repeatedly catches on your clit and each time it sends a shock to your core.

Before you can whine any more, Hongjoong lines his cock up to your cole and pushes in without any warning. Your eyes snap open as your body is pushed forward and Seonghwa’s cock is driven deeper into your mouth. “Shit–” Seonghwa groans, his other hand coming down to grip your hair and keep your head in place.

Hongjoong giggles from behind you before drawing back and slamming back in again. The force of his thrust spears him so perfectly inside you, the girth of his cock stretching you open so well. He didn’t prep you well enough, but the sting makes you even wetter. It’s been years, and he still knows exactly what you like and it makes both your heart and your cunt throb. Seonghwa’s cock is longer, but the stretch of Hongjoong is just what you like and you clench around him.

“God, after all this time, you still are so fucking tight. Maybe I didn’t fuck you well enough before,” Hongjoong leans down to whisper in your ear, his weight pushing you impossibly further onto Seonghwa’s dick. “Maybe I’ll let Seonghwa fuck you too until your pussy is nice and sloppy for me to take any time I want. You may be mine, but Seonghwa is too and it would be cruel of me to not let my two playthings have their own fun.”

You’re a little ashamed to admit the idea of that makes you moan, and Hongjoong presses a kiss to your shoulder before biting the flesh, his hips starting to jackhammer into you, setting an unforgiving pace.

Your body goes lip, Hongjoong’s arms around your waist and Seonghwa’s hands in your hair the only thing keeping you up. You really do feel like a doll used only for their enjoyment but something about it is perfect and you keep your mouth slack as your eyes roll back in your head. Your cunt is throbbing, pulsing around Hongjoong as he hits the spongy spot inside of you with surprising accuracy. Seonghwa’s started thrusting into your mouth as well, your jaw aching but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

You can hear them speaking to each other above you but you’re too far gone to make sense of anything they’re saying, letting your eyes flutter shut as the two men on either side pound into you. But before you can say or do anything, Seonghwa comes, ropes of his come shooting down your throat without you needing to swallow. As his orgasm washes over him, he pulls his cock out, moving one of his hands to your jaw and squeezing, keeping your mouth open and pliant. The tip of his dick rests against your lower lip as drops of come land in your mouth and dribble down your lips. When his cock softens, he tucks himself back in and leans down to spit in your mouth.

“Swallow.” His voice is rough and heavy, and you follow his command immediately. You don’t even notice Hongjoong stilled his hips until a moment later and you whine.

“So greedy,” Hongjoong scoffs, his hands gripping your waist and his nails digging into the skin. Without warning, he pulls you back down on his cock and you moan so loudly it’s bordering on a scream. “Your cunt is swallowing me so well, baby. I could do this for hours and I bet you’d just let it happen. God, I can’t believe I let you go last time, no one else could be such a perfect little cumdump for me.”

He punctuates each other with another thrust until he’s groaning as he reaches the edge of his pleasure, his come shooting deep into you and coating your walls. “God, she’s taking you so well,” Seonghwa hums, brushing your hair out of your eyes, the gentleness of his actions the complete opposite of how he was treating your mouth not a minute earlier.

Hongjoong laughs, pulling out his cock to see his come dripping out of you and making a little pool on the floor. His arms release you and you collapse onto the cool tile, your body shuddering. “She’s good, isn’t she,” he says fondly, his hands coming to pull apart your cheeks, admiring the sight of your hole fluttering around nothing. “She hadn’t even come after that. Would you like to reward this good behaviour, Hwa?” 

A chuckle leaves Seonghwa as he moves around to settle in between your legs. You’re too tired to shift to see what they’re doing and you gasp as a flat tongue presses against your dripping hole. Your back arches and Hongjoong chuckles, pressing down on your shoulders to shove you further onto the tile.

Your thighs are shaking from the effort of keeping your hips up, but Seonghwa’s grip doesn’t relent as he licks into you like a starved man, tasting both your slick and Hongjoong’s come. The way it flicks your clit and it doesn’t take long for you to come apart on the title, moans spilling out of your mouth easily as you feel a great pressure on your core and your body shakes from the effort of it. You can hear the sloppy, wet sounds of Seonghwa licking up your release and even when you try to clench around his tongue you just know with how loose you are it doesn’t change much.

“Fuck, I didn’t know she squirts,” you hear the awe in Seonghwa’s voice and Hongjoong hums, please.

“Like I said, she’s really the perfect slut.” Hongjoong pats your head, but the praise doesn’t really register, your mind is all fuzzy from the fucking you just received, and all you do is yawn. You hear soft laughter from the two of them and Hongjoong pulls you into his arms as he kisses the top of your head. “All right, I get it. You can sleep, baby. We’ll clean you up. Just relax.”

At his sweet words, you let your head drop to his shoulder as you let him manoeuvre you so he can pick you up to bring you to a bath. You’re happy to be back.

-

As Hongjoong tucks you into bed, Seonghwa leans against the doorframe, waiting for you to finally drift off. As soon as your breathing levels, Seonghwa moves to stand by Hongjoong sitting on the bed, and he speaks up. “Beomhun asked for his money.”

Hongjoong’s eyes narrowed. “He doesn’t get it. He broke the rules of the deal and laid his hands on my girl. The agreement was for him to scare her, not fucking hurt her.”

Seonghwa nods. “I know. He has been taken care of. Jongho and Yunho are happy to have been promoted, and I’m sure they’ll bring flowers to the funeral.”

Hongjoong chuckles, low in his throat to keep you from waking. “Good, good. It’ll be good to have some of our men higher in the police force too. Beomhun’s death was needed. But make sure she never finds out.” Seonghwa nods. “Can you go get a report from Yunho?”

Another nod. “I’ll see you later,” Seonghwa says, patting Hongjoong on the shoulder. “We’re still on for dinner, right?”

Hongjoong smiles. “Of course. Come here.” Seonghwa moves to stand between Hongjoong’s legs, much like how you did with him down in the basement. Without another word, Hongjoong pulls Seonghwa down to press a sweet kiss to his lips. “I’m happy to have both of you back. I’ll see you later tonight. Maybe YN will be awake for dinner as well.”

Seonghwa flushes red before kissing Hongjoong once more before slipping out the door. Hongjoong turns his attention back to you, brushing your hair out of your face.

“You’re back now, and I intend to keep it this way. No running away from me anymore,” he whispers, his fingers trailing down your face to ghost over your lips. “You’re mine, rosebud.”

[genderqueerdykes]

i love you so much i love the way u talk abt trans men and our struggles i makes me feel so seen especially bc youre older than me, i want to be understood , keep posting please

THANK YOU !!

i appreciate that. i feel like nobody (aside from some very cool bloggers on here) is advocating for trans men anymore. like unless its a trans man talking about these issues, it just doesn't happen. nobody advocates on our behalf for the most part. everyone just leaves us to the weeds. we have to help each other because most people just don't even understand what trans men and mascs want. like it's absolutely positively insanity inducing

when i was in college, at my pride group, there were just. no conversations about trans men. at all. in fact. at the time i was beginning to realize i was a trans man but i couldn't find support or acknowledgement of transmasculinity anywhere. whenever i would participate in the conferences, and large group meetings for LGBTQ communities in our part of the country... I was forced into queer women's groups. i did not identify as a woman or bigender at that time. i asked them where a female-to-male genderqueer person should go, and they put me in every queer women's group. i was not being considered trans. i was being viewed as a cis butch lesbian.

i was fucking pissed.

i learned the word transgender and what it meant and the example that was given was male to female, which was informative. i heard a lot of things about feminine transition, drag queens, cis gay male culture, bisexuality, pansexuality, and even asexuality. i want you to know that my college's pride group in 2011 - 2012 was more accepting of asexual people than trans men, which is insane for that time frame. i was actually allowed to help with a presentation on asexuality

i had to go online and research trans men, though. there were none to be found in the group that were at least out and able to talk to each other. we were all very stealth and nervous. my long term friends there ended up being gay men, lesbians, and a transfem agender person. i never met a single trans man there. it was heartbreaking.

i am tired of participating in transmasculine silence. i will not participate in self-erasure. trans men are trans. we're men. we're mascs. we NEED support, community, and care. we need to learn how to access transition resources, to comfort each other, to laugh with each other, to help each other find what clothes make us feel like ourselves, to say each other's names and pronouns, to see one's self in the other.

we need people who will protect us from misgendering. we need to be able to talk about our unique issues. we need to be able to talk about how yes, we experience misogyny, but also that transandrophobia is literally a thing. we need people who will stand up for femme trans men and gay trans men. we need people who understand that it's not okay to call every single trans man a confused butch lesbian and assume that they're a queer cis woman. trans men can be butch lesbians and that's okay. but you can't rip away a trans man's manhood for the sake of being a catty asshole. it's misgendering. it's transphobia. care about being transphobic. transphobia hurts all trans people no matter where it's directed. we all lose when you opt to deny trans men and mascs the right to community.

i am transmasculine. i am a trans man. i love being a trans man. i'm not ashamed. i'm not going back in the closet. i love my transmasculine brothers and siblings. i will not silence them. silencing them is a disservice to us all. i refuse to do that to us.

thank you for sending this ask. stay safe, take care of yourself, you're an important part of the LGBTQ community, don't let anyone take that from you.

[elegantgardenrunaway]

Today, we dance

PreCrash! Captain Curly x reader

A/N: Sorry, I couldn't resist. Haha. Anyways, this is not proofread and English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes.

(Image found in Pinterest)

Just think about finding captain Curly after the whole birthday ordeal. The room is still decorated while he's just sitting there, with his head down with an unreadable expression on his face.

You don't say anything as you sit next to him, not really knowing what to do, this was beyond your paycheck. Well, your last paycheck, the idea is still making you nauseous. You don't know what you are going to do after this, if you are going to be able to get another job or if this will be it for you. The weight of the news is crushing both of you, suffocating you in its silence.

You glance at him, then look around the room, the room which you hoped to celebrate your captain and decide here and there that this was too somber. This was supposed to be his celebration, his day and you'll be damned if you let it end like this.

Besides, you needed some distraction, maybe he did too.

You are a little ashamed to admit that it took you some time to get the courage to put your idea into motion, worried you may be stepping a boundary or just doing something in a time that wasn't right. Sure, the captain and you were getting close as of late, but you wouldn't say you have that kind of trust, not to mention it wasn't really professional.

But it's not like you have anything to lose now, right?

You turn on the radio, put some music, take his hands, invite him to dance "just one piece", you say, anything to lift his mood. It takes some convincing, a lot of convincing.

"We still have work to do" he says.

"To hell with work" you respond, taking his hands to guide him "Forget the work, the company, everything. Tomorrow we'll drown, today? Today, we dance. If you want to, of course."

He observed you, with those blue eyes with something you had never seen before, something you can't describe.

To be completely honest, you were expecting a refusal.

You were pleasantly surprised when he didn't.

His callused, warm hands awkwardly held you, not exactly knowing what to do.

"... I have to tell you..." He whispered slowly, sounding as if he was confessing a crime "... I'm not a good dancer..."

You blinked. You didn't expect him to say that. Captain Curly? A bad dancer? The idea made you snort.

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing, sorry... " you shook your head, giving him an apologetic smile, hoping that you were not being rude. That's the last thing you want to do to him. You guided one of his hands to your waist, the other holding yours "... It's just that... That's very hard to believe coming from you, captain."

He just shrugged. For some reason, the easy smile he usually gives seemed different. You can't help but wish you could see it more often.

"What can I say? Being a captain is not exactly a job where I can really do these kinds of things..."

You chuckled "Don't worry, we are not doing anything complicated of sorts" you reassured "Just follow my lead..."

You started to guide the captain through the music. Nothing difficult, just simple, easy to remember movements. As you progressed with your impromptu dancing clases, you didn't notice when your bodies got so close to each other, to the point he had his chin resting on your head while you were resting on his chest.

The mellow melody taking you to another world, another earth. There were no screens, no pixels, no pony express, no worries about the future. Just the two of you, swaying with the music. This was all you could offer to him.

And you hoped that was a good enough birthday gift.

"You know, you are not as bad a dancer as you said you were"

"Hmm? You think so?"

"Mhm, but if you really feel like it... I can give you some classes..."

"... That..."

"Ah...Sorry-"

"No! Don't be!"

"..."

"... It actually sounds wonderful"

"Really?"

"...Really"

"... Well, we have some time before we arrive at the destination... We can see each other during our breaks..."

"I'm looking forward to it then"

[girlactionfigure]

URGENT: Yesterday Iranian volleyball player Mobina Rostami, bravely spoke out against the regime's attack on Israel.

"As an Iranian, I am truly ashamed of the regime's attack on Israel, but you need to know that the people in Iran love Israel and hate the Islamic Republic."

Not long after her home was raided, she was arrested and taken away to an undisclosed location, her social media accounts were shut down, and she has not been heard from since. 

The silence surrounding her whereabouts is concerning, and we can only imagine the horrors she may be enduring for standing up against a brutal regime. 

It's crucial to SHARE Mobina's story and refuse to let Iran silence voices advocating for tolerance and peace.

[rememberwren]

A Dichotomy of Thought || 7

Previous parts may be found here.

Johnny finds a new purpose. CW: domestic violence.

-

((A video begins, shaky. It focuses on you, sitting at the dining table in your old apartment, your head in your hands. Tears have dripped onto the wood in front of you. As the camera approaches, you give a great sniff and lean back in your seat, tearful eyes meeting the lens. 

“What are you doing?” you ask, voice warbling. 

“Filming in case you get violent,” your boyfriend says. He turns the camera around to front facing, showing where he sports a swollen lower lip, tugging it outward to show where his teeth had cut into soft flesh. “See what you did to me? Now can we talk like two civil adults or are you going to hit me again?” 

“Get the camera out of my face,” you grit out through your teeth.

The camera comes closer. “You’re getting worked up. I can tell. Try taking some deep breaths.” 

“I said get it out of my face!” you shout. 

“There’s no talking to you when you’re like this. Why don’t you just hit me again? I know you want to,” he says. 

The camera comes closer, closer, close enough to tap teasingly against your temple. The video goes chaotic as the phone is knocked from his hands to the floor, clattering loudly against the tile. Socked feet come into the frame and the phone is picked up, turned back on you. Your head is in your hands again, but no more tears are falling on the table. 

He gives a quiet laugh—but that can be edited out.

The video ends.))

-

Johnny finds a new pastime: planning murder. 

He paces the walkable space in the apartment. The sound must drive the people below them crazy: tha-thump, tha-thump, tha-thump, but there are never any complaints. If there were, Simon would handle them with all the grace he had left (which is to say none). When Johnny refuses to leave the apartment, he dresses warm because Simon keeps the AC up: long pants he can pull up himself (buttoning jeans is on his List of things to relearn), soft long-sleeved shirts. They put a safety pin through the sleeve without any arm to fill it because Johnny hates for it to be flapping in the breeze when he really gets walking. Like he is now. 

“The camera’s a problem,” he says, accent rough. It’s the first time he’s spoken to Simon all morning. The two are still on the outs with each other—that is to say that Johnny is giving him the coldest shoulder, refusing his help for as many tasks as possible, and scowling darkly whenever he can’t. 

Johnny points to the corner of the room at Simon’s blank expression. “One camera, northeastern end of the hallway. There’s another in the elevator, but it only faces inward. I’m no’ worried about it.” 

Simon realizes belatedly what Johnny is getting at. 

“Drop it, Johnny.” 

“I’m just saying.” 

“Say less. Or nothing.” 

Johnny mutters something foul under his breath that Simon pretends not to have heard. He pretends that he is an empty vessel, no heart left to hurt. Before Johnny, he’d nearly believed that to be true. Now he just wishes it were. 

After a lengthy silence that Johnny spends staring at the wall which separates his apartment from yours, he asks: “Do yeh think the cameras work or they’re only there fer show?” 

Simon lets out all his breath through his nose and refuses to dignify that with a response. He wants to leave. He wants to disappear downstairs for a cigarette, for something to do with his hands and something to calm his jittering nerves. While he used to fear that Johnny would kill himself if left alone, Simon has a new fear: that Johnny will kill someone else if he is left alone. How fucking fucked up can things get before Simon’s vessel breaks? 

He opens a text to you, debates with himself and loses. Thirty minutes? he asks.

To Johnny, he’s ashamed to say that he says: “You’re due for your pills.” 

“Aye. Then give them to me.” 

He dishes out two of the little green ovals, the one that usually knock Johnny flat on his arse for three or four hours at a time. Simon isn’t sure if you’ll answer his text, but he plans to try to rest either way, even if he has to pin Johnny’s body to the bed with his own to do it with any sort of peace. 

To Simon’s relief, you message back just as Johnny’s eyes are drooping. His gait becomes affected by the drugs in his system, ataxic and stumbling, and when Simon goes and takes the crutch from him, tucks Johnny’s arm over his shoulder, the smaller man lets him. 

“Still angry at you,” mutters Johnny as Simon lays him down in bed and covers him with a blanket. He looks relaxed the way only Oxy can make him, limbs heavy with cotton. His eyes close almost right away, soft snores filling the air, but Simon sits on the side of the bed for several more minutes just watching him. Missing him—missing the old him. The one with two arms. Hating himself for feeling that way. 

“I’m begging you Johnny,” he whispers to the quiet snoring man, his mouth barely moving. “I’m begging you to leave this idea alone. Because if you’re committed to it, then I’m going to have to help you. Because I can’t let them take you somewhere ever again where I can’t follow you. Don’t make me a killer again. Please.”

There’s a quiet knock at the door. Simon thumbs at his eyes just to be safe and lets you in. 

You’re dressed from the diner, sweat on your forehead from your walk to the apartment. It’s the first time you two have seen each other since that terrible day that Johnny chose to sit next to your piece of shit boyfriend at the bar. Without the other man there, there is more life in your cautious eyes as you glance toward the bedroom in silent question. 

“Asleep,” Simon affirms. 

“You should go join him,” you whisper. “You look tired.” 

“I just might. If that’s alright.” 

You nod your head. Simon’s heart clenches with the strangest sensation for you, one he hasn’t felt for anyone save Johnny: fondness. If he thinks too long about why you’re here—just repaying a debt that doesn’t truly exist—he’ll talk himself out of the rest he needs. Let him talk himself out of it another day, after a little sleep. 

“Thank you,” he says, voice rougher than he would like it to be. 

He goes and curls up on the bed beside Johnny, quietly closing the bedroom door behind him, and falls asleep before his head hits the pillow. 

And when he wakes, nearly two hours have passed. You’re standing at the foot of their bed like a child coming to wake their parents in the night, and it nearly startles a sound out of him. Heart pounding, he sits up, sleep vanishing from his system. Your hands are anxious, wringing together in front of you as you rush out of the bedroom once you know he’s awake. He gives Johnny a cursory glance—still snoring—and follows you. 

“I let you sleep as long as I could, but I really need to leave now,” you whisper. 

“You should have woken me,” Simon says. “I don’t want you to get in trouble.” 

“I won’t,” you answer mindlessly, already working your apartment key from your pocket.

“Don’t lie to me,” says Simon, stern but soft. 

The two of you stare at each other. 

“Okay,” you say at length. “I won’t.” 

A lie if Simon’s ever heard one. 

-

That night when your boyfriend is asleep,  you go back to your drawer. For a moment, you can’t find the lighter. A part of you is convinced that it will be gone, that he will have found it and moved it and be biding his time to bring it up to you, and just when you are nearly convinced to give up, your hand encloses around the hard piece of metal and plastic and you pull it free. You carry it into the bathroom just to flick the pinwheel once, watching the fire burst into life. In the little orange flame, you’re convinced that you see Johnny and Simon, their figures curled around each other on their bed in the darkness where you had stood like an intruder waiting to make yourself known. Your heart aches with a throbbing you can’t understand. You let the flame die and smuggle the lighter back into the drawer. 

-

Johnny thinks about everything. 

The cameras: who he plans to talk to to find out if they’re real and if so where the footage is being held. The entry points: the front door which you rarely leave unlocked, and the balcony doors which he is already considering how to get to. The method: simplicity is best, something which looks like a terrible, untimely accident. A slip and a fall, a head injury beyond repair, a broken neck. Nothing traceable, no weapons. The alibi: Simon. 

Simon would vouch for him, Johnny knows. Even if they aren’t on good terms (and just thinking of the other man makes Johnny’s blood boil), Johnny still loves him, and Johnny knows that Simon loves him back. Simon would die for him. Nearly has, many times. Time doesn’t change something like that, except to make it stronger. 

Johnny barely notices it, but as the days pass, he grows stronger too. The walking comes a little easier. Sometimes he manages inside the apartment without the crutch, his knee a dormant throb as he grips onto the nearest surface when his balance goes wonky. 

With the good comes the bad. There’s a little less pain, yes, but also less pain pills in the bottle and even fewer doctors willing to prescribe them to him. They want to know what else Johnny is trying to lessen his pain; how’s therapy going, has he tried icing and elevating his knee, does he use Tylenol? None of them understand what it’s like to function at his level of pain every day. He counts the pills left in the bottle and dreads the day they run out. 

The nightmares get worse, too. He starts digging through the snow every night looking for his arm and uncovering bodies instead: the men who had died on the helicopter, sometimes Simon, sometimes you. He takes his Keppra every day and has no more seizures, but the medicine makes him feel restless in his own skin, like he’s in a cocoon, like he’s transforming into something. Something else. 

Maybe it’s just in his head. Maybe there’s just something in the air. 

Saturday is coming, after all. 

-

Thursday, Johnny’s anger wavers. He moves quieter now without the crutch, and it gives him the stealth to sneak up on Simon for the first time since his accident. He catches his lover with his head in his hands at the kitchen table, fingers buried in his short blond hair, the picture of exhausted defeat. Johnny must make some sound, his socks brushing against the linoleum, because then Simon’s head snaps up, face morphing into a neutral expression. But there’s no hiding the shadows beneath his eyes. There’s no hiding the way the frown lines on either side of his mouth look more at home than ever. 

The craving for him rises up in Johnny so keenly that it’s almost a pain. He doesn’t fight it, just hobbles quietly across the kitchen to stand at Simon’s side and let Simon lean his head against Johnny’s belly. Johnny runs his fingers through his hair, nails scratching lightly at his scalp, thinking about how foreign it feels to be doing this with the wrong hand. With the Weak Hand. 

“Yer a stubborn bastard,” Johnny whispers. 

“Talking to yourself in the mirror again, Johnny?” 

Before Johnny can answer, there comes the sound of rising voices from the hallway. Your voice is easily recognizable—and angry. The two meet eyes briefly and then both are dashing (as well as Johnny can dash) to the front door, holding their breath to better hear the argument taking place just beyond their door. 

“—don’t like it, then you can go back to the shelter.” 

A door slams shut. Johnny flinches at the sound. 

Your hand pounds against the wood. “Let me in you fucking cunt!” you shout. “I pay for this shithole, you let me in or I swear to God—”

It’s rare for them to be so in sync these days, but as Johnny reaches for the latch lock, Simon reaches for the deadbolt. Their fingers brush against the knob as they twist the door open in perfect harmony, Ghost and Soap, both on your six. 

You freeze, fist raised to beat savagely against the door again. Your face is swollen from tears, cheeks wet, hair disheveled. Your knuckles are peeling. Wiping your face dry of tears, you can say nothing—no excuse, no explanation for your actions. You lamely point at the door. 

“He…he’s locked me out.” 

Simon silently nudges their door open wider just a hair, a silent offer. 

You take it. 

-

It’s the first time you’ve ever been inside their apartment when Johnny is awake. Johnny doesn’t have his arm crutch as he guides you to the kitchen table and pulls out a chair for you, and it’s strange to see him without it. 

“Would yeh make tea?” Johnny asks Simon. 

Simon gets to work without comment, filling the kettle and pulling cups from the cabinet. You remember the taste of tea from the last time Simon offered you some: bitter without any sugar, but so warm in your belly. Soothing. Your stomach growls. You press your fist against it and hope to silence any further noises. 

“Does that happen often?” Johnny asks, exuding an eerie calmness as he takes the seat across from you. “Him locking yeh out, I mean.”

You shrug a shoulder miserably. It happens more often than you’d admit even under duress. He knows you have limited options when you’re locked out of the apartment, with no friends to go to and no family nearby. There are shelters, but they are terrible places where terrible things happen to needful people. You won’t go there anymore. Not ever again. 

You know what he really wants: for you to beg to be allowed back in. And eventually you will. You always do. Just…not yet. 

“You can stay here for as long as you need to,” says Simon, setting a teacup in front of you. You had disappeared into your own head for a moment—for a handful of minutes—and you could feel their eyes on you. Judging you. 

Except when you meet the clear blue gaze of Johnny, there’s no hint of judgement in them. He looks like he’s trying to see through you to the chair at your back. When he catches you looking, he forces a smile, something soft and kind and maybe not truthful. 

Were you an idiot to be alone in this apartment with two strange men? You felt that they were good people, but your instincts were broken. They had misled you before.

“He makes me out to look like I’m crazy,” you whisper, speech pressured, hands wringing in your lap. “But I’m not crazy. I swear. I’m not—“

“We believe you,” Simon says simply. 

And you believe him. The relief is almost enough to make you cry fresh tears, but you blink them away, on the verge of a splitting headache already from all the tears you had cried. 

“How’s giving up smoking going?” you ask to change the subject. You burn your tongue on your tea again, but it feels good to fill up your belly like this, so you drain the cup. 

“Fantastically,” says Johnny with a grin. “Lost my lighter.” 

Your face burns with warmth. 

“Bad luck,” you offer. 

Johnny’s grin widens. He hums. 

Simon stays silent, one hand coming to rest against Johnny’s knee beneath the table, if the slope of his arm tells you anything. It makes you want to dash your mug to the floor, it hurts so much. You want something like it so bad. 

“I’m going to take a walk around the block I think,” you say, standing. A piece of you feels left behind in the chair, broken into bits. “Cool off a bit. Thank you for the tea.” 

“It’s just tea,” Simon reminds you, also standing. He goes to the table by the door and you hear the rustling of keys. When he returns, he has a silver one in the palm of his hand. “Take this. If you ever get locked out again—come over here. We’re probably home, but if we aren’t, just let yourself in.”

“I couldn’t,” you say, eyes wide. 

“You can.” He puts the key in your hand firmly. “You will. Understand?” 

You swallow the knot in your throat and nod your head, reluctant but grateful. 

You slip out the front door, the key burning a hole in your pocket. 

Once the door has shut behind you, Johnny stands from the table, chair legs screeching against the linoleum. He goes to Simon and wraps his arms around him. The two embrace for the first time in days. 

“Yer a good man, Simon Riley.” 

Simon sighs softly and lets his head rest against the crown of Johnny’s own. First a coward, then a bastard, now a good man. What a metamorphosis. 

He’s afraid of who he might turn out to be next. 

[arkieve]

Burnt | @jegulus-microfic | word count: 716

James bites into a particularly persistent lump with the texture of onion and suppresses a shudder. 

“Did you put onions in this?” he asks, still chewing. Never stopping his chewing. The persistent chewing saves him from having to swallow.

Regulus frowns from his seat at the table. “Why would I put onions in pancakes?”

James wants to gag but opts for a deep breath, disguising it as a hum of contentment. “No reason.” More chewing. Oh god, it’s all mushy in his mouth, like the pancakes have reverted back to batter. “This is nice.”

Regulus squints. “Then swallow.” There’s a pause. “Swallow, James.”

James grabs the pitcher of water and fills his glass, ashamed that he has to resort to a technique he hasn’t used since middle school. He takes a deep breath, brings the glass to his lips, and washes the pancakes down. It takes the entire contents of the glass to ensure the food stays down, but he does it and he breathes out like he’s faced death and survived. His triumph is quickly trampled by Regulus’ puzzled stare.

“I love it. So much,” James says finally, blinking away tears. “In fact, I love it so much I’m gonna take it with me to the bathroom while I go about my business. If we end up with a clogging problem, it is one hundred percent me and not this…” James can’t call it pancakes; it’s not fair. It's an abuse of the name and legacy of pancakes.

“You hate it.” Regulus states simply, refusing to entertain James’ nonsense.

“No,” James tries to amend. “You took time out of your day to make me breakfast. I’m blessed.”

Regulus crosses his arms and huffs. “You’re fucking ungrateful, is what you are.”

James reels back in his chair, mouth agape in affronted shock. “Ungrateful? For not baring my neck for your ax?”

“Oh, that’s dramatic!”

James makes a motion towards the pile of pancakes plated between them. “Go on then. Have at it.”

Regulus rolls his eyes, and grabs a particularly crispy pancake with burnt edges, and bites into it raw. He chews, keeps chewing, and then chews some more, all the while maintaining determined eye contact with James.

James bites into his lip to stop himself from laughing. “Swallow.” 

Regulus stops chewing, and then comes the most painful swallow James has ever witnessed. Regulus sits unmoving, looking almost frozen aside from the occasional eye twitch.

James grows worried after a few minutes of silence, Regulus refusing to let up. “Reg?”

Regulus gives another dry swallow before opening his mouth, voice hoarse and parched. “Water,” is all he says, before James fills his glass. He downs the whole thing in one go, then hangs his head, refusing to meet James’ gaze. He should, though, because James has nothing but adoration for him despite the pancakes– stockholm syndrome and all that.

“I’m not gonna lie,” he breaks the silence with an affectionate smile branded on his lips. “I thought you were mad at me.”

Regulus finally looks up. “Why would I be mad at you?”

James gestures towards the pancakes, and Regulus gives a heavy sigh. “I made you pancakes because I love you, asshole.” He bites his lips, contemplating. “If anything, I’m happy with you.”

James’ heart soars. This is why he was ready to poison himself and clog their pipes. “If this is what you do when you’re happy with me, then I’m in danger.” He chuckles. When Regulus gets up to move, he throws his head back in laughter.

James grabs onto him, pulling him down onto his lap; Regulus goes with little to no resistance. “I’m joking,” he placates, burying his face in the crook of Regulus’ neck. Regulus squirms before going pliant. “You’re cute.”

“No, I’m not.” Regulus says, cutely. “I’m trying here.”

“I know,” James hums, tightening his hold with the sudden overwhelming love he feels for the man in his lap. “There’s no way but up from here. You’ll be putting all the professional chefs to shame in no time.”

Regulus scoffs. “I know.”

“We’ll start small, though. Let’s start with learning how to boil water first—ow!” Regulus is out of his lap and across the apartment, and James is too busy rubbing his arm and laughing to go after him.

[galebrainrot2024]

GalexYou Pep-Talk

Summary: Pre-relationship yearn alert! This is a BIG yearn. Thank you @orangekittyenergy for the idea! Gale goes to seek you out (gender neutral) after a long day. Mutual pining, angst, fluff. Word Ct. 1.4 k

Master List | Read on Ao3

After the merriment and bustle of the night wore away and gave into the doldrums of sleep, Gale flicked his gaze around camp searching for you. You slipped away and although he expected you to return, the emptiness in your absence haunted him. 

He sat outside of his tent, then stood, pacing with book in hand. He wasn’t worried. Not necessarily. You had been traveling for a few weeks together now and you had a certain levels of tenacity it seemed even gods and devils refused to trifle with. 

It was just that he had grown accustomed to your company post-dinner and campfire camaraderie and felt a pang of remorse in your absence. The night air too quiet without the soft hum of your laughter. Sometimes, he would read aloud to you, other times you would both get lost in conversation, and sometimes would sit in utter silence. It intrigued and terrified him, that you sought out his private company despite the others being starved for your attention. 

It was quite flattering and made him want to rip out the persistent thrum in his heart. He couldn’t indulge in such frivolities and would cause far less suffering to not humor the feelings at all. The orb’s ever looming threat didn’t allow Gale to succumb to whatever emotions festered in his gullet. At least, not consciously. 

His mind began down the treacherous path of ‘what ifs.’ It was a game, like lance board, Gale was excellent at. As the moon greeted the stars, Gale’s anxiety intensified, his mind whirling with options. It had to have been a least an hour you’d been gone, longer than you’d take for bathing - not that he knew exactly how long that was! It was just something he happened to notice. Coincidentally. 

The foreign thrum of desire stirred and the thick hair on his arms stood straight up as he wondered if you were bathing. If you allowed the water to kiss your supple skin, to know your secrets. Gale shook his head, embarrassed and felt his face redden. Keep it together. They could be dead and you’re fantasizing over their wet body? You should be ashamed of yourself. 

Gale expected you to traverse through the trees any moment, prepared to feel ridiculous at his worrying. Why did he care? It’s not as if there was anything more than friendship between you two, at least from your end. He had to repeat this to himself to be convinced. 

When he overheard Astarion ask Shadowheart if she’d seen you, Gale felt the whispers of envy touch his heart and decided he spent enough time wasted, musing over your whereabouts when you could be lost, or worse besides. 

He couldn’t tolerate the sudden pain that gripped him with that ‘what if,’ and he walked into the brushes to find you. 

*** 

Relief roiled through him at the sight of you, despite your disheveled appearance. Gale’s breath caught in his throat and he stopped, gripped when he looked upon you in the pale moonlight. Your eyes were red and swollen, it seemed like you’d been crying. He felt his knees buckle and he cleared his throat, so not to startle you. 

You whipped your head around and Gale’s lips parted when he saw crimson blossom across your cheeks as you wiped away the streaks with the back of your hand. “Oh, I um.. how long have you been standing there?” 

“Not long, I assure you,” Gale’s voice was tender, quiet. He held up both of his hands at waist level, palms facing up and smiled at you. “May I join you?” 

You hesitated for a moment and Gale panicked that he’d made the wrong move, said the wrong thing and of course he had already messed up any chance he might have because he was so pathetically out of practice. You’d think a man who bedded a goddess would have a bit more self confidence in his seductive prowess, but being shunned and cast out by your former omnipotent lover does a number on one’s self esteem. 

When you nodded, he tumbled off the cliff and the orb revolted as it mingled with the rush of adrenaline and rapture he felt from the simple gesture. One nod. To Gale, it was everything. He felt welcomed into your world, elated you’d allow him to offer support. You didn’t have to, and yet you did. 

Gale joined you on the boulder that was nestled in the thicket, the soft buzz of nighttime harmonizing with his unsteady breath. “Hm… I know that look,” Gale said, gazing at how your lips curved. “And a clear mind does not eviscerate flowers quite like this.” He fingered a petal and gestured at the flowers and stems, all petals plucked intentionally from their root. “A nervous habit, no doubt.” 

You sighed and his heart swelled, “I just don’t know what I’m doing. Every lead ends up in either more unanswered questions or unhelpful ends.” You groan and grip your chest, your breath coming in unevenly. “I’m exhausted,” as your head fell into your hands Gale, without thinking, rested a hand on your upper back and stroked your hair behind your shoulder.  

“Ah, heavy is the head that wears the crown.” Gale felt warmth pulse through him as you laughed, whether genuinely or out of pity he wasn’t to know. He wasn’t sure he cared. “For the record, you have pulled the wool over everyone’s eyes most skillfully. You’ve shown remarkable courage and determination and, I’m confident the others would agree, many of us would not be so fortunate to still be alive if not for you. You must know that.” He rubbed his fingers in small circles along your upper back. When he became conscious of what he was doing he pulled back, ashamed and nervous by the electricity that seemed to flow between his skin and yours although barred by cloth. You whined a little and Gale cocked his brows, “What?” 

You turned and as your gaze locked with Gale he drowned. Oh. He was jolted by the flash of profound need and emotion that coiled through him. Every part of him felt aflame and he worried that it was his end, that the orb was at last collapsing in on itself. Yet, as he remained next to you in the thickening silence, he realized it wasn’t the orb at all. When you spoke, Gale thought surely this was the moment he was becoming a mindflayer, a wicked dream to lull one as they succumbed to the parasite. “I.. .can you do that again?” 

“Gladly.” Gale shyly returned his fingers to your back and as you leaned into his touch, Gale knew it was not longer a matter of if, but when. As you leaned farther, you almost rested in his shoulder and his throat closed. He swallowed hard and tried to steady his body and mind, every cell quaking with anticipation and overstimulation. 

He inhaled. Temptation. You smelled like rain or fresh cut grass. You smelled like home. It was when you leaned into him, he was certain he forgot how to formulate a thought. Your head nestled against his neck and your side pressed into his. He wondered if the quaking was from your body or his. He dared not move, frozen as if Tara had fallen asleep on his lap. 

The pain that coursed from Gale’s chest through his veins was almost enough to send Gale back to camp. The undue excitement made the orb restless. Agitated. He was both grateful and nostalgic when you pulled away and sat up. “Thank you, for that. Let’s get back to camp. I don’t want the others to worry.” You smiled at Gale and it seared into the crevices of his mind, a look he would capture a thousand more times and it would never sate him. You gave his hand a squeeze and then stood, offering your hand to Gale’s with a cheeky grin. “Here, I’d hate for you too put too much strain on those creaky knees of yours.” 

Gale’s hearty laugh took him by surprise and he took your hand and stood with a grunt. “A wizard is useless without his knees, shame on you for poking fun at their fragility.” Gale chased the feeling of you, of this closeness and realized that, even before his isolation he had never met a person quite like you. Gale would have stood there in stunned desire forever had you not taken his hand to guide him forward, the movement breaking the trance and he pulled his sweaty palm from yours, embarrassed. He wiped them on his shirt and followed you back, his heart and head swimming with the idea of kissing you.