#it's longer than I would usually do because this felt like the best spot to cut it

[millieisawriter]

Workin' girl

arthur morgan x reader

summary: the one where arthur pulls a john — falling in love with a working girl. it was never supposed to happen, yet it did, and now arthur is left with two choices. either he, again, walks away from a woman that loves him, or tries to fight for her.

wc: 2k

all pics taken from pinterest

♡this wasn't requested, but if you wish to request something you're more than welcome♡

a/n: i see this happening in blackwater in case i decide to write a 2nd part, but when i started writing i imagined saint denis, didn't see any town/city names mentioned as i was proof-reading, lmk if you see something i missed <3

Life has never treated you kindly so eventually, as soon as you could leave your family home, you turned to the oldest profession in the world. Even if that kind of life was better, it still wasn't ideal, but it was the best you could do. Eventually, you started to like it because even with its issues and dark sides it wasn't that terrible. Some would even dare saying it was 'easy money', which you actually knew wasn't true.

Luckily for you, you ended up in one of the more expensive brothels. Maybe it was the 'splendor' of the place, the luxorious interior, that made you feel somewhat safe. Safer than you would feel in some cheap saloon where the patrons consisted of drifters with a questionable past.

You had your regular patrons, ones that you got along with well — one of the reasons why they were your regulars. These were the men that could stay a bit longer after the service itself was done without making it awkward. Ones that you could have a conversation with, ones that saw you as another human being, not just an item to relieve their frustration.

It was a normal evening, the building was neither empty nor full. You didn't have that much on your hands, you and a fellow working girl were entertaining a group of men. They sat by a table, a drink in one hand, a cigar in the other, and two of these men had a companion in their lap — you and your friend. Ending the evening in the bedroom wasn't certain, for now you were just trying to make them spend as much money as possible on the drinks.

Then, Arthur walked in. One of your regulars, one you were particularly fond of. The chemistry between the two of you was so strong sometimes you wanted to tell him he didn't have to pay.

His eyes immediately found you, and he would be lying if he said he didn't feel jealous seeing you in the man's lap. But you, as if on command, turned to look at Arthur and as you noticed your favorite patron, you excused yourself from the table.

"Mister Callahan," you beamed, approaching the man, "so good to see you again."

He tipped his hat to you, his lips curling into a soft smile. "Evenin' darlin', thought I'd stop by again. You been keepin' busy?"

The way he always called you darling, every time, made you feel so warm and bubbly. Of course, he wasn't the first man to do that, but when it came from him, it felt almost sincere.

"Busy enough," you replied, glancing over your shoulder at the table of men you just left, "but I'll always make time for you, mister."

"Well, reckon I'll take you up on that. How bout we find a quiet spot?"

"Your wish is my command." Giggling, you took Arthur by the hand to lead him upstairs where your room was. Even if he already knew the way well enough.

Your room was just like any other room in that brothel — furnished with the most luxorious-looking furniture, tastefully decorated with expensive ornaments, every little detail taken care of.

As the door to your room clicked shut behind you, the world outside seemed to fade miles away. In that moment right there it were just the two of us, bathed in the dim light by the fireplace's glow.

Arthur's hat found its usual place on the small table by the door and he turned to face you, "I can never stay away for too long." Shortly, his hands landed on your waist, resting on the corset of your dress.

"Then maybe you should visit more often..." You suggested, your own hands finding their way to the man's shoulders.

"I'm afraid it ain't a good idea, darlin'. I always look forward to seein' you. But sayin' goodbye..."

"I get what you mean," you chuckled, "so what's it gonna be today? Just the regular service, or you want something extra? It'll be on the house."

Every time Arthur visited you, it was both blissfull and painful for him. You were so good at what you were doing it felt like a religious experience, but the attachment he held for you left a hole in his heart each time he had to say goodbye.

He had always wished he could just ask you to leave this life, and join the gang, but which woman would agree for this? Your current life, your current job, as oppressing as it was, couldn't be worse than living on the run. In Arthur's eyes at least.

In the brothel you had your own room, a wardrobe with many dresses. You had a somehow stable income, it didn't seem as if money were any issue to you. All this, compared to what you could have in the camp, was much worse. And you didn't even know his real last name, there was no reason for you to leave this life you had for a criminal.

Why did Arthur even fall for a working girl? The exact same thing happened to John, which Arthur would often make fun of him for. Maybe life just decided to pull a joke on Arthur now. But he just couldn't control himself, from the first time he saw you, you were different. With other women it didn't take long to notice they're just playing a role, but you... from the first time you even smiled at Arthur, he was drawn to how genuine it looked. And now, you had become not just a pretty face to entertain him, but someone he felt at ease with.

This time, as many times before, Arthur didn't hurry to get dressed and leave the room, return back to camp after getting what he wanted. Instead, he stayed under the covers in your bed, smoking a cigarette as you kept going on about something that happened a few days ago.

He didn't mind, he could let you yap his ears off, your voice was such a calming sound. It was almost hard to believe you weren't just a hallucination he made up. How could such an ethereal being just lay there, next to him, head propped propped on your palm as you lay on your stomach, talking about whatever nonsense? How could this happen to a man like Arthur Morgan?

"...so then," you paused to take the cigarette from Arthur, take one puff and hand it right back, "you'd think a man like him would have some sense, right? Well, no, he was so damn thick in the head, she just told the guard to throw him out!"

Arthur chuckled, exhaling a stream of smoke. "Bet he didn't see that comin'. I'm glad I ain't made it onto your list of thick-headed fools yet."

"Yet!" You playfully reminded him. "You seem to have more sense than others, although I can't say I'm some weak little girl. I don't even need a guard, but the madam insists it's for safety."

A thought lingered in the back of Arthur's mind. It was weird, in a sense, to know there's a guard right outside your door whenever you had a man up there. Even right then.

"I don't doubt you could handle yourself, darlin'," Arthur smirked, taking one last drag from his cigarette, "but it don't hurt havin' someone lookin' out for you."

You rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips. "Guess you're right, mister."

Arthur stubbed out the ciragette into the ashtray that stood on the bedside table, knowing what it meant. His time was up, he extended the time of his visit as long as he could. Now that his usual cigarette was finished, it was the time for him to go.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed to stand up. You watched as he reached for his clothes that had been thrown onto the floor, and for the first time a single tear started to burn the corner of your eye.

With his jeans already on, and his shirt for now unbuttoned, he reached to the pocket, retrieving the usual payment. You wiped the tear away as it escaped your eye. It was always the same routine, but it didn't make it any easier to watch him go.

"Here it is." He said almost robotically, placing the money next to the ashtray, throwing in a little tip.

You looked at the money with sadness in your gaze, then your eyes shifted to look at the man. "You know, you shouldn't have to pay, because you don't make it feel like work."

There they were, the words Arthur was so afraid to hear. Him having a more romantic kind of attachment to you was one thing. However, knowing that you reciprocated the feeling, made it more difficult.

"Good," he nodded, "cause you don't make me feel like the bastard I am," as he buttoned up his shirt.

You sat up on the bed, pulling the sheets harder around you, since you were still naked. "Arthur..." You sighed, the rest of the sentence dying in your throat.

The fact that for the first time you had used his actual name instead of calling him mister as always, made it only more difficult.

"No, darlin', don't."

"You know you don't have to leave, right?"

Oh, he had to leave. If he overstayed his welcome too much, the guard at your door would become highly suspicious. And that would only cause issues for you.

"I have to, don't wanna make it harder." Arthur replied.

"Harder for who? I know a man's nature well enough, and I can tell there's something more in the— the way you fuck me, Arthur."

He thought maybe playing dumb would help him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that if you were to ask me to... to abandon this life for you... I would."

Arthur gulped. It was just what he wished for, but what he couldn't allow to happen. "I've got nothin' to give you. I live on the run, it ain't somethin' you wanna be a part of, trust me."

"You think I'd rather keep fucking strangers to survive, than travel the world with a man I lo—"

"You don't." Arthur interrupted you. "You don't know what you're talkin' bout." Love was a word of huge weight, there was no way it was what you felt for him.

You insisted. "I know what I feel, and I know what you feel, I see it in your eyes, I feel it when you're in my bed, Arthur. I wanna leave this life for you."

"It ain't gonna be no escape, though, just another kind of trap. You deserve better than fuckin' strangers to get by, but you also deserve better than runnin' and not knowin' which day will be your last."

"I don't want better!" At that point you didn't care if the guard outside will hear. "I want you, Arthur!"

"I want you too, darlin'," he admitted, his voice breaking slightly, "but... you're safer here. I can't sentence you to a life of an eternal wanderin'."

His words had a final tone, but as well as you could read his eyes, you could tell he regrets saying what he had just said. You could have had a roof over your head, and locks in your door, but it wasn't safety. It was survival.

You stepped closer, reaching out to grab Arthur's hand. You knew he didn't want to leave, you were sure he wants you just like you wanted him. "Arthur..."

His heart ached when he saw the way your beautiful eyes looked at him, but still he decided to kiss you. It only made it worse, making another cut in Arthur's already damaged heart.

"I gotta go." He stated, freeing his hand from yours.

"No." You refused as if you had any say in that matter. You could demand he takes you with him now, wherever he's headed, but what would it do?

"I can't make promises," he continued, putting his boots and jacket on, then his hat, "but I'll figure somethin' out."

You stayed silent, watching him leave the room, not knowing if he's going to keep his word. All you had now was the money, that you didn't even want from him, and the promise that could have been empty.

[batshieroglyphics]

FIC: We're Not Gonna Fall ~ Star Wars ~ Your Hands Protect the Flame 'Verse ~ Fox/Obi-Wan ~ Mature

Title: We're Not Gonna Fall Fandom: Star Wars Prequel Era Series: Your Hands Protect the Flame Author: Batsutousai Rating: Mature Pairing: Commander Fox/Obi-Wan Kenobi Warnings: Alternate Universe, Jedi Shadow!Obi-Wan, Jedi culture, non-binary clone troopers, trans clone troopers, clones and Jedi as found family, injury & gore, violence, slavery rings, enslavement, minor character death, torture (emotional, physical, and sexual, mostly off-screen), dead dove: do not eat, switching point of views, happy ending Summary: Ahsoka Tano gets separated from her master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and other senior Jedi during a mission that turned out to be far more dangerous than any of them had expected. Is an unexpected alliance the key to getting them all home safely? Sequel to To Be Free Once More (That's Worth Fighting For).

When throwing up hadn't helped, Hondo found himself some alcohol. And, by 'some', he meant a lot. That said, he didn't even make it through his second glass, before it occurred to him that Ashla hadn't been with Ben. Neither had the oversized, medically-inclined clone, Baar. There was a widely-known caution, in the criminal world, that, if you want to take off with a young Jedi, you had best make very kriffing certain that any adult Jedi who might come looking for them were very dead, or you were going to be the one very dead. Hondo wasn't about to contest that warning. However, he'd started noticing—since he'd begun paying a bit more attention to the stories of Jedi that reached his corner of the galaxy—that the reverse also seemed to be true, especially since the war's end, and the wide-spread rumours that Jedi no longer left Coruscant without at least one clone at their back. The only Jedi contact that Hondo had—to his knowledge; he honestly wouldn't put it past the sneaky bastards to find another couple on the list of smugglers, pirates, and bounty hunters he was on something approaching friendly terms with—was Ben. He didn't have any way to call for help, when Ben was the one in deep shit, and the Ohnaka Gang were pirates, not fighters; they couldn't stand against the creepy umbaran and her lightning fingers, not with the number of beings who answered to her. But. Hondo did have the frequency for Ben's ship. If Ashla and Baar were aboard it, he could get them word, and they could handle calling down a Jedi or clone strike force. If they weren't on that ship... Hondo would betray a lot of his very flexible morals for the right price, but leaving someone he honestly liked and considered a friend to be tortured and enslaved was not something he could stomach. Even if staying would mean he would end up tortured or killed himself. Well, if he was lucky, Barb wouldn't decide that he much preferred holding on to his new position as leader of the Ohnaka Gang, over endangering all of them in some suicide run to rescue Hondo and Ben. Or, if he did decide to betray Hondo, he would at least do the bare minimum of getting the word out that there were Jedi captured and being held to torture on the planet Korriban. He sighed and knocked back the last of his second glass, then got up to find a comm or three to steal.

You can read it here, on Archive of Our Own!

Please have kindness for your writer on this lovely Star Wars Day and reblog this post to share this shitshow fic with others!

[gisellecnz]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

💌 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Teen!Gojo Satoru x Teen!fem!reader

💌 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: The most worst thing Gojo never wanted to happen became true. But after meeting the new transferee, all his problems went away.

💌 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: Highschool 2009 jjk, Gojo being sad after the Geto incident, Reader is a transferee from Kyoto Jujutsu high, Reader is a 2nd year and Gojo is a 3rd year, fluff, slight angst

💌 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: Might actually consider making this into a series... From Gojo meeting you for the first till you both are married and have children AACKKKK. Also, if you're wondering why it's not 2006, the year where gojo and Geto separated happened during 2009 and they were 3rd years

💌 𝐖𝐂: 1.4k

2009 — 2 days after Gojo and Geto separated.

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.

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That sickening feeling of regret gripped Satoru as he sat down on the rough, stoned surface of the stairs outside Jujutsu high. He tried to reminisce the moments he had shared with his one and only, best friend Suguru Geto. He hoped that it would relieve his feeling of remorse after the incident. But instead, it made him feel worse. So worse that it made him feel more empty–an emptiness that was sinking deeper and deeper into the dark. He's the strongest, but why couldn't he save his loved ones? He just wishes that he had the ability to rewind the time.

EVERYONE knew that the two bestfriends were inseperable. Yet, was what so important to Satoru had been taken away from him.

Not until......

"Yo, Satoru, are you okay?" Shoko asked as she was approaching the white-haired man, who seemed depressed. Who did nothing but just stared at the ground while sitting on the stairs. It was rare to see Satoru in this state—His usual joyful and playful attitude replaced by a quiet demeanor now, made Shoko feel bad for him.

"...Yeah, I'm fine, it's just that... " He paused, not knowing what to say afterwards. He couldn't think of any excuse.

"... Don't worry, I understand." Shoko replied as she pulls out another cigarette. Searching for the lighter in her pocket.

"..Oi, Ieri-san, what do you think, am I the strongest because I'm Satoru Gojo? Or am I Satoru Gojo because I am the strongest?" He has been pondering about the same questions over and over, and still couldn't find the answer to it. But just now Shoko was too busy with her cigarette, that she didn't perceive what was Gojo was saying.

"Sorry, we're you talking to me?" Shoko puffed the smoke out of her mouth, and puts the cigarette back in to her lips.

Gojo sighs, "Well, forget it. Let's just go, that old man might start exploding by now if we go back to his class late again. " He finally stood up from the staircase as he walks together with Shoko back to class whilst watching the bright blue sky through his sunglasses.

After a few walks on the way to class, Shoko spots an unfamiliar girl who was wearing the same uniform as her, she had a pretty face. But the girl seemed puzzled of where she is right now.

Shoko taps on Gojo's shoulder, "Hey, is that the new transferee from Kyoto? I heard she's the same year as Nanami."

Gojo looked down from the sky, "Eh? Ha? What transferee? Whe–oh... " The moment he laid his eyes on you, he felt a rush of emotions. He's confused of what he is feeling. Why is his heart beating so fast? Why does his face feel hot? What? What?? You're even prettier than the model that he has as his wallpaper on his phone, just who are you?

(hey!! Waka inoue is very VERY pretty, this is just based on Gojo's perspective in my fic) (Also, think of this as the bg music of this scenario the moment gojo lays his eyes on you)

The way he is feeling right now felt so soothing and comforting, as if that emptiness he felt earlier felt like it was no longer there anymore.

He felt weird—for him, he felt like there was a connection between the two of you. His six eyes tell him that he's just crushing over you, but his soul tells otherwise. You were absolutely WAY more than that.

.

.

"Oi! Satoru! Stop daydreaming, that girl seems confused right now. We should ask her." Shoko snaps her fingers in front of Satoru's face, bringing him back to reality. "O-okay...!" His whole body tensed, and Shoko cringed at his reply.

As they approach you, your gaze met Satoru's, he feels even more tense. By now his face turned as red as a tomato.

You quickly ran towards them, feeling relieved that you finally found people that you can ask help with finding your dorm. You may have been to Jujutsu high's sister school, but this school was way different than the one in Kyoto.

"Oh thank goodness. I'm a little lost right now, but you guys must be the 3rd years. I'm [last name, first name]. I'm a transferee from Kyoto Jujutsu high. Nanami-san has told me about what you guys looked like in case I ran into you. " You said shyly.

Shoko smiles at your introduction, she knew you the both would get along well. "I'm Ieri-san, I work with healing a ton of people. And this is–" The moment Shoko points at Satoru, he scratches the back of his head, trying to avoid looking at you. Fuck, he's never acted like this in front of new people before. What were you doing to him? The only thing he could do right now is just to shyly wave his hands at you. "–Gojo. He may look stupid but he's actually really strong, he's a special grader."

Shoko went to take a look at Satoru, thinking why he was so quiet. Usually when he goes to introduce, he'd go boasting. He could even take an hour to introduce himself. The way he looks right now was so awkward–Red face, sweating, the way his eyes were avoiding to look at you, and he ONLY waved at you. Now that she has given a thought to it, mischievous thoughts filled up in her mind. She now found a new way to tease Gojo.

Upon hearing their introduction, your face lit up. They sounded really cool! You were happy to have them as your seniors. At that moment you didn't notice Gojo's awkwardness; you were more concerned about finding your dorm. But you wouldn't mind a little talk with them.

"Oh, I've heard a lot about you and your insane powers! You're really famous. I knew you were in Tokyo Jujutsu high. So when I was gonna transfer, I was looking forward to meet you." You were referring to Gojo.

When you looked up at him, his sunglasses were resting on the bridge of his nose, revealing his ice-blue eyes. His long white lashes framed them perfectly. His eyes we're sparkling like a sunlight above the rim of his glasses. You were slightly taken aback by how breathtaking his eyes looked. And he also had a well sculpted face. Now you understood why you kept hearing girls squeal about this particular guy.

After Gojo heard your comment about him, he felt like he could seriously melt at this moment. He stuttered a short "...T-thanks..." in reply. How long will he stay here talking with you? He can't take it anymore!

And it seemed like the gods heard his prayers, Shoko gave Gojo a teasing look. She pat his shoulders and told you that he wasn't really feeling well today. "Sorry, this guy kinda got a fever today. He'd go bragging about himself if he wasn't. He's gonna have to go back to his dorm right now." Shoko looked at Gojo with raising her one eyebrow up, giving him a teasing smile. It pissed Gojo off that she knew he had an instant crush on you. But anyway, she still helped him. "Gosh darn it you Shoko. "—he mumbled.

You turned to look at Gojo to see he was turning away now, a little disappointed that you guys didn't really get to talk that much.

"...Oh, I see. Get well soon then!" You yelled, but not too loudly as Gojo was about to head back to his dorm. But after all the talking, you remembered why you were here in front of Shoko—"Oh yeah. I forgot to ask something, it says my dorm is **** but I don't know where it is. Please help me find it!"

And after that, she was able to help you find your dorm, but the thing is..

*what happened after*

Satoru: "Shoko, what the fuck do I do. It's like I'm being tested, her dorm is right next to mines!!!??" he panics.

Shoko: "Looks like somebody's whipped..." *she raises both her eyebrows up and down repeatedly*

Satoru: "Oh my gosh shut up, I feel like I could melt any minute. What the heck is that woman doing to me... "

Shoko: "You were all emo and stuff earlier, now you're all giddy? She really did a huge impact on you. Aaaanddd it's the first time you were acting timid."

Satoru: "I know! When I first saw her, it felt so weird. I dont know how to explain it! It's like....weird in a good way.... "

tags: @byakuya61085 @angelsleepinggurl

[actiniumwrites]

BLURRED LINES

synopsis: the defining moment that changed the course of your relationship with them from being enemies to that of lovers

characters: kaeya, yelan, scaramouche, ayato, cyno, dottore, and alhaitham x gn!reader (separately)

warnings: enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, injuries, blood, fighting, harassment (not from any of them), not proofread

notes: idk man i just wanted to write some enemies to lovers scenarios. each of these get longer as they go, so uh, sorry if you wanted some of the first ones to be longer cause i don’t really know what happened 😭 enjoy <3

Kaeya watched how you laughed so loudly, so confidently at him as you fought somewhere behind him. It was as loud and recognizable as usual. He felt his heart beat faster — flushed, annoyed, and fed up with your constant need to one up him, laugh at him for no reason, and point out each and every small mistake he makes. As the Cavalry Captain racked his brain for a comeback, anything to take you off your high horse, his ears began to hurt as your laughter faded into that of dreadful screams. Blue eyes caught yours in an instant, turned so fast that his body almost gave him whiplash. No. He couldn’t lose you. Not like this. Not when he hadn’t realized his hatred for you was nothing more than a guise for his buried love.

Yelan’s faint laughs scared the people on the harbor. Such an intimidating women, softly — yet arrogantly — laughing to herself was certainly an odd sight to see. She had bested you once again, and you hadn’t even known it yet. And Archons she couldn’t wait to see the look on your face when you realized it. Her laughter quickly subsided at the faint sounds of desperation and begging, coming from somewhere within a nearby alleyway. Nearly walking past it out of the need to be in other places, Yelan stopped in her trail when the whimpering cries turned into your voice. Fury festered throughout her body in an instant. Nobody was allowed to mess with you, not unless it was her. Maybe she hadn’t realized it yet, but she would do anything to protect you — even if it meant giving her life.

When Scaramouche fell limp out of the robot, falling from great heights as he plummeted to the ground, he held no beliefs he would be caught — no less by the hands of you, his sworn enemy. Yet, there you were, arms wrapped tightly around him as the traveler and Paimon stared at you in shock. Something about the way your heart felt the moment you saw him fall was deeply painful, like weeds growing around your heart. Though, the strong heat from your love was enough to burn those weeds, enough to propel yourself forward without thought and save the man you had unknowingly come to love. And as Nahida watched the scene play out in front of her, a knowing smile crossed her face.

Ayato loved nothing more than to argue and debate with you. It came as a package deal alongside the fact that you were from the Tenryou Commission and he was from the Yashiro commission. Because god you were so smart and always had the perfect comebacks, even though it was infuriating when you would win. What he didn’t like, however, was when he would watch you argue with someone else. Especially when you lost to them. Ironic, right? He hated watching his enemy lose? So when his eyes spotted you around the corner of Ritou, backed up against a wall as a rude man berated you, his eyes filled with fury and his heart was racing. No one was allowed to treat you like that. So he took care of them for you, even though he knew you were fully capable. And as you stormed away from him, he was left with a single question: if you were supposed to be his enemy, then why the hell did he care so much about you?

The moment Cyno saw you fall backwards, he scoffed. Honestly, when were you actually going to beat him while sparring? But then you didn’t get up. Cyno swore he felt his heart fall out of his chest. And oh archons, the moment he saw blood, the weapon fell out of his hand and his feet propelled him forward. His knees scraped against the rugged bricks of the floor as his arms wrapped themselves around your torso and hoisted it against him. But then your eyes opened and the laugh he always thought was so beautiful fell from your lips. Stopping when your eyes met his serious expression, you joked, “What? Don’t tell me you were actually worried about me?” Cyno’s eyes pierced through yours, a serious, yet genuine, expression painted across his face, “Don’t scare me like that, it’s not funny…I thought I lost you for a second.”

Dottore felt annoyed the moment he heard you knock on the door. So he ignored it, knowing only you would be stupid enough to get hurt and go to him at such late hours of the night. You could’ve seen another doctor, but he knew you loved to annoy him more than anything else. But then the knocks came again, weaker and more fragile this time. Sighing, he opened his door, only to find you. Your eyes were kept on the floor, but he could see the tears that pooled in them. Blood adorned most of your body, and your clothes were all tattered and torn. The arm that was holding you up against the door gave out and you collapsed, but not before Dottore caught you in his arms. You were mumbling, shaking, and absolutely terrified as you leaned against him. And yet, for some reason, Dottore couldn’t help but feel a small feeling of warmth spreading in his cold heart at the thought of you coming to him when you were most vulnerable. Though, it wasn’t enough to stop the anger he felt for the person that hurt you.

Alhaitham sighed for what felt like the thousandth time that day as he spotted you in the library late at night. Shouldn’t you have already gone home? Or were you just trying to get ahead him again? Perhaps aiming to steal his position at the Akademiya this time? He never knew with you, but at least the competition kept things a little more entertaining each day. So, he made another sarcastic comment toward you on his way out. He couldn’t see your face from the way you were sitting, but your silence stopped him in his tracks. No rebuttal? No comeback? Not even an annoyed sigh? And then your shoulders started to shake, and small whimpers fell from your lips. Shit. Alhaitham didn’t know what to do in situations like this. But even so, he stopped and walked toward you. Sat down next to you and stayed quiet, only offering a few tissues and some water he had on him — which you hesitantly, but gratefully took. Maybe you were his “enemy” and maybe he didn’t know how to deal with people crying, but for some reason it felt natural with you and he sure as hell wasn’t going to leave you alone.

[ghost-in-the-hall]

Fall For Me (Poly! Sleep Token x Fem! Reader) - Part VII

*inhales aggressively* VESSEL CHAPTER!!!!!! FINALLY!!!! Reader has a talk with the boys about what exactly happened with the night's kissing incident, after so much time of him being a bit distant towards reader Vessel decides to let his softer side show, plus more moments with III because I'm in love with him and I can't help myself sorry not sorry hehe I can't wait to know what you all think of this chapter thank you all so much for all the wonderful comments. If you would like to be added to the tag list please let me know!!

WARNINGS: discussion of boundaries, proposals of a polyamorous relationship (I tried my best to make it realistic but I, myself, am not polyamorous), fluffy stuff per usual. NOT PROOFREAD

My Masterlist! ~ AO3 Link!

Part VI - Part VIII

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The sight before you almost made you want to laugh. The four grown men that sat in various seats around your living room almost resembled a group of school kids waiting anxiously outside the principal's office. “I’m sorry.” III was the first of them to speak up.

“No, if anything I should be the one apologizing.” II quickly follows, both of them unable to even look in your direction.

“I’m not upset at either of you, I’m just… confused.” You respond softly.

“It started off as simple crushes; me, IV, III, Ves.” You noticed Vessel’s shoulder tense as he was dragged into this conversation as well. “We all think you’re beautiful-”

“And very sweet.” III adds on. You can’t help the subtle smile that finds its way to your lips at their compliments.

“We could tell things had gotten a little more serious between you and III so we all decided to back off. But, I can’t lie to you,” II chuckled, “I’m a very jealous man. So when someone tries to keep me from what I want I don’t typically respond the best.”

“And I don’t feel right asking you to commit solely to me when you clearly have feelings for II, as well.” III adds his piece. You found it odd, there was no anger in his voice at the thought of you with his friend. “I guess what we’re trying to say is, um…” he trails off, looking to II as he searches for the right words to say.

“How would you feel about dating all of us?” Vessel breaks the thick tension with his blunt question. You felt like all of the air had been punched from your lungs, your heart jumping into your throat as your head snapped in his direction.

“Vessel, you can’t phrase it like that!” IV groans from his spot on your couch, dropping his head into his hand.

“What? She's a big girl, you don't need to beat around the bush.”

“Dating… dating all of you?” You finally mutter after a few moments of shocked silence.

“Obviously only if you're comfortable with that.” III stands from his seat, slowly stepping closer to you. “You don't have to say yes to any of this. It doesn't matter if you want to date only me, or if you would be okay dating all of us. Hell, after dropping this on you, there's a chance you might not want to see any of us ever again.” You didn't miss the nervousness that laced its way into his laughter. III was genuinely scared that this was going to fully push you away. “But, it's about what you want, that's the important part.”

“And you're all okay with this?” You would be lying if you tried to say you didn't find the offer very appealing. Every member of the group that sat before you drew you to them in one way or another, they were definitely an attractive bunch to put it lightly; III with his subtle intensity, who was always making you laugh, II who would turn you into a flustered mess with his sweet words, IV who’s easily excitable nature and blind confidence when it came to complimenting you made your heart thrum in your chest, Vessel who lets his hand linger on your waist as he maneuvers around you doing restock days, who holds your gaze for perhaps a little longer than necessary when wishing you goodbye at night. But, could you really handle four relationships? 

“The way we see it, we’d rather share you with others who we know are going to take good care of you than to be forced to hold our tongues about how we feel about you.” II explains.

“I…” you trail off as you look between the four of them. “I need some time to think.” Your voice shook slightly as you spoke.

“Of course.” Vessel responds. Without another word II, III, and IV stood, quietly said their goodbyes to you and left your apartment. Vessel hung back for a moment, waiting for III to fully shut the door behind him before breathing out a sigh. “I'm sorry that all of this happened the way it did. I kept telling them to wait to bring it up.” His gaze drops to you, who was silently fidgeting with your fingers as you leaned against the wall.

“I can always tell them to back off, love.”

“No, you don't have to do that.” You brush him off. “It's nothing to do with any of you, you're all incredible. It's just- it's me, that's what the problem is.” You tried to force a laugh to prove to Vessel that you were fine, his unchanging expression let you know immediately that he saw right through you. “You're all so wonderful, and the fact that you would be willing to make such a huge compromise.” You stare through the slits of his mask, believing you were meeting his eyes. “What if it's not worth it?”

You didn't have time to register what was happening before Vessel was in front of you, pulling you into a warm embrace.

“I know I might not be as… prominent with my acts of affection as the others.” He pulls back slightly, one large hand coming up to cradle the back of your head as your eyes instinctively rise to look at him. “But, considering II put things out in the open, I need you to know that I care for you viscerally.” The soft growl that found its way into his voice made your cheeks grow warm. “I don't want you to feel pressured into anything you don't want, but I need you to understand that there has not been a single moment since I met you that would make me think any of this wasn't worth it.” You blink slowly as a hand comes to rest on the top of your head, comfortingly patting the spot. “Would it be alright if I came and checked in tomorrow?” You nod, reluctantly letting your hands fall away from their position pressed against his chest as he stepped back, his warmth fading away with it.

“Goodnight, Ves.” Your voice cracked slightly as you tried to keep your overwhelming emotions in check.

“Goodnight love, rest well.”

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

You watched the second hand on the clock tick, bringing you closer to when Vessel would usually make his nightly supply runs. You hadn’t managed to sleep at all the night prior, tossing and turning as you played through every scenario you could think of as you made your decision. At the sight of the familiar pick up truck rumbling into the lot you felt your heart race. “This is it.” You muttered out loud to the empty store. “No going back now.” He poked his head through the door before fully entering.

“You still open?” He offers you a playful smile.

“No, but for you I'll make an exception.” You giggle in response. He slowly steps inside and approaches the counter.

“How’d thinking on things go?” He rests his elbows on the counter, bringing him closer to face level with you.

You set a hand down on the counter, Vessel cautiously reaching out to take it in his own. He hesitates for a moment, his hand drawing back slightly as if he was preparing to pull away. His fingers were rough against the soft skin of your hand when he finally decided to take his, his thumb running languidly across the peaks and valleys of your knuckles as he waited patiently for your response. “I want to take things slow… but the thought of having all of you to myself is a little too good to pass up.” He breathes out a chuckle, flashing you a sharp smirk that makes your breath catch in your throat.

“Is that so?” He mulls over how to respond to your statement for a moment. “How about I make us dinner and we can sit down and talk about how slow you want to take things, just so we can make sure everyone is on the same page.”

“You want to cook me dinner?” You shoot him a playful smile. “Is it going to be edible?” He bellows out a laugh in response.

“You're funny, you know I've been told I'm a wonderful cook.” He points an accusatory finger at you, standing up to collect what ingredients he needed from around the store. “Just you wait and see, this is going to be the best damn meal you've ever eaten.”

The whole thing was a bit strange in the best way. If he hasn't told you so directly you would've sworn that Vessel thought of you as little more than an acquaintance. But now, you were sitting on your kitchen counter, a glass of white wine swirling around in your hand, rolling your eyes playfully at all of Vessel’s terrible jokes as he made the two of you dinner. He asks you where you keep your plates, you easily reach into the cabinet behind you and produce a pair, holding them out to him with a soft smile. He carefully plates the pasta he made, penne with bacon and spinach and some type of cream sauce he had pulled together with odds and ends from your pantry. “It smells incredible.” He saunters in front of you, trapping you on the counter by placing a hand on either side of your waist.

“And here you were questioning my culinary skills.” He feigns a hurt tone before a soft chuckle rumbles from his chest. “Come on beautiful, let's go eat.” He pulls away from you, your body trailing after his warmth. You pad your way into the living room, Vessel close behind as he carries your plate for you. You sat close together on the couch, angling yourself to better face him. “So, define slow.” He jumps in immediately.

“Let me at least get a couple bites in.” Vessel can't help but smile at your teasing tone. “I just… I don’t know. This is all so different I don't think I can really tell you what going slow even means.”

“Well, I can assure you that all of us care a lot about how you feel during all of this.”

“And I know that.”

“I think you're worried about more than just taking things slow, love. What's on your mind?” The softness to his tone immediately lulled your anxious mind into a sense of safety.

“I'm worried about things developing quicker in certain relationships than others, I just don't want that to cause any of you to fight.” You absentmindedly twisted your fork around in your fingers, studying it as you tried to put into words what was racing through your mind.

“That might happen, but if it does it's alright. Unfortunately that's just something we have to deal with.” He chuckles. “There's no doubt in my mind that you would be more comfortable moving a bit quicker with III than you would with me, he started flirting with you from the start. We all know that you're in various stages of getting to know us, we're more than willing to give you time to figure all of that out.” Hearing him being so reassuring made the heaviness weighing in your chest lighten considerably. “Is there anything else I can do to ease that pretty little head of yours?” You slowly shake your head no before pausing. You looked at the man before you, swallowing thickly as you mulled over an idea. Vessel was an enigma to you even after months of knowing him. He was aloof, quiet, but the few rare instances he let part of his personality break through you could tell just how wonderful he could really be.

“Dance with me?” The question hung in the air for a moment before Vessel wordlessly rose to his feet.

“I will warn you, I'm not much of a dancer.” He chuckles, outstretching his hand for you to take. His palm was warm against your fingertips; the smudged edges of his paint were a stark contrast to the pale skin underneath.

“What a shame, neither am I.” You giggle in response before he pulls you to your feet. He looks around the room, making a small sound of affirmation to himself before pushing your coffee table out of the way to open up the space. You walked over to a bookshelf in the corner of the room, clicking on your radio and letting the soft tune crackle to life. Vessel stood in the center of the room, hands shoved into his pockets as he waited for your return, a soft smile settling onto his lips.

“You look really beautiful today.” He says softly, one strong arm reaching out for you and wrapping around your waist when you were within reach. Your fingers intertwine with his, Vessel watching carefully as each delicate digit slotted between his own. Your cheeks grow warm as you timidly accept the compliment. You had never been this close to Vessel before, feeling the way his muscles tensed and shifted under the hand that rested on his shoulder sent a shiver down your spine. You were unable to tear your eyes away from him, the intricate detailing along the edge of his mask highlighting how wide and bright his smile was as he gazed down at your flustered form. The music you had turned on was non existent at this point, the only thing mattering at this point in time was Vessel finally allowing you the briefest glimpse inside his walls. You managed to trip over your own feet, yelping slightly as you stumbled into him. “Easy now, I got you.” He chuckles, helping to steady you on your feet. “If you're going to faint at least wait until I kiss you for the first time.” He jokes

“Already thinking about kissing me, huh?” You smile coyly

“It'd be hard not to with a pretty face like that.” You let out a flustered laugh, your eyes dropping to the floor. You jumped when there was a sudden knock on the door. You reluctantly pull out of Vessel’s grasp, his fingers trailing across your waist as he tries to remain connected to you until the last possible moment. You slowly open the door, not knowing who to expect on the other side so late. You froze when your eyes landed on III, who was nervously swaying his heels on the creaky wooden landing outside. The moment he realized you had answered he immediately began to ramble.

“I'm sorry, I know you said you needed time to think and I absolutely respect that. I just, I know we kissed, and if you decide you don't want to go through with this I don't want it to make things weird-”

“III.” His mouth snaps shut as you softly say his name. You look back into your living room, Vessel’s head rested in his hand, he seemed mildly annoyed to be interrupted. Not knowing how to respond, you simply pushed the door wide open, III’s attention immediately drawn to Vessel. “We were actually just talking about that.” His eyes widen slightly, his gaze switching between you and his friend.

“Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt-”

“I was just leaving, actually.” Your brows furrowed in confusion. You turn to face him as he walks up to you. He cradles your face in his hand, “tonight was wonderful, I hope we get to do this again soon.” He swipes his thumb across your cheek, leaving a thin black streak in its wake. “Goodnight, love.”

“Goodnight, Ves.” You respond breathlessly. You turn to face III, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth before reaching out and taking his hand, tugging him inside your apartment. His eyes stay locked on you as he follows you through the door, shutting it quietly behind him. “I really enjoyed, um… kissing you last night was really nice.” You let out a flustered laugh. “I don’t want you to worry that you made things weird.”

He chuckles, “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it.” He stuffs his hand in his pockets, shifting his weight awkwardly. “I hope that talk you guys were having was a good one.”

“I think you’ll be very satisfied with the outcome.” You giggle. He gazes at you curiously, the usual playful sparkle back in his eyes when he realized he hadn’t scared you off.

“Is that so?” He saunters closer to you, his towering height and intense gaze threatening to make your knees buckle. “You let me know if any of this is moving too fast, okay?” He says sweetly, gently cupping your jaw.

“Okay.” You smile up at him. He trails his thumb over your bottom lip, his bright blue eyes darting around your features as he drank in the sight of you.

“You are simply gorgeous, love.” He whispers after a moment of silence.

“You flatter me too much.” Both hands slide around your waist, gently pulling you flush against him.

“I'm only telling my girl the truth.” He smiles. Your eyes flash up to meet his, the declaration of being his girl making your heart flutter in your chest. “Well, it seems like we have the night to ourselves. What would you like to do?” Wordlessly you take one of the hands that had settled against the curve of your hip, guiding him towards your couch. You threw on a movie, something mindless that you didn't need to pay attention to. Tonight was about spending time with III. No distractions, no hidden feelings, just you and someone who made you feel like a girl experiencing her first crush all over again. III takes you in his arms, laying back and pulling you on top of him in the process. One arm resting comfortably behind his head, the other slung over your waist as the two of you cuddled in a comfortable silence. “You know, I was really worried all of this would make you never speak to me again.” He speaks up after a while through a quiet chuckle.

“I was definitely a bit nervous about the idea, still kind of am if I'm being honest.” You laugh softly, absentmindedly tracing shapes against the soft material of his sweatshirt on his chest. “But, none of you have given me any reason not to trust you, so despite being nervous I feel like this is the right choice.”

“How you feel about this is very important to me, okay? If there's ever anything I can do for you love, just let me know.” He rubs his hand soothingly up and down your back, keeping you pressed close to him almost as if he was scared if he let you go you'd disappear. The two of you stayed up talking late into the night; you learned that III is more of a cat person than a dog person, his favorite color is red, and he would willingly disappear into the woods without a trace if it meant never folding laundry again. “It's such a dumb concept, I'm going to put the damn clothes on anyways. Why do they have to be folded and put away?” You hid your face against his shoulder, trying to hide the fact you had tears forming in your eyes from laughing so hard. You look up at him with a bright smile, the tangent dying in his throat as his eyes meet yours. He slowly sits himself up on his elbows, your body responding as it gradually slid into his lap. One of his hands pressed into the small of your back, keeping you held as close to him as possible, the other moving to cup your cheek.

“I haven't been able to stop thinking about kissing you since last night.” You admit in a tone barely above a whisper.

“Trust me, I wasn't doing much better.” He chuckles, his gaze briefly flashing down to your lips. “Everything about you… everything about you is just so perfect, and for the life of me I can't figure out why you give me the time of day.”

“Because you make me feel like I'm the only girl in the world.” Your voice shook as you spoke, you could hear your heartbeat thundering in your ears and you were nearly positive that III could hear it too.

“Because you are the only girl in the world for me.” He admits without a second thought. “I haven't been able to get last night out of my head. Of course I want to kiss you again, but this time I want to kiss you and mean it.” Trembling fingers rose to the edge of his mask, glancing up at him through your lashes asking for silent permission to raise his mask enough to kiss him. He nods, studying your nervous expression as you gently took the edge of the fabric and raised it to just below his nose. Your breath was snatched from your lungs as III crushed his lips against yours, your mind immediately swimming in the overwhelming sensation that was him. His lips subtly sweet as he eased your mouth open, his tongue carefully caressing yours, making sure to take things at a bear agonizing pace in order for you to be able to back away at any time. Your hands slid up his torso, III shivered under your delicate touch. You felt lightheaded as the kiss took over your senses; the euphoric feeling of his warm lips against yours, the deep, earthy smell of his cologne, his massive hand kneading at the softness of your hip. You both pulled away equally breathless, your hands coming up to his mask in order to readjust it into place before he had a chance to.

“I think you definitely meant it this time.” You giggle, your forehead falling to rest against his.

“There's going to be plenty more where that came from.” He winks playfully at you.

III decided to leave you for the night when you could barely keep your head up anymore. He scoops you up in his arms. You grumble in annoyance despite the fact you immediately begin to nuzzle your face against his chest. “Where are we going?” You ask through a yawn.

“I’m taking you to bed sweetheart, you need to rest.” He chuckles.

“-’m not tired.” You try to protest, your actions only make him laugh again before he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Says the woman who can’t keep her eyes open.” You could hear his smile in his voice.

“I don’t want you to leave.” You admit softly.

“I know love, but you have a store to run, I’m afraid I’ve kept you up more than I already meant to.” He carefully maneuvers himself so he’s holding you in one arm, pulling back your blankets with his now free hand. He lays you gently into bed, his knuckles trailing across your cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” His head dips down, allowing you to share one more chaste kiss before he left you to fall into a dreamless sleep.

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

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[anakinstwinklebunny]

Clayton beresford x Female hockey player headcanons? Please and thank you!

CLAYTON BERESFORD X F!HOCKEY PLAYER HEADCANONS ⛸️

TW: at some point it contains sexual content, so if you're sensitive to that or don't feel comfortable with it, please do not read it for your own safety and comfort. THIS IS AWFULLY SHORT FOR SOMEONE LIKE ME

Author's note: I was never really interested in hockey so it was new to make. Although I hope I got everything, and if I made a mistake, please accept my dearest apologies. Also I got A LOT Clayton requests and wow..you guys are the best

Clayton Beresford who spotted you at the hockey game;

Clayton never imagined he'd find himself at a hockey game, let alone a women’s hockey match. His close friend had practically dragged him along, insisting he come to support his girlfriend, who played for the local team. Clayton agreed, more out of loyalty to his friend than any real interest in the sport.

The game was intense, fast-paced, and full of energy—much more exciting than Clayton had expected. But it wasn’t the speed of the players or the roar of the crowd that caught his attention; it was you. First, he caught a glimpse of your eyes.. somehow..and he felt something he for the long time had not felt at all. A fluttering feeling escaped through his body, unlocking the almost forgotten cell to butterflies that made him feel nervous with a deep hint of excitement

Gosh, he was there before and it didn't end well. He promised himself to stay away from women...yet he couldn't help this. He felt powerless to the feeling. His jaw tightened

He was a damn CEO, Clayton Beresford..yet he couldn't control his feelings..

"Nice game, huh?" His friend broke him out of his thoughts with a gathering pack of his cigarettes to the woman's disgust at their left

"Sir, you can not smoke in here" she said as the man hold back an eye roll

Clayton Beresford who the same night was introduced to you by his friend;

After the game, Clayton couldn’t shake the image of you from his mind. As fate would have it, his friend introduced him to the team after the game. When it was your turn to shake his hand, Clayton was momentarily lost for words. Up close, you were even more impressive—strong, yet approachable, with a warmth in your eyes that contrasted with the fierce competitor he’d seen on the ice.

“You played an incredible game,” he finally managed to say, surprised by how genuinely he meant it. Although he made sure to tear his gaze away from you and quickly scann all the girls from your team, so it would look like he's talking about them all

“Thank you” you replied with a smile, feeling a weird fluttering in your chest

Gosh, you were there before..he's just a random man that happened to just squeeze your hand a bit too long and have this extremely handsome fa-- no, you promised yourself to never look at another man after things with Luca..you can't just fall for any other guy that just wanted to congratulate your team..you're better than that, y/n

Clayton Beresford who over the next few weeks, found excuses to attend more games. Each time, he stayed a little longer after the match, hoping for a chance to talk to you. And each time, you found yourself looking forward to seeing him again. There was something about him—his quiet confidence, his genuine interest in you as a person, not just as an athlete—that drew you in. Your conversations started simple, about the game or mutual friends, but soon they became more personal. Clayton was different from the usual crowd you attracted—more thoughtful, more introspective. He wasn’t intimidated by your success or your passion for hockey. Instead, he admired it, and that admiration slowly turned into something deeper.

Clayton Beresford who invited you to dinner (aka date) after months of relationship (just because he wasn't sure to trust you after an experience with Sam)

Clayton Beresford who after months of dating asked you to move to his penthouse

Clayton Beresford who was your number one, biggest fan. Always tried to appear at your every game and if he couldn't, which was very rare, he watched it on his computer during his work

Clayton Beresford who learned to love hockey, not just because of you, but because he saw how much it meant to you. And you, in turn, found yourself drawn into his world, supporting his endeavors with the same passion he showed for your career.

Clayton Beresford whose gentle, nurturing nature was the perfect counterbalance to your fiery determination on ice. He admired your determination and strength, while you appreciated his thoughtfulness and stability.

Clayton Beresford who had with you a special game-day ritual. Before every match, Clayton (sometimes..but often) made love to you in hotel room..just a quick stress reveal session;

Clay's lips devour yours, hungrily returning the passionate kiss as he presses you against the wall, his hands wandering your body possessively "you're gonna play good for me, right baby?"

"mhm--wanna make you proud"

Clay's lips trail down your throat, leaving a trail of fiery kisses, when he murmurs against your skin "I will be, I promise... just give me everything you've got...but I'm already the proudest I could be" his tone breathless

You grabbed his curls, pulling on them slightly as he thrusted into your tight entrance in and out

He groaned so sinfully after deepened kiss, his hands gripping your hips as he thrusts deeper, hitting that sweet spot "you'll make me so proud, baby. my perfect little athlete..."

His words did not help with overtaking feeling you felt that made you almost surrender to it to the point your eyes closed

his hips snapping against yours with a fierce intensity "open your eyes, baby... I want to see those pretty eyes when you come undone for me..."

"its--its hard--"

He smirks against your lips, his thrusts becoming more urgent as he reaches around and grabs your ass, pulling you closer to him "i know..but look at me, baby... I need to see those pretty eyes"

he lets out a low groan as he feels you give in to him, his hips never stopped moving as he continues driving into you "yes, baby-fuck, just like that...ya can feel how close you're making me feel, hm?"

just as you were about to speak, clay covers your mouth with his hand, his thumb pressing against your plump, almost swollen lower lip "shhh, baby...save it for when I tell you to scream."

Clayton Beresford who, after particularly tough games, takes charge of your recovery at home. He’ll run a hot bath, prepare a meal, and make sure you get a massage to ease your muscles.

Clayton Beresford who is your emotional anchor when things get intense or when the pressure gets too much

Clayton Beresford who often works out with you (mostly in the mornings). Whether it’s hitting the gym or going for runs. Although not always he wants to, his more of a guy who could sleep all day and waking up around 6am only to exercise is..not really pleasing for him

Clayton Beresford who has accepted this part of your life where you love the cold and winter sports. For him it wasn't so shocking (although he prefers more warm weather). But still, you two often go on winter getaways to ski resorts, where you spend time skiing, snowboarding, and enjoying cozy evenings by the fireplace.

Clayton Beresford who's there for you during recovery (when you're injured and etc). He's really helping you to stay positive during this time and ensuring you have everything you need

Clayton Beresford who often took you out for small (or bigger) dates in your both free schedule

Clayton Beresford who absolutely loved to tease you about most of the things

Clayton Beresford who often searched comfort in your presence

Clayton Beresford who once surprised you with custom-made hockey gear. He collaborated with a designer to create equipment that was not only high-quality but also personalized with little details that meant something to both of you—like your initials intertwined with his, or a small symbol representing your relationship engraved on the inside.

Clayton Beresford who has a special tradition for celebrating your victories. After every big win, he takes you to your favorite spot in the city—whether it’s a cozy café, a scenic overlook, or a hidden gem of a restaurant—where you can relax and bask in the glow of your success together. And if your team lose, he tries to keep you positive, not overthink it much and focus on what's important.

Clayton Beresford who is a soft dom (obviously) however he loves watching you ride him. Struggling sometimes to accommodate his thick member in your tight core

Clayton Beresford who you visit on random days at his workplace out of boredom

Clayton Beresford who proudly wears the jersey with your number during games

Clayton Beresford who often got irritated at paparazzi that usually follow you two when you're in public, as people that just want to spend time with each other outside the shared walls

Clayton Beresford who saw you create a memory box filled with mementos from relationship with him—ticket stubs from your first game, photos, small gifts you’ve given each other, and even a few of those pre-game pep talk notes.

Clayton Beresford who's really on making expensive vacation in only high-quality places

Clayton Beresford who bought you expensive gifts

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @erosmutt @haydensprettyprincess @mistress-amidala @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @fuckmyskywalker

(if you want to be removed or added then don't be shy and let me know 💋)

[fartcushion]

What Are Friends For?

'Oh yeh, this has done it' I thought as I finished the last slice of pizza. Extra meat and extra cheese, the greasier the better. This was on top of of the full fry up I'd had for breakfast. The cabbage stew for lunch. Topped off with a protein shake. Not that I'd been to the gym today, that wasn't the point. I'd just had one, on top of all that heavy food, to get myself nice and gassy. My stomach was bloated with gas and it was starting to bubble away inside.

I have been planning this day for a while now. Ever since I worked out my friend, Joel, had a fart fetish. At first I'd thought it was just the usual, gay guy fancying his straight best friend. I didn't mind, he was free to lust after my ass. Nothing would happen, but he was free to look. But I realised he liked it more than just to look at. I'm a gassy guy and my blasts can clear a room, but not Joel. He'd always make a comment on them. Hed sit on the floor next to me, said it was "more comfortable". No amount of farts would shift him. He'd just get closer through the night.

Now he'd never admit it to me, he was too shy. I felt bad for the guy. He didn't have much luck with pulling guys, maybe his fetish made it hard. So I'd decided to help him out. I planned a day of food that I knew would aggravate my stomach, get me all gassed up, and invited Joel over to watch a film.

He arrived on time, which was great because I could not hold these in for much longer. As he sat down in his usual spot on the floor I went to the TV and turned it on, making sure to silently release a fart and crop dust him as I walked past. He didn't say anything but I caught him staring at my ass as I passed. So on the way back to the sofa I turned and stood in front of him as I loaded Netflix, letting him get a good view.

Releasing another small silent fart, only this time in his face, I looked down. "Do you need anything?"

"No...no...I'm good. Shall we start the film?"

I sat down on the sofa next to him and pressed play. The film hadn't been going for more than 5mins when I let out an enormous fart.

PPPPPRRRRBBBBBB

After holding them in and only releasing the silent wisps so far, this one had erupted out. More than I'd planned.

"That was a big one!" Joel joked, laughing a little. "Gassy today? Thought I smelt one when you got up"

"Yeh, my stomach is rough. Sorry about that"

"It's fine. You know it doesn't bother me".

The smell of the fart lingered, it had a meaty scent, one of my better ones.

But I was just getting going. I let out a couple more silent ones to really fill the room. Letting Joel stew in my fumes. Never once saying anything. Happily sitting there, watching the film he'd say of course, but still he was inhaling pure methane. I knew my suspicions were right, no one else would have stayed in the room, let alone sit so close to the source.

It was time to push it. I let out a triple assault.

Prrrrbbbb

Pbbbbtttt

PPPBBTTT

Laughing as I unloaded I began wafting the air. "Oh man, they stink! Here, breathe through this", and I handed him a cushion of the other end of the couch.

Joel took it, faked using it as a mask for a second, then just gave me his innocent smile and placed it behind him. "Ha, thanks, but I'm fine, I'm used to your butt bombs".

Damn this guy loves my gas. Needed to crack him before I eventually ran out. I wanted him to openly embrace it, not just sneak sniffs from the side. I decided to give him a little treat to tide him over, until he was ready to open up.

The farts were now putrid, even for me and I'm used to my own flavour. The milk from the protein shake was really kicking in. But I was able to let out some quiet wet ones. I moved the cushion next to me down a bit so half of it was under my ass. Then for 10mins released a constant stream of silent farts on to it.

Casually I pulled it out and passed it to Joel, need another cushion? I could feel how warm it was from the farts and being flattened under my big ass.

Joel looked like he was going to decline it, then the smell must have hit him. Could have sworn his eyes glazed over, he took it and placed it behind his head but turning so his face was pressed up against the scented fabric. He wasn't even facing the film now.

I watched as huffed on the cushion, away in his own little world. The first cushion he had behind his back was pulled out and placed over his crotch to cover, I assume, evidence he was pitching a tent. I was thrilled.

"Hey, Joel, I have a gift for you"

"What is..." Joel began before being interrupted as I slid down the sofa and turned so his face was mms from my hole

PPPPPRRRRBBBBBB

My fart exploded in his face. I swear it blew his hair.

Joel looked shocked. "Damn, man, what you do that for?"

"It was a gift, I knew you'd like it"

"I don't like your farts"

"Sure you do! You're always sitting next to me, despite how gassy I am. Tonight I have been actively butt bombing this room and you have been vaccuming them all up. Plus you have been glued to a literal fart cushion for 10mins. Mate I paused the film and you never noticed!"

It was quite cute to see him get all flustered. He went a little red too.

"I don't...I just don't mind..."

"Don't worry about it" I said. "It doesn't bother me. I mean I've had no issue when you walked behind me on the stairs so you can stare at my fat ass, though I suppose you were back there sniffing it secretly. I don't mind when you make jokes about it. We're friends, it's just fun for me, and something you really want."

Joel didn't say anything, I may have doubted my instinct had it not been for one fact. He still hadn't moved. My ass remained hovering inches from his face.

"Honestly, just admit..."

Prrrbbb

"...you have..."

Pffftttt

"...a fart fetish".

PPRRRRRRPPPBBBBB

With each toxic blast Joel closed his eyes and sniffed deeply. When the last fart ended he looked up at me. Eyes watering. Clearly conflicted to unload his biggest secret. As seconds ticked like an eternity, the silence lingering along with the smell of my farts in the air, Joel eventually reached for his cock and gave it a gentle squeeze. I could see it pressed hard against the waistband of his jeans. That moment of pleasure must have tipped him over, he looked at my ass and whispered, "I have a fart fetish". And with that he dove in, sniffing the back of my joggers and getting his nose up in my crack. "Thank you!"

I lay there, proud of myself as Joel pigged out. "You're welcome...

PPPPPRRRRRRTTTTTTT

...what are friends for?"

[cherry-leclerc]

bye bye baby ☆ dr3

genre: angst

word count: 2.5k

inspired by this !

cherry here!... the req was to write about danny boy, but the concept of this was that i was feeling very dramatic, per usual, duh. wrote this today since i’ve had bye bye baby stuck on REPEAT. 2 posts in 1 day, YIKES. enjoy! :)

The ups and downs that take place in your relationship once Daniel is left without an F1 seat. 

“What do you mean you’re out?”

Furiously, Daniel unzips his fireproofs as he ties the sleeves around his waist. He rummages through his duffel bag, growing more and more impatient, then takes a cautious step forward when you hand him his water bottle. “Thanks,” he lowly mutters and takes a long sip. The Australian shakes his head and looks blankly towards the white wall. “They want someone younger. More talented.”

“But you’re talented, Daniel! You’re better than anyone here!”

Letting out a weak smile, he angles himself lower to hug you before pulling away and brushing your hair behind your ear. “No, I don’t think I am anymore.”

That was two months ago when news came out that your boyfriend would no longer be driving for McLaren. It was a complete shock, considering everyone loved the bubbly Australian, but it honestly didn’t hurt anyone more than it did you. Often, he would remind you that he was the one left without a seat and that you should be glad you would both have some time to disconnect and be together. 

Your shake your head as you munch grumpily on a stack of pancakes. “I love that you’re around—of course I do—but what they did to you was completely unfair. Who in their right mind expects good results for a shit car? That’s their fault, not yours.”

He lets out a smile. “Relax, baby. I get it. You don’t want me around.” Sharp eyes narrow as you fling a pair of gloves at his chest, from his recent addiction to dirt biking. Don’t even, you warn. He lets out a sigh, then he opens his mouth for you to pop in a bite. Digging your fork on a piece of pancake, you raise your arm up to feed him. He hums at the taste. “I was kidding, but seriously— it's okay. I’ll get over it. You should, too.”

As much as he said he was doing fine, you knew something wasn’t right. He was hurt, felt betrayed, and it did him no good to keep rejecting his feelings. But you didn’t bring up the topic anymore. You knew he didn’t like the reminder of what once was.

-

Dirt crunches underneath your boots as you walk up to him and Scotty. The Australians are hunched over, trying their best to fix their bikes as they share a bottle of cheap beer underneath the blazing sun. The twenty-nine year old spots you first as he squints his blue eyes. You’re up early. You flip him off as you pretend to kick a pile of dirt towards him. He comedically raises his arms as he wiggles his brows. “Chloe is looking for you. I think she’s gonna beat your ass.” 

He quickly stands up as he blows a deep breath directly to your boyfriend's face. You cringe. They share a quick look before Daniel shoots a thumbs up. “You’re good.” Thanking him, Scotty rushes past you as he hands you his left over beer. Making your way over to the brunette, you take a seat next to him as you spill the remaining dark liquid.

“Isn’t it too early to be drinking?”

“Isn’t it too early to be looking so beautiful?”

You muster a glare. “Don’t change the subject, Daniel.” Avoiding eye contact, he just keeps his tired gaze entertained on an Acacia tree. Bringing the bottle up to his lips, he lets out a low whistle. It’s hot. A cold beer helps. “Right,” you mumble as you flicker your own eyes towards the green tree. You can still spot it—your initials and his engraved. He had done it one evening when he and Scotty had one too many drinks. He had stumbled all the way just to drag you and show you. Because I love you. Even when I’m drunk, I love you like crazy.

“Trees getting old. Might be time to cut it down.”

You flinch at his words. “Can I have a sip?” He raises his brows as he hands you the bottle. You just had one, he tries to joke as he watches the way you chug it down. Drying your lips, you crane your neck to look up at the blue sky. “You never minded sharing before.” He can distinguish the way your voice sounds—as if you’re upset over something he might’ve said—but he knows he hasn’t done anything wrong. Standing up, you hand him back the glass bottle.

“Cut the tree. I don’t care.”

-

“And to my beautiful girlfriend—you’re everything to me and I love you. Without a doubt, the best birthday present I could ever ask for.” Raising his Coca-Cola can, the brown eyed boy sends you a wink with a bright smile plastered across his face. A face you’ve grown to recognize. The one you love.

Making his way over, he throws his arms over your shoulders as he rocks you side to side. You smile against his chest. “How does it feel to be thirty-four? Do you have bad knees already?” He lets out a toothy grin and he slaps your ass. “It’s just a question!”

“My knees are fine. As long as I can still kneel down in front of you—that’s all that matters, no?”

You blush at his words as you jokingly push him away. This only makes him cling onto you harder. Squinting your eyes up at him, you trace heart shapes against his biceps. You sincerely feel the happiest you’ve felt in ages. This is the Daniel you knew like the back of your hand. “I was thinking maybe we can take a trip. Anywhere, really. To celebrate—"

“My birthday?” He beams. “This is why you’re the sweetest girlfriend in the entire world!” No problem, you shyly respond as you pinch his t-shirt in between your fingers. Kissing you one last time, he excuses himself to go welcome some late-comers. Chole zig zags her way over to you as she gives you a side hug.

“How’d it go?”

You sigh. “He forgot. He completely forgot. I don’t think I can entirely blame him—I mean, it is his birthday.” The fact that you have to defend him makes the blonde furrow her dark brows. Shaking her head, she hands you a slice of chocolate cake.

“Never in a million years did your guys’ anniversary slip his mind. What a dick.”

But you’re not even listening. You’re too flabbergasted that he cut his cake without you being there with him. 

-

Whether it was a trip to Vermont for his birthday or your anniversary, it didn’t really matter, because you loved every second. It’s almost like he needed this break. To do something different that didn’t feel like a forced routine. You went hiking, apple picking, to a million bars that only served barbecue ribs—and you never felt more at peace.

Handing you a bouquet of flowers, he kneels down in front of you. You roll your eyes as you take the colorful peonies from him—though inside you were shaking like a seventeen year old getting her first glimpse of love. “What’s this for?” He shrugs as he takes a seat next to you.

“Just because.”

Those were your favorite types of flowers. Intertwining his fingers with yours, you both continue chatting about anything and everything that crossed your mind. As you both pass by a peach tree, he lets go of your hand as he brings up his camera with sudden determination. Stand right there, baby.

Trying to express your happiness as best as you can, you hug your gift close to your face as you smile so wide, your eyes nearly shut. 

“You’re mind blowing,” he murmurs as he snaps the picture. He takes a moment to admire you as you jog over to him. Show me! He clicks his tongue. “It’s digital. You’re gonna have to wait.” You pout as you pinch his cheek. Bringing your hand up to his mouth, he presses warm kisses.

“I have something to tell you.” Your heart stops, suddenly filled with anxiety as he smiles with giddiness. What is it? “I’m going to be driving again! I mean, it completely sucks for Nyck, but I’m just so happy to get back into an F1 car.”

“Nyck? As in the Alpha Tauri driver?” 

He nods. “I got the call last month—a few days after my birthday. Best present ever.” Once again, his words cut you deep without him even noticing. Nevertheless, you force a tight smile.

“I’m so happy for you, Danny. You’re finally getting what you’ve wanted for so long.”

-

When you both get back to Australia, it surprises you a bit how normal things have stayed. He’s smiling more—if that was ever even possible—he’s laughing louder, too. Roaming the house, you rub your eyes from sleepiness. Scotty and Chloe share a laugh when they spot you. “And Sleeping Beauty has finally woken. I didn’t think that was possible.” Chloe smacks his chest as she sends you a wink.

“Humor me, why don’t you?” Your gaze flickers across the living room. “Where’s Danny?” 

“Outside.” 

Sliding the door open, you step out as you try your best to adjust your eyesight to the bright sun. As soon as it does, your stomach drops. You run up to the brunette as you pull the ax from him.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Startled, he jumps up as he takes his earphones out. “Holy shit. You scared me, don’t do that!” Tears fill your eyes as you analyze the chopped tree. You’re no expert, but you can tell that there’s no going back. The only result that comes out of this would be for it to come crashing down. He rushed over with panic, checks you everywhere to make sure you weren’t hurt. You brush him off.

“Why would you do this?”

He cocks his head to the side, brown eyes filled with confusion. “I’m so lost, what did I do?” Anger bubbles up inside of you as you force yourself to not scream at him. “You’re okay, so why are you crying? Oh no. Did Scotty wake you up again? I told him not to do that anymore.”

“I’m done.” You wipe your tears as you let out a bitter laugh. “I am so done.”

“What do you mean you’re done?”

“I’m saying I give up! Fuck, I give up. That’s it. You win. I just —can't.”

He tries to take a step closer, but you only distance yourself twice as much. “You’re scaring me. What’s wrong?”

“I’ve tried so hard to understand you, I really did, but I’m just as tired as you are, okay? I tried to ease your pain when McLaren let you go, but you kept pushing me away. I tried to be there for you on days you felt like nothing, but to me you were always everything. I tried to not let you see how much it hurt me when you forgot our five year anniversary. I tried to not act like it bothered me when you cut the cake I spent hours baking for you, without me. I tried to not act surprised when I found out you kept the news from me about you returning to F1 for one fucking month. But I can’t try and pretend that you cutting down this tree hasn’t broken my heart.”

“It’s just a stupid, old tree—"

“I don’t think you understand! It may be old, and it sure as hell could be stupid, but it was ours.” You grab his hand harshly as you drag him to the other side of the tree. His eyes grow wide. I didn’t remember—I swear I forgot that was even there! You let out a wet laugh as you toss your hair over your shoulder. “You’re hurting me, Daniel. Can’t you see?”

“You’re the one who said I should cut it down. You can’t seriously just be blaming me.”

“And who came up with the idea first?” 

He lowers his gaze as he runs his left hand against his clenched jaw. “I’m sorry.” He connects his desperate eyes to your glossy ones. “But don’t say all those things, please. You’re right. I’ve been an awful boyfriend, but no one understands me better than you.” Placing his hands on either side of your face, he lets out soft pants. “You’re everything to me, how could you have possibly felt that way? I love you.”

“Love me like what?” He furrows his brows as he searches for an answer. You scrunch your nose as you push his hands down. “I thought you loved me like crazy.” His stomach churns. “Listen, I love you, Daniel. I love you so fucking much, but even I can see that I’m not your happiness anymore. Not the way I used to be, at least. You have other priorities, other plans—”

“No, you’re my priority. You always have been.”

“Except I haven’t. For a moment, you went radio silent. It was a one-sided relationship, but I loved you so much that I stayed. I pushed past it. Then—one random day— your smile came back. You were insanely happy and I thought...” You shut your eyes. You can feel the salty tears trickle down your face. “I thought it was because of me. Now I realize, it hasn’t been about me for a while now. It’s so obvious that the only reason you were cheerful once again was because you got what you wanted. You got a seat.”

“You’re wrong—"

“I’m not.” You let out a shaky breath as you bite down on your lip, a weak attempt to not let out loud sobs. “I would have gladly taken part in your pain, but you never let me in. You never let me get close enough to help you out.” Making your way up to him slowly, you tippy toe as you lean in for a kiss. What hurts the most is that all of a sudden—he’s kissing you the exact same way he did when he first told you that he loved you. He was giving it his all. Pulling away, you let out a low whimper as you feel your chin tremble. Your smile wobbles. “Can’t force something that’s not there anymore, can you?”

Taking him in one last time, you rub his forearm as you gently pat it before you walk away. Daniel feels paralyzed as he watches you go. He’s expecting you to turn around at least one last time and he’s expecting his body to let him run after you, but neither of those things happen.

Hesitantly, Chloe and Scotty make their way to their frozen friend. They had heard the fight, but decided it was best to not intervene. 

“She left.”

The couple share a concerned look as they take in the weak tree that was clearly about to fall at any moment. Chloe sighs, then walks away, making a beeline to find you. Though, she knows you better than anyone. You weren’t going to return. And she completely understood why.

Scotty takes a step back and shakes his head in disbelief. 

“She fucking loved that tree.”

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

No longer yours to keep

summary: what happens when you and Xaden bond with mated dragons but you're already dating Garrick?

warning: pretty suggestive, some iron flame spoilers.

Kind of part II

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

For as long as you could remember it had been you three against the world. Your families had been extremely close so it was inevitable for your three to end up being best friends. And it was like that until you all started to grow up. And once the teenage years kicked in so did the desire to explore and learn new things.

You mingled in this relationship with no boundaries, no labels for a bit. Until Xaden had to uphold his duties. Had to agree to be engaged to a girl just for the sake of power. That of course meant that you and Garrick had been slightly pushed to the side. Xaden was barely free to spend time with you, barely there for your usual nights out. Meaning that you and Garrick fell into this easy rhythm. This bonding over losing a friend you two loved dearly. And without any big gestures. Without any grand signs had fallen in love.

Garrick had always been made of sharp edges, similar to Xaden. Just Xaden used that as a form of self-defense when he needed to be out in the public and Garric... He had always been on the rougher side. Had always been harder to read. To predict. But he was an amazing lover. There wasn't a moment where you felt unseen or unheard. Yes, he had his moments but once he stewed over them, he would always come to apologize. To make it right. And he was so protective. Boy, was he protective. It was both a charming thing because it empowered you even more but... it was frightening too because Garrick's heart was in your hands, he had let you in deeper than anyone else. And you had planned to keep it forever. Had planned but...

But then threshing came. You three were at the top of your squad. Ready to grasp the best spots in the section. Garrick and Xaden were already waiting when you emerged. They had remained close friends throughout the years. Lost had changed and in all honesty it was you who bitched to Xaden the most. "We can do the next shipment after we bond with dragons", Xaden said quietly. There was a revelation brewing. And surprise, surprise Xaden was at the top of it. "I'll get the boys to take the boxes tonight", Garrick said, as his arm sneaked around your waist, "Hey", he muttered pressing his lips to your temple. "Everything's okay?", you asked, earning a nod from them both. "Excited to bond?", you looked across the field as the wind picked up.

"I have my eyes set on a dragon I want", Xaden said firmly. "Of course you do", you rolled your eyes, suddenly feeling the urge to cling to Garrick as if this might as well be the last time you two were gonna see one another. "You're okay?", Garrick wrapped an arm over your shoulders, you hesitated for a moment but... they were your childhood friends after all.

"I just have this weird feeling", you breathed out, "Like something is about to change". Xaden snicked from beside you and Garrick threw him a glare. "We will be bonding with dragons today, princess", Xaden mused. "Might be. Don't be too full of yourself", you bit back, Garrick instantly brought you closer to him, hands on your hips, "Don't bite his throat out, baby". Xaden pushed away from the wall, "I'll see you two there".

You huffed out a breath. You didn't want to be a bitch but that man was grinding your gears at times. He was also putting himself in so much danger and for what? A fucking title? "Tell me about what's worrying you", Garrick cupped your face. Your eyes met his. God, you loved this man. "I just have a bad feeling", you muttered, "I don't think that anyone is dying today but... I think that things are going to be different. Really different". Garrick tilted his head to the side as he watched you. "All I care about is that you come back to me", he muttered, "with or without a dragon, I just want you back by my side". His words clenched at your heart because somehow deep down you had an inkling that that was exactly what wasn't gonna happen.

You had crossed paths with burnt flesh multiple times. Guess this year's threshing theme was roasted cadets for dinner. You were so tired. Sure, this had to end soon and you would have to admit your defeat. And just... A puff of hot air hit your back making you still. You could feel its presence behind you. You took a deep breath in before turning around. And here it stood. The biggest black dragon you had ever seen. "Holly fuck", you breathed beneath your breath.

Your head was buzzing. Every fiber of your skin was on fire. You could believe that you had bonded with a dragon. A black one at that. Black dragons rarely bonded. Lower your ego he snarled in your mind. You slide down his leg ready to give your dragon's name so you can be officially linked when an overwhelming sense of emotions hits your chest. You faltered slightly. Gripping the edge of the table a huge scroll will names was placed on it.

You hand fell on your chest as the edges of your vision blurred. You let out a pained breath as your eyes snapped up and here he stood. On the other side of the field. A blue dragon by his side. Eyes burning holes into you. Hands in fists. What the fuck... you felt an arm wrapping around your waist. Oddly enough wanting to pull away because it just didn't feel right only to find Garrick inches from you, cupping your face. And then everything went black.

Your eyes snapped open with a jolt. The moon was casting faint light over the room. Garrick was passed out beside you. His hand wrapped around your middle. You brushed your fingers through his messy hair when a wave of need rushed through you. Need that wasn't however in any way related to the man that was next to you. Come to me. The voice rang in your head making you jolt. And even if you didn't want to. And even if you tried to fight it. Tried to fall back asleep. Tried cuddling into your boyfriend. Not even fifteen minutes later you were padding through the quiet corridors.

You didn't even have a clue as to where you were going and yet here you were, standing right next to the person that had taken over your mind. "Why the fuck do I feel you in every fiber of my body, Riorson", you said through gritted teeth. Your body grew warm just from the sight of him. "Our dragons are mated", he said bluntly, puffing out a cloud of mirth-root. You instantly crossed the distance between you too, snatching the blunt and taking a hit yourself. The overwhelming feeling eased slightly, but your body still yarned for him.

"We need to sort this out, get this fixed", you muttered, brushing your fingers through your hair in frustration. "How do you plan on doing that? They have been mates for centuries. Fuck, we hadn't even been born back then", Xaden huffed out. "I'm with Garrick, I won't leave him, I...", you muttered in panic, but Xaden's hand that sneaked up your throat made your voice die down.

"They are fucking", Xaden said through gritted teeth, eyes hazy as he looked at you. You could feel it too. Gods, even the smell of him. "We can't... I can't do this to him", you pushed back, trying to keep distance between you two. "Do you think it's not eating me alive?", Xaden growled, cursing under his breath, "I watched Garrick falling head over heels for you. You're it for him, and now...", Xaden turned around, bracing a hand on the wall as he breathed. Please hold your pleasure to yourself you snarled at your dragon. But it's like your words didn't even reach him.

You took in a shaky breath, right as your eyes met Xaden, and within the blink of an eye you were pressed against the stone wall, legs wrapped around Xaden's hips. His teeth buried in your neck as you dug your nails into the back of his neck. It felt as if your body was on fire. As if only with him near you could finally breathe. "We can go back to having an open relationship", Xaden breathed against your ear. You shook your head, "Garrick will never share, we're in too deep", you muttered. Xaden let out a growl, "If he'll want to keep you, he will share, baby". His hands moved up your shirt, Garrick's shirt, and that was a reminder enough for you to push against Xaden's chest. You wiggled till he finally lost his grip on you. "If you'll challenge him for a claim of me, I swear to everything I believe in, I will suffocate you in your sleep", you pointed a warning finger at him. Xaden only chuckled, "You'll be crawling to me", he breathed out. Dark eyes watching you. "Fuck you, Riorson", you huffed, "You'll do that to baby", he mussed right as you turned around. Practically running back to your room. Heart beating in your chest so loudly that for a while it was all you could breathe.

[tabbedtabby]

good luck, babe! | chapter 2

regina george x reader

summary: After the Queen Bee of North Shore makes up rumors about you taking pictures of girls in the changing room, you decide to take matters into your own hands. You didn’t think that would mean coming to a reluctant agreement with Regina George.

a/n: i wasn’t gonna add cady but now i am because it’s convenient for me so just pretend she’s in the last chapter lol. also they get high way faster than what’s accurate but i wrote this in like 4 sittings it felt longer to me pls spare me. if the picture collage thing is ugly i’m sorry i’m not a tumblr native 😭 but anyways big thanks to everyone who interacted with the first chapter mwah!!!!! (photo creds from left to right: @/mediorcesav on insta, @/marvelsgirl616, casual mv by chappell roan)

——————————————————————

When the bell rings after 7th period, you’re already halfway out the door.

You’re already sober enough from earlier so you’re desperate to get outside, even if Regina will be there. You bite the inside of your mouth in annoyance. You like your after school alone time; you didn’t want the person who literally ruined your social life to be there. At least maybe she’ll leave right after you smoke. You realize she most likely won’t after you remember she drives. How could you forget that bedazzled orange Jeep?

You feel the dappled sunlight sink heat into your skin once you enter the woods behind the baseball field. It really was a nice day. You make your way to your usual spot and lift up the pile of sticks and leaves that hide your forest stash. The guy who sells to you charges a ridiculous amount for carts compared to just the plant so you try to use them sparingly. Even if this shit stinks up the whole forest.

You’re not sure if Regina will care or not if you start without her, so you pull out your phone to pass the time. Besides, you want to be sober anyway when she finally shows.

After about 20 minutes of standing there, you start to get impatient. You almost pull the bag out to start without her before you finally see a flash of blonde hair from behind the trees.

“Took you long enough.” you mutter, already opening the bag without paying Regina much attention. Your patience was windeled, and you don’t especially want to talk to her anyway.

“Sorry I have a social life. I guess you wouldn’t know,” she snaps back, her voice strained.

You feel the annoyance crawl down your back like a centipede, and you have to bite the inside of your mouth to stop yourself from saying something back to her. She holds basically your life in her hands since you’d be both fucked and poor if she decided to snitch on you. Probably not a good idea to start a fight on the first day of your little deal, but she made it difficult.

You grab one of the cans from under the pile of leaves as you see Regina cross her arms a couple feet away from you. Her eyes watching your every move makes you a bit wary on instinct. You feel like a mouse being stalked by a snake. You grab a decently sized piece out of the bag and put it on the crushed can. You couldn’t be bothered to roll your own blunts, so this was the next best thing.

“How much have you smoked before?” you ask, just wanting a general idea on how much she should have so that you wouldn’t have to drag her to the parking lot. Apparently, she takes great offense.

“What are you, my mom? Just hurry up so I can get out of here,” she says begrudgingly, like being out here was the biggest possible drag on her life. She was really grating on your last nerve right now.

“Trying my best.” you respond dryly, giving her a snide smile as you fiddle with the lighter.

“Well, obviously it’s not good enough. What are you even doing, anyway? This is the shadiest shit I’ve ever seen—”

You blow the first hit out of your mouth harshly. “Can you please just shut the fuck up? I don’t want to be out here with you either!”

“That’s shocking. I’m surprised this isn’t your ultimate wet dream, being alone in the forest with me,” Regina sneers, nothing but disgust on her face. Like you were some kind of animal instead of human.

“What’s that going off of? The photo collection that you made up?” you snap, putting the can down for a minute. “Believe me, I want nothing to do with you either. But since we’re gonna be out here every day, you could at least make it a little easier.”

You can tell she wants to rip your throat out just by the way she looks at you. Pursed lips, downturned eyebrows, piercing blue eyes surrounded by eyeliner almost as sharp as the look she’s giving you right now. She’s way too tense for someone about to get high.

“Whatever.” she finally says, although the edge to her voice makes you want to scoff. Better not to sour her mood more than necessary, though.

Pleased with the newfound silence, you light the piece on top of the can once more and take another hit. It’s strong enough to make you cough, and you sit down against the foot of a tree. Regina raises an eyebrow at you.

“I thought you were supposed to be some kind of professional,” she says, but her voice isn’t quite as taunting as before. It almost sounded like a joke. Maybe she was considering not making this hell for you after all.

“It’s not good if it doesn’t make you cough.” you respond with a shrug. She looks at you expectantly, but you pretend you don’t see. You don’t want to have to stand back up just to pass her the can.

Eventually, she sits next to you (albeit, begrudgingly) and you pass the can to her, lighting it again when she puts her lips up to it. She explodes into a coughing fit the minute the smoke hits her lungs.

You can’t help but snicker at the sight of Regina George coughing her lungs out with just one hit from the can. It was almost strange to see her not perfectly arranged the way she was at school. You were up close enough to see the strings that sew her together.

She glares at you from the corner of her eye, but it only makes you laugh harder. You’re acting stupid right now and you’re aware of it, but you can’t stop. It’s a nice sort of high. Not like when you smoke too much and everything starts to blur together, which happens more than you’d like to admit. But this is nice. You lean back until your back touches the grass.

Regina has a couple more hits until she’s smoked about everything that’ll come out of it, and you both just lay there on the forest floor. You’re surprised she isn’t whining about dirt getting on her outfit. Maybe she’s too stoned to care. She never did answer your question about her tolerance.

Your thoughts go elsewhere as you stare up at the sky. The tops of the trees cover most of it. The sun from behind the leaves make them look almost as if they are glowing. It’s so beautiful. You wish you could reach up and feel it between your own fingertips, the fabric of the sky.

“You don’t care about what I think about you.” You hear Regina say, her voice only a couple of feet away from you. It sounds more like a statement than a question.

You don’t why it’s funny to you, but it is. You feel the laugh escape your lips before you can stop it.

“I guess not.” you respond, even though you’re not certain if she wanted a response. It sounded like she was just thinking out loud. You feel that.

“Everyone else does. They grovel to me like lap dogs.” she says amusingly, although her voice drags and you can tell she’s starting to get tired.

“You don’t like it?” you ask with surprise.

“It’s the way it should be,” she declares, as if you’re stupid for even asking. “But everyone else is a less hot version of me. It gets annoying talking to the same clones that hang onto my every word. Like, just be normal for once in your life,” Regina complains, an annoyed edge in her tone near the end. Somehow you could tell she was talking about Gretchen. That poor girl really did hang onto every little thing Regina said or did. It was almost worshipful. But in an unfortunate, sad kind of way.

Her problems didn’t seem all that hard compared to others, but you don’t say anything. It’s intesting to you to hear her talk about this stuff, to see what goes on in her head. You’d never really considered what her life was like. You wonder if there’s a reason she’s the way that she is. There must be. Everyone’s a product of their environment in some shape or form. Of course, it doesn’t excuse everything she’s done, but that thought makes you want to get inside her head somehow.

You shake your head at the silly train of thought. Regina George was just plain mean. Nothing more to it. You turn your head to look at her as you realize you never responded.

Her eyes are closed, hair splayed out on the forest ground. She looks stoned as fuck, her chest rising and falling dangerously slow. You snort and roll your eyes. How low was her tolerance? You already felt mostly normal again.

Somehow she still manages to look perfect, even if you could mistake her as a corpse. You lay your head back down. Your parents wouldn’t mind if you were home a little late, right?

-

After that, you and Regina would meet to smoke behind the school almost every day, except when Regina had plans with her friends and you would just go alone. You still wish she wasn’t there, but sometimes she’s okay to talk to when she isn’t being a priss. She complains about her friends and boys and how sometimes in the morning her eyelash curler refuses to work. It’s entertaining to hear about how shallow her problems are. You still want to punch her most of the time, though.

This time around, however, she’s complaining about math. Something about her teacher failing her on purpose or something to make her have sex with him to get her grade up. You seriously doubt that’s true, but you listen anyway.

“Like, he’s totally obsessed with me. I know how to do the work, but he always marks it as wrong anyway. That Cady girl helps me with it, and she’s some kind of math freak.” Regina exclaims, taking a huge hit from the smoking can. She immediately sputters and you take the can back from her with a slight roll of your eyes. That’s probably enough for her.

“Is she, though?” you ask, taking a hit from the can yourself. “She’s in my Calc class and lately she’s been doing really shitty. I guess you guys are rubbing off on her,” you say with amusement.

Regina takes a deep breath, an agitated sigh coming out of her. “What’s the point of her tutoring me, then? They’re gonna take me off the soccer team if I don’t start passing like all of my classes. It’s like she wants me to fail.” she seethes, and she sounds genuinely upset. She could afford to pay attention in class instead of doing her makeup if better grades is what she wants, but alas.

You kind of want to offer to help her, but it’s her own fault so you bite your tongue. You put the can down with a sharp sigh. You’d rather not smoke too much around her in fear that you’ll start acting stupid and she’ll post it all over the internet. Just the slightly more giggly high is fine for now.

Regina stares bullets through you as your stash back under the pile of leaves. You pick up your backpack and get ready to leave. You feel fine enough to walk home.

“You’re not gonna offer to help me?” she asks indignantly, as if you owed it to her. You have to bite your lip to keep from groaning in annoyance. Could she be any more of a spoiled brat?

“Why would I do that?” you respond, feeling that your distaste seeps through your voice as well as your expression. You’re tired, both from school and from hanging out with Regina for too long. You just want to go home.

“Because I’m keeping your secret?” she says with that tone that reminds you of a viper. The one she uses to get whatever she wants from people by threatening to ruin them. Your chest bubbles with that same anger as that day in the cafeteria.

“Dude, I’m literally your plug. I’ve done enough for you to keep your mouth shut.” you snap, slinging your backpack over your shoulder. She was really starting to piss you off. That’s how it was with Regina; just when you think she’s all right, she starts doing this bullshit again.

“So what? I don’t need weed. I can break our deal whenever I want. Besides, you’ll only tutor me until the end of the month. It’s not that deep.” It’s only the beginning of October, so you’d be wasting more of your time with her for the next month, but of course she doesn’t include that. God, you’re so pissed off, but what can you do? Not be able to smoke anymore? Get suspended again? You hate that she can just hang this over your head until you comply. You bite your lip hard enough to draw blood as you stare at her, one of her hands on her hip and her eyebrows raised as if you’re a dog she just told to heel that won’t listen. Your hands bunch into tight fists until your knuckles turn white. You really wish you had seen her with that bruise right about now.

“Fine.” you spit, pushing your way out of the clearing and back towards the school. Great. Now it would take even longer to shake Regina off. You shoulder branches of leaves out of your way, your feet kicking at the dirt. You wished she could just be fucking normal and that she never started any of this in the first place.

“I better see you tomorrow, loser!” You hear Regina scream from somewhere behind you. God, you were gonna kill her. Or yourself. Whichever came first.

[xiayannie]

☆ scummy scara drabble

headcannons I suppose

cw(s) : smut, afab! fem! reader, cumming quickly, weird scara, weird reader ??

I actually love scummy scara

he's a virgin loser who has never felt the touch of a woman.

↳ scummy scara who froths at the mouth like a rabid animal whenever he sees you

it doesn't even have to be you dressed up in any type of way, scara just automatically follows you with his eyes and imagines all the (im)possible scenarios and fantasies he has with you

when you do dress up a bit skimpier than usual, he'd be ogling at you, thinking of how you proved him wrong by thinking that you couldn't look any hotter than you already did.

↳ scummy scara who is inexperienced and has unrealistic ideas about sex

↳ scummy scara who wants to play out his cringy imagination (which he gets from the anime he watches)

↳ scummy scara who can't believe that it's all real when you finally do talk to him !

↳ scummy scara has a nosebleed when you've straddled his lap, him getting a full view of you pulling up your shirt to reveal your plush breasts that he dreamt of seeing up close

↳ scummy scara who can't muster up any words, moaning like a whore and cumming within seconds when he bottoms out in your warm cunt

↳ scummy scara feels like he's in heaven as you tease and bounce on his cock, which you claim is "surprisingly big"

scaramouche cries when you lean down to give him a peck on the lips. he's in disbelief that you're in his room, all cuddled up on his chest.

you can't help but let out a small laugh, finding him adorable in the way he reacts. he's never touched a girl, let alone talked to a girl longer than needed, so he's in awe as he blushes at the proximity you're both in.

it's so... intimate. your skin is so soft, and you're so warm and much more tiny than he imagined (not to mention, way more charming and hotter than he imagined in his little scenarios).

without realizing it, he had grew another erection.

you quickly felt it twitch and throb slightly against the fat of your ass, and you couldn't help but to tease the boy a little.

"you're ready for another round?" you smiled, flipping the both of you over, with him onto this time.

"how about you try topping me, lover boy? just try not to cum too quickly this time."

scaramouche was shaking as his hands made his way about, feeling confused and scared to think about touching your sacred body.

his worries were eased as you guided him, and he couldn't help but slap his hips into your warm and wet cunt in a frenzy once he bottomed out, because it felt too good not to.

your moans and words of affirmation made him melt into the crook of your neck, as he tried to be good and listen to you, trying his best not to cum quickly.

"f-fuck... s-sorry...! ah! I might cum soon..." he whined out, feeling you clench around his cock.

"... it's okay, cum for me." you managed to coo out to him between your soft pants. scaramouche came instantly, feeling weak in the knees as he collapsed onto you.

you smiled, realizing that he fell asleep from exhaustion.

scaramouche, despite his watching and curious looks towards you, never realized that you noticed his shy glances. it was cute, you thought.

you would wait in spots where you saw him sometimes, just to see his reaction to your newest low-cut top. and you would purposefully bend down in front of him when you wore a skirt, all just to see his face contort nervously, and to see his cheeks redden.

the thought of tainting his image of you being innocent and sweet was all too tempting, and you finally had him wrapped around your little finger.

[damiansgoodgirll]

heyy i love ur fics sm!!! was wondering if u could do a damian fic where reader and him are on a plane tg and reader gives him a hand job and damian returns the favor

damian priest x reader

‼️smut so stay away kids

plan b

“i can’t sleep” you groaned next to your boyfriend. you were currently on a long flight going to the uk and, note to say, you hated flying.

not because you were scared, you just didn’t like it. and you were thankful for the little privacy the first class was giving you and damian because you didn’t know how would you have handled being on a ten hour flight in economy class, with all the people talking and kids screaming.

“i’m sorry love…it will be over soon” he smiled at you looking up from the book he was reading.

“can you please share the blanket? i’m starting to freeze with all this air conditioning…” you asked him and he gently opened the blanket a little more to let it pose over your legs.

another ten minutes passed and you harshly threw your phone over the little table in front of you.

damian gave you a questioning look. he knew you could get a little childish during flights, especially long flights.

“i’m so bored…i’m gonna die here i fear” you said, making him laugh.

“just try to close your eyes and sleep a bit mi amor, we’re gonna land soon” he said, scooping you a little into his side.

laying your head over his shoulder and your hands in his lap, a mischievous idea made passed your mind. it’s not like you were trying to be bratty on purpose, even though you liked it, you were just too bored that whatever idea came to your mind was better than die of boredom.

one of your hands moved under the blanket, still resting on damian’s thighs. it’s when he felt you moving lower and lower that he realised what you had in mind and even though he was craving for your touch, he didn’t want to catch the attention of the other passengers.

“what are you doing?” he whispered.

“you know exactly what i’m doing…” you said back while your hand palmed his growing length over his shorts.

“shit” he hissed “we shouldn’t do this here…”

“you don’t want it?”

“i do want it mi amor…what about the people? they will hear us”

“damian everyone is asleep!” you laughed “plus they won’t hear us if you keep your mouth shut” you said before moving your hand into his boxers “we have the blanket over us…they won’t see and they won’t hear us…so sit back and enjoy it big boy” you said kissing his neck softly before starting to slowly move your hand over his length.

it was hard for him to keep it shut, and you knew it too. loving how usually vocal he is in bed, you knew he was trying his best to not make any noise.

“oh fuck…” he moaned into his hand when you moved your hand a little faster, teasing his tip with your fingers “keep doing that”

“i don’t plan on stopping” you whispered into his ear, making him shiver.

your lips touched his neck a few times, kissing the sweet spot behind his ear that you knew would make him crazy.

“i don’t know how much longer i can keep it shut…fuck, what has gotten into you uh?” he asked you, still trying to muffle his moans.

“i was getting bored…”

“oh you should get bored more often” he teased back.

“yes uh?” you moved your hand up and down his length, teasing his tip once again, feeling him shaking into your hand “you close?” you asked and he nodded.

“move your hand or i’m gonna cum on you…”

“i don’t plan on doing so” you moved a little faster, his cum covering your hand.

“how was it?” you asked, knowing the answer already, removing your hand from under the blanket and slowly cleaning the remaining cum on your hand with your tongue, making him moan just looking at you.

“very good…but, you wouldn’t think i would let you go away with this…”

“what you mean?”

“i mean���” his hand now went under the blanket and moved towards your legs “i mean lift that hips up, remove your shorts and panties and spread your legs, because you ain’t safe either mi amor”

you did as he told you. loving this dominant side of him, knowing that you were in for a long night.

[impactrueno]

I understand if you’re done talking about Lydia moving on from Beetlejuice as she gets older but I want to add (and forgive me if you or someone else has said this already) that when Lydia met Beetlejuice she was likely in a similar spot/frame of mind as she was in the movie, being a kind of social outcast who was a little gloomier than her parents like (Delia in particular of course, even if she doesn’t mean anything nasty by it… overtly), and maybe even being new to Peaceful Pines and struggling to fit in because of that.

We don’t see them meeting or the circumstances behind their friendship exactly but I think it’s safe to assume that she gravitated toward him because 1. He was likely the first “occult” thing she had ever come across, and that being an interest of hers of course she’d want him to stick around, and 2. He did not care in the slightest that she was “different” (and maybe tried his usual scummy greedy shenanigans on her before warming up to her as well).

He is fun, weird, kind of gross, literally maybe the only person at the time who she felt understood her in some way (and vice versa of course). In no way does that mean that’s healthy, even if they have great moments and fun adventures. And as Lydia grows into her own in S4 especially (because of less “censorship” yes, but this can be read as her character growing more confident in herself) it becomes apparent that she doesn’t need to rely on Beetlejuice as much to feel as though she isn’t an outcast— kind of leading her to be more at ire with his scummy shenanigans, even if he is loyal to her above anyone else, because he is no longer her only way of fitting in.

This is how I interpreted it but if you’re up to share anything else that would be so awesome woohoo. Love chattering about stuff

yeah i agree for the most part!

according to the comics this is how they met:

but i'm not too sure how canon that is. or if canon even matters when it comes to a cartoon like this lol. sounds about right to me though! even if it's implied that beetlejuice was gonna straight up kill the deetzes LMFAO

what you said about her having more ways to fit in besides beetlejuice makes me ponder......i think he'd be proud of her (he knows how hard she's had it, and also knows she has self-confidence thanks to his positive support as a friend) but also a little jealous that she doesn't spend as much time with him anymore. just a little. okay maybe a lot but it wouldn't manifest as anger like it usually does, i think he'd just feel kinda sad. long sighs and sitting bored at the roadhouse, being unable to come up with a new scam or scheme or something because all he can think about is how he could be hanging with lydia right now or wondering what she's doing that's more important than being with her best friend. he seems like the type to stew in his own juice like that (pun fully intended, look who we're talking about here)

get some therapy, BJ.

[solaris-amethyst]

💫Did I even deserve you?💫

✨Pairing: Vampire!Seonghwa x dead!gn!reader ✨Prompt: Vampire Seonghwa is still miserable many decades after losing his soulmate. ✨Word Count: 3.4k ✨Genre: angst, vampire au, soulmate au 🌙Warnings: talks of death, reader is mentioned but not alive in this story, no use of y/n, mentions of Seonghwa not feeding for a long period of time, lost of a loved one, mentions of how he wishes he wasn't on this earth anymore, grief, ghosts, let me know if I missed any warnings! ☀️️Authors note: Got this idea into my head and wanted to explore writing angst in this setting. It is very different from what I usually write and I have worked hard on this one and I am quite pleased with the outcome.

The moon was high up in the sky, illuminating the forest in a light wash of grey. Highlighting the fog that is developing the forest and the castle making it look eerie and abandoned. Cobwebs dancing around windows and moss climbing up the bricks together with the roses that are climbing parts of the castle.

Both beautiful and dangerous.

It was said that sometimes you could see ghosts walking past the windows. Some even claimed to have seen a ghost in the rose garden. Walking around and calling out for their beloved but no response.

Young children were warned not to go there. It was dangerous and better to stay away from a place that would most likely fall in a few decades. The road to the castle was brittled with rocks, thick trees and bushes.

It was not a pleasant road.

Despite that there was a lone figure hiking their way up to the castle, dressed in a black robe. The figure was walking very slowly as if every step towards the castle was painful, making him hurt deeply. Despite that, he continued on with heavy footsteps to the one place he called home.

The owl up in the tree hooted familiarly once he was spotted and the howls of wolves could be heard throughout the forest. None of this bothered the man, for he knew that no one would dare to try and hurt him. A man of the night, a bloodthirsty bloodsucker as the humans once had called people like him.

Now he and his family were nothing more than a mere legend.

A myth.

Something humans wrote stories about without believing they actually existed. Sometimes the man wishes he no longer existed in this world.

It would be easier than walking around the world knowing your fated one was no longer walking this earth.

Unfortunately he was doomed to walk this cruel earth until the end of time as it was now.

The closer he got to his home the more dread and sorrow filled his entire being. He used to be filled with such happiness coming back here but now that was all gone.

The grand doors to the castle opened welcoming, sensing one of its masters returning home. The candles lighting up as he entered the hallway and walked down towards the place where he knew his brothers were residing.

They were expecting him after all. Like they do every year around this time when he gets back from his three month search around the world for anyone who could help him bring back his fated one to life.

And like every year he came back unsuccessful.

It was as if the world was taunting him. Taunting him for not being careful enough. For not appreciating what he had and for being arrogant thinking he could best fate and death because of who he was.

Seonghwa

Your voice.

He stopped what he was doing. Only the wind was blowing in from an opened window. The figure looked around carefully, not making much movements, for us mortals it would have looked like he was completely still.

He shook his head gently. It must have been the wind. It cannot have been your voice he heard.

You are no longer here he told himself as he continued his walk towards the room his brothers were in. He could not have heard your voice whisper his name in the wind. You were dead, no longer walking this earth and it felt like his heart was breaking into thousands of pieces every single day when he remembers that.

He remembers your smile, your laughter, your kindness. Everything that he once took for granted he now misses with such intensity that he does not know what to do with himself. It is like the joy he once had is now gone, sucked out of his body leaving behind a cold empty shell.

He starts walking again. He knows his brothers have heard him arrive and he knows that they are waiting for him. The closer he gets the more he can hear them. Shuffling around in the living room, living their normal lives.

Not stricken by grief.

The doors open once again welcoming, just like the front doors to one of its masters returning home and the noise dies down as he steps inside looking around at his family. They are all there. The first ones he notices are the two brunettes sitting together on the sofa. Yunho, Yeosang. Then he sees the them, San, Wooyoung. The latter holding a large book, open on some random page that they seemed to have been discussing before he arrived. He searched for the youngest of his brothers who he found standing next to the tall blond man near the table. Jongho. Mingi. He counted them in his head, he looked around, searching for the leader of his coven. He found him, standing near the big window gazing out into the garden. Hongjoong.

A part of him felt a little better after doing the count. For some reason he had worried they would not all be here when he came back despite the fact that they were always there. No doubt. They would always be here to welcome him home after his long journey.

The blond at the window turned around and when their eyes met he gave him a smile.

"Welcome home Seonghwa. We have missed you." He said taking a few short steps forward to greet him. Taking him into an embrace which he returned.

"I am glad to be back." Seonghwa replied even if it was only half the truth. He was glad to be back seeing his brothers but in reality he was not overly pleased being back without a solution to his suffering.

"How was your journey around the world? Did you find what you were searching for?" Hongjoong questioned even though Seonghwa suspected he already knew the answer to that just like the rest in the room listening in on their conversation.

"Unfortunately I have yet to find someone or something that could help me bring back my loved one." He told him, his shoulders slumping forward. He tried to put on a neutral face but Hongjoong was smart, he could see through his facade quicker than anyone else in their coven. His eyes had shown a glimt of understanding as he nodded carefully.

"You look awful, have you been feeding at all when you have journeyed???" Wooyoungs voice pierced through the air, clearly targeted at him and he could only shrug his shoulders opting not to look at the younger vampire.

"I do not feel hungry anymore Wooyoung." Was the only thing he could give as a response and if he had not already been dead the look Wooyoung sent him would have put him 5 feet under the ground as they spoke.

"You have to feed Seonghwa. It is not healthily to avoid feeding for as long as you have! Lat time I saw you feed was three months ago before you left!" Wooyoung stalked towards him "Are you telling me you have not feed in three months??"

They stared at each other for a long while. He knew all of them already knew the answer. It was the same every year and like every year before this year Wooyoung always grew furious when he figured that he had been neglecting his own health.

Again.

He could feel the energy around him tense up. The others were clearly not happy at all with this and yet despite that Seonghwa could not get himself to care about it. Had it been the other way around he would have been furious, furious at his brothers for ignoring their health and not eating but since it was him and not them he found himself often not caring. He would rather wallow in his grief, allowing the ugly feelings tormenting him to come to the surface in various ways.

"How is my beloved? Are they still safe in their casket?" He asked, voice cracking at the word beloved.

The very thought of you not being there or the possibility of something happening to you whilst he was gone was terrifying to him and he had to fight hard to stop the tears wanting to well up in his eyes.

Wooyoungs furious eyes soften instantly when he had asked the question and the other looked at him with sympathy. Yunho nodded confirming that you were still safe, still protected in the garden he had grown just for you.

"They are safe Seonghwa. We have made sure nothing could harm them whilst you were away." San said, giving him that kind smile only San could give someone when they needed it the most. Seonghwa felt like he could see the stars in his brothers eyes at that moment and it never failed to amaze him how much love and adoration could be seen in Sans eyes and how it was always something very real. It never faded or changed no matter how many decades had passed and right now he was thankful for it.

For the love and compassion his brothers were showing him.

"Why do you not sit down? Tell us about your journey? What has changed in the world since last time you went outside?" Hongjoong questioned whilst leading him over to the big chair, gently guiding him to eventually sit down in it. A blanket was placed over him, Mingi moving with utmost care to wrap it around him to keep him warm. He almost let words of protests out until he saw the worry in his eyes.

"Your beloved would not want you neglecting yourself like this." Was all he said with a low rumble before standing up and walking over to Jongho.

That stung.

His heart ached at the comment Mingi had said. Everyone had heard it. It was impossible for them not to hear him. They just pretended like nothing had been said but he knew they were silently agreeing with him. Agreeing with the statement that you, his beloved, who no longer walked this earth, would not want him to neglect himself and his health.

He wants to respond. To deny what Mingi has said. He has rationalized in his head that you would be okay with what he is doing so he can bring you back and the two of you can live together again like you did before.

The rest of his coven sits down all looking at him with curious eyes. Waiting for him to start telling them about his journey.

"It is all the same. Nothing has really changed in the outside world. We are still myths and legends. The only thing that has changed amongst humans is their greed. I would say they have become even greedier and distrusting than before."

"Humans have always been greedy and distrusting Seonghwa." Hongjoong cut him off before sending an apologetic look when he glared at his coven leader.

"I would say they are even more so now than before. I searched through every country on this bloody earth and I found no one. No one who could help me bring my beloved back. The sights I saw when wandering should have taken my breath away but all it did was make me angry. Furious that they were not next to me witnessing it all. At one point on a cliff looking out at the ocean I screamed. I cursed everything living and dead that day. I was so angry and I still am." Seonghwa spoke, his hands fiddling with the blanket as his eyes darken in anger.

His brothers look at each other in worry. They had hoped after many decade that Seonghwas fury and anger would dwindle down but it only seemed to grow with each year. Wooyoung looked at his older brother and friend in sorrow, he had been close to you, Seonghwas beloved, when you were still living and breathing. He understood the pain and anger Seonghwa was feeling but he also knew that you would not wish this upon anyone. Once having confided in him that you would want them to move forward to be happy, not to forget but to eventually come to cherish what had been rather than constantly living in the past thinking of what you could have done together if only things had gone differently.

"And I-" Seonghwa started but stopped once he heard it again.

Seonghwa.

He looked around. He swore he had heard your voice again. This time it could not have been the wind for no window was open.

"Hwa? What is wrong?" Yunhos voice brought him back from his thoughts as he turned to look at him.

"Y-you did not hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"Nothing." He shakes his head "It was nothing."

"Perhaps you should go and rest?" Yeosang chimed in and the others agreed, nodding their heads.

Seonghwa looked at them before glancing around again, he was sure he heard you but now since none other than him seems to have heard you he wonders if some rest would actually help him.

So he nods and he can see the other's shoulders drop down in relaxation as if they had been expecting him to put up a fight and argue with them about resting.

"Perhaps I should... but I would like to go see them first." He feels stupid, like a child asking for permission to do something when he is the oldest in the coven. He could do whatever he wanted and if that was to go out into the rose garden and visit you then he could without permission.

He stands up before anyone can answer what he has said, he lays the blanket back on the chair before he strides towards another sets of doors which will lead him back to a corridor and down a few flight of stairs before he can enter the garden.

The doors open immediately for him and he makes a point of quietly thanking the castle for opening its doors for him. He remembers the first time he had gone out on his three month journey. When he had come back inconsolable wanting to leave that room to go see you the castle had refused. Refused to open its doors and windows for its master to go wherever he pleased.

Not until he had calmed down and only the silent tears were staining his cheeks had he been allowed out. It was after his brothers had held him close, allowing him to grieve in safety and then being given a cup of blood to drink by Wooyoung to help stabilize himself.

After that the castle had always listened to him. And now he was walking with a sense of purpose, he had to see you again. It always pains him to be away from you for three months when he spends almost every single day around you. Tending to the roses or cleaning the glass casket you lay inside whilst talking quietly to you about his days or how much he misses you.

As he walks out of the door and into the garden he stops in his tracks when he sees something or rather someone walking ahead of him.

You.

He cannot stop himself before he rushes forward and just as he is to grab your hand you vanish.

"No... No no no no no!" He mumbles to himself, now sprinting towards the rose garden, you cannot be gone.

You cannot.

Seonghwa almost trips over the steps leading up to where you lay and he stops at the casket breathing heavily gripping it tightly as he takes you in.

You are still there. Untouched. Just like the way you had been when he had left three months ago.

"My beloved." He whispers and just like that the tears are welling up again in his eyes.

Seonghwa. My love.

Seonghwa gasps as he hears your voice again turning around since he can hear your voice from behind him. He had not expected to actually see you. You are pale, standing there and he notes as he falls down on his knees in shock that you are slightly transparent.

"My beloved. My love." He says while the first tear fall down his pale cheek. His voice is growing thick with emotion and when you look at him with those sad eyes he cannot help himself from crawling up to you trying to take ahold of your hand in his only to realize he is unable to.

"No. Please no. Please." He whimpers looking up at you as the waterworks starts afresh.

You have to let me go.

"No! No no no no please I cannot do that. Please I am sorry I cannot live in a world without you. Please do not leave me." He pleads over and over again trying to take ahold of you but he keeps going through you. His eyes looks almost wild as he tries everything to be able to hold you.

You can see how his heart breaks over and over at not being able to hold you and you know you cannot be visible for much longer.

I love you.

When Seonghwa notices that you are disappearing from his view is when he goes into hysterics. He wails for you to come back to him, he screams in fear, anger and grief and it echos loudly throughout the entire forest. He roars in anger, smashing a statue before breaking down again near the casket. Sobbing over and over again that he is sorry, that he wishes you would come back to him. He asks for death to take him once and for all so he can reunite with you.

He grips his head as he cries, wails and screams in fury and sadness. It is like an explosion he cannot control. Seonghwa is unsure of how much time has passed but he finds that he does not care. All he cares about is that he saw you and he could not hold you one last time like he wished he could. He contemplates for a moment to destroy your casket just so he could hold you in his arms again but he physically cannot make that move.

He cannot destroy your last sleeping place. That would be like spitting on your entire existence if he did, so he finds himself hurting himself and the statues and rose bushes around himself in a fit of anger.

Up in the castle seven figures are looking out of the window from the room they still were in. Hearing Seonghwas wails of agony and grief pained them. It was as if someone was driving a spear into their non-beating heart over and over again.

"I wish I could take away all his pain and suffering. All this grief." Jongho mumbles before leaning close to Hongjoong, hiding his face in the crook of his leaders neck as said man brings an arm around him to bring comfort.

"I never want to find my soulmate... It will only bring even more anguish to him. He will constantly be reminded of his own soulmate who he no longer has. I do not want to make him go through that." San says, tears building up in his eyes.

"You cannot stop it from happening San. Do not deprive yourself of the happiness of finding your soulmate because Seonghwa lost his. That is not something he would want. He would want you to be happy. You know that San." Yunho said whilst giving the younger a sad smile, tears also in his eyes as Seonghwa continues to scream and wail out apologies, curse words and asking for you to come back to him.

"Grief... What is not grief if not love persevering. It is proof of how much he has loved and cherished his beloved. He was just too blind in the moment that he thought he could best death and now all these years later after death won he cannot handle it. Because he has yet to fully accept that they are gone. He has yet to accept that they are gone. It might take years until he gets over the stages of anger, denial, depression and guilt. We will be there to help him through it all. I was thinking of going with him next year so he will not be alone on his journey." Hongjoong says eyes sharply focused on the figure down below.

Eyes slightly widening when he sees something or someone behind his brother before it disappears. He could have sworn it looked like you but he must have been wrong. It was probably the tears in his eyes clouding his vision.

It could not have been you.

You were dead.

Gone.

Forever.

[fortheloveoffanfic]

Broken Chords: The hardest part is who we are.

Hozier x fem!reader

Author's note: okay, so in my mind, Y/N an actress BUT please feel free to imagine her however you like.

Summary: After his concert in New York and a private moment shared in his dressing room, Y/n and Andrew are confronted with the reality of their situation, and one party isn't willing to go on like that.

Warnings: SMUT/NSFW, Angst

Part 1 Part 2

He’s determined that they can never be anything more than whatever they are right now; two people that exist in each other’s orbit without ever truly meeting, wound up in something that hurts too much to be worth it but feels too good to let go of. It's like a blade in a clenched fist, splicing through flesh and grating bone. It's like a full-bodied port in the dead of winter.

Exes with benefits? He knows that its the best term to describe their state of affairs, but it makes Andrew feel so twenty-something.

They’ve unofficially adopted some sort of arrangement that involves ignoring the elephant in the room and enjoying each other's company just enough to get by; since Y/n left Ireland after the wedding – and their tryst at the hotel – they’ve seen each other exactly three times. First, it was two weeks later, when he was in Manchester for a night while she was, then again in Los Angeles when her meeting with a director coincided with his meeting with another songwriter for a collaboration. And now, tonight, in New York. He’d heard from a mutual friend she's going to be home for a few weeks – because after nearly five years of being mixed up with each other, so many of their friends are shared – asked his manager to run her tickets to his show at The Bowery.

And of course, she came.

He spots her when he’s in the middle of one of the new songs, one he wrote about her. Because even if they’re mostly over, she’s usually at the front of his mind when he puts pen to paper. A stray comment on his part has led to word getting around about how most of the upcoming album is about an ex, and now he feels a little guilty about saying that so freely after he struggled to talk about their relationship when they were still in it.

He wonders if she's heard about his little slip up, if she's as mad at him as he is at himself.

She’s standing at the railing guarding the mezzanine and there’s a plastic cup in her hand, he doesn’t even have to be there to know what’s in it. There are probably gonna be pictures tomorrow, paired with speculations, because people have been speculating for years. But he’ll play them off, and so will she. It used to be a point of contention for them; Y/n was growing tired of hiding, so much so that she said it felt like an insult. Things are different now, though;

Tight lips and dodged questions are encouraged, especially by her. It's almost as if she's ashamed, Andrew thinks, and as much as he tries to not take it personally, he can't help the way his heart does an awkward twist when she says something like; "I just don't think anyone should know what we're doing, you know?"

Would being with him again really be that bad? Andrew avoids asking himself that question, because it reminds him of their tiff in the hotel room;

"Would it really be that bad? Being married to me; would it really be that bad?"

He still isn't the marrying type, the prospect of it sickens him the way looking down the barrel of a gun might.

But he is the being with her type.

Ironically, while Y/n has been doing everything to make sure their entanglement stays hidden, he's just started wondering what it would be like if they’d never hid at all. What if everyone knew that she was there because he wanted her there? What if they knew that he was meeting her eyes when he glances at the area above the main floor?

When the set is over and he’s through with humoring the audience for a bit longer, Andrew returns to the backstage area with the intention of seeking her out. He’d asked her to meet him there, but after a quick look around he can’t seem to find her. Even when he asks his manager, a couple of the assistants and some of his bandmates, they all claim to have not seen her recently. There aren't any recent texts or missed calls from Y/n either, and that’s really all it takes for his mind to jump to the worst.

Has she changed her mind on him?

She can’t do that. Well, she can, but if she’s gonna tear his world apart, a warning would have been nice.

Andrew is so defeated by her absence that he halfheartedly dismisses Alex’s offer to have a drink with the rest of the band, mumbling a lie about having a headache just so he can retreat to his dressing room and be alone. He doesn’t even think about why the lights are on when he pushes the door open.

“Well, that took you long enough.”

Andrew jumps when he hears her voice. Y/n is sitting on the chair at the long, barren dressing table. She carelessly sets her phone down as he enters the room, and Andrew shuts the door before responding. “What the fuck, Y/n. I’ve been looking for you, I thought you left.”

“You asked me to stay,” she knits her brows.

“I asked you to meet me backstage,” he corrects.

“This is backstage,” Y/n determines, “besides,” she shrugs, “I thought it would have been weird if I hung around back there. Its…..that’s not what this is,” her voice drops an octave lower, and a pang of guilt stabs at his chest. He knows she doesn’t mean anything malicious by her words, but it does sting.

Andrew crosses the room to stand beside where she's sitting, leaning against the table. “Right,” he licks his lips, “ehm, did you have a good time?”

Y/n grins, “I did,” she takes his hand in both of her smaller ones, stroking his knuckles with her thumbs before starting to absently massage it. For a moment, Andrew almost forgets that they aren’t actually an item anymore; this is exactly what the first few minutes after a show used to look like. “You were fantastic out there….you always are. They love you.”

“I like it more when you love me,” he elicits, raising his free hand to touch the side of her face.

“Andrew,” Y/n sighs, turning away from his touch, “don’t do that.”

“Do what?” He scoffs, suddenly defensive.

“Act like….” A sound of irritation escapes her throat and she shakes her head, “like we’re something.”

“We are something,” he counters, matching her growing frustration.

Y/n doesn’t let his hand go, but her ministrations slow, “not that kind of something.”

Andrew turns his hand over in hers, holding onto one as the other drops to her lap. Gently, he urges her up, and slips his arm around to the small of her back. His fingers toy with the lace of her black blouse and he bends his head a little to search her gaze. “Can we not do this tonight? Please?” He drops his face lower just as she tips her chin a bit higher, and his forehead is almost touching hers.

Y/n’s eyes soften and she reaches up to settle her palm on his shoulder, the roughness of his jacket – the same one he wore in London the night everything started falling apart – letting it linger there for a few seconds before shifting it up to cup the side of his neck. Ther lips lock in an ardent kiss, that starts slow, only growing more impassioned when his fingers curl against her back as he presses her closer. Extracting his hand from hers, Andrew places it on Y/n’s hip so he can switch their positions, easily trapping her between his body and the table.

His hand on her hip slides downwards, skimming the length of her short skirt before he slips it between her thighs. Her skin is soft and warm, and when he brushes the lace of her underwear, Y/n shivers, the quaking breath falling past Andrew’s lips. Suddenly, he isn’t worrying about optics and nursing the ache of something just past them, he’s in the moment, right there. The lingering adrenaline from being on stage just twenty minutes earlier is being harbored by their proximity and the first traces of moisture pooling just over his fingers. Already, he can feel himself responding; the zipper of his jeans feels restricting and his breathing quickens.

It doesn’t matter if he last had her the night before or a month ago, his yearning for her never wavers. Andrew could spend the rest of his life losing himself in her.

Y/n pushes off his denim jacket, and it hits the door with a soft thud that isn’t acknowledged and then flattens her hands on his chest, gently urging him into the chair she'd been sitting in earlier. Clumsily, he stumbles backwards, pulling her into his lap as he falls into the chair.

Hastily, he reaches for her cheek again, large hand dwarfing her face. Some of her hair is caught under his palm, but Andrew doesn’t spend any effort brushing it away. Instead, he cruises his thumb along her ruby stained lips; he loves that colour on her. “You look so beautiful tonight,” he rasps, “I’m glad you came,” he adds.

Her eyes move quickly as they search his, and Y/n cradles his face in her small hands, the prickle of his beard prodding at the soft skin. She furrowed her brows at his words, not quite knowing what to say; she doesn't want to ruin their night but she doesn't want to make things any more confusing than they already are.

If that's even possible.

“I wouldn't rather be anywhere else,” she finds herself saying it without much effort being expended to hold it back. It's the truth; she wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

Andrew looks like he's going to say something else, and she holds her breath for it – but he doesn't. Sliding his hand forward, he threads his fingers through her hair, guiding her face towards his. Under her skirt, Andrew shoves the crotch of her underwear aside and introduces two of his long fingers to her center, curling them slightly.

Stirring her hips, Y/n moans against his lips while gathering fistfuls of his printed t-shirt in a white knuckled grip. His lips are hot on her neck, leaving marks that she’ll have to cover up tomorrow and her head is tilted to the side, allowing him access. When his thumb swirls around her sensitive nub, Y/n gasps and presses her cheek to the top of his head.

“Andy….” She rasps, reaching for the hem of his t-shirt so she can slip her hands under it, cool palm's against the heat of his chest. Eager for more, she grinds against his fingers as he introduces another. “I wanna feel you….” She pleads, nails grazing his skin.

When he finally extracts his fingers in favor of tugging her underwear down her thighs. In a series of clumsy motions, the lacy thing is thrown to the floor and Y/n reaches for the buckle of his belt, hastily undoing it before opening up the button and zipper of his pants. They don’t shove it all the way down, just enough for her to ease herself down on him.

“Fuck sweetheart,” Andrew hisses, fingers digging into her ample hips. With a bruising grip, he guides her into a steady pace. The way she’s wrapped around him is dizzying, and everytime she moans his name, in that breathy way that she does, he swears he inches a little closer to heaven.

She’ll never get over the way he fills her up, they way it feels like they’re two puzzle pieces snapping together. “Andrew….” she croons, half a praise, half a desperate whine. Clutching his t-shirt in one hand and cupping his neck with the other, she tips her forehead against his. Their eyes meet, in the haze of lust blown pupils and tangled lashes and Andrew tips his chin slightly to bring his lips closer to hers, almost touching them but not quite.

“That’s it, honey. You feel so fucking good wrapped around me like this,” he praises through gritted teeth when she quickens the erotic roll of her hips. Every crude compliment is achingly familiar, music that Y/n is so used to hearing that doesn’t think she could ever go without it – the world can have the poet in him, but this is only for her.

His palm journeys up her hip, tracing the contour of her body over the thin lace of her blouse before eventually grabbing her breast, giving the flesh and eager squeeze. There’s something to be said about the way he appreciates her body; as if she were a work of art conjured up just for him.

A loud moan reverberates in the small room when his lips connect with her collar bone, and Y/n’s knees buckle. “Almost there,” Andrew gasps, heady words spilt on her skin, “come on, sweetheart,” he encourages, bucking his hips.

Her breaths are heavy and erratic, and Andrew can feel the pound of her heart against his chest, matching the excited thump of his own. Y/n’s name is like a little prayer on his lips, a mantra, as she finally crashes down. Limbs shaking, words muddled and head thrown back. His lips find her neck again, muffling a strained against her throbbing pulse as he finds his own, euphoric release. His grip on her tightens, holding her as close as possible.

“God,” Y/n heaves, head falling into the crook of his neck. Just then, Andrew’s hold slackens and he envelopes her in a loose embrace. He lolls his cheek against the top of her head and sighs softly as their breathing slowly evens out.

He knows they should probably untangle themselves after a while but holding her like this, it feels like the closest he’s been to home in a damn long time. Even his own house doesn't feel like this anymore – not since she left. And it isn’t just the familiarity of her curves, or the comfort of her voice; its the security of proximity. The way he can feel everything she holds for him coming off her, the way warmth oozes from a fire. She’s safe, she cares.

He doesn’t have to think too hard when they’re together, his mind is empty and quiet – in the best way.

He wants to tell her he misses this, he misses feeling her warmth against him as he falls asleep. Hearing her breathing so close to his ear, the proof that she's real and not just some figment of a weary artist's imagination. He misses the way they'd just lay together after they're spent, her fingers tracing circles over heartbeat, his trailing up and down her back.

The way she'd raise off his chest and use the back of her hand to brush hair away away from his face before leaning down to kiss him.

He's had it with other women – before and after Y/n – but it doesn't come close to the way it feels with her.

Because it's more than the simple pleasure of being with another, it's the great privilege of getting to love her.

“I-”

“Hey, man I – oh, shit,” Alex tugs the door shut faster than he'd pulled it open.

In a series of stumbles and hasty movements, Y/n scampers from his lap, and Andew barely resists the urge to tighten his grip and pull back down onto him.

“Sorry! I didn't know you were…..” Alex trails off, “you said you had a headache and one of the assistants said she saw you go in here.”

Andrew stutters, standing to pull up his jeans while Y/n steals away to the small bathroom to get cleaned up. “Ehm….it's….” He doesn't want to say it's alright, because it would be far from the truth, but its also his fault for not locking the door.

But they shouldn't have been doing that in there anyway. Though, he and Y/n seem to have a knack for doing things they probably shouldn't.

“Gimme fifteen,” Andrew eventually manages. He doesn't catch Alex’s response, he isn't too concerned with it anyway. Andrew is more focused on what Y/n will think, what she'll say. She's been so adamant about keeping things quiet that he isn't sure if the threat of being discovered will be enough to drive her way.

He isn't sure because his Y/n wouldn't have cared; they'd been caught sneaking off way too many times for her to be phased. Hell, if they were still together, Alex wouldn't have even come looking.

But everything's different now – she's different now. She's not his Y/n.

Andrew brings his fist to the door in three short knocks. “I'm sorry,” implores when she doesn't respond, “I didn't mean for that to happen.” He sighs heavily, waiting for her to say something, “I didn't think anyone would come back here.”

And she still doesn't say anything.

Soundlessly, Andrew presses the side of his fist to the door while planting his free hand on the edge of the door frame. “Darlin’,” he breaths, hanging his head, “please come-”

“Don't call me that,” Andrew stumbles forward a little when Y/n unlocks the door and yanks the door open.

Andrew scoffs, pushing his hair out of his face with one sweep of his fingers, when she slips out from under his raised arm, “that's what you open the door for?” Y/n doesn't respond with anything more than a huff and a shake of her head as she collects her phone and purse off the table. “Come on,” he reaches for her arm, “please.”

She sighs, dropping her shoulders. “What?” Y/n turns to face him, lips pressed together and eyes sullen.

“I should've locked the-”

“Its not about that, Andrew,” she glaces away, briefly catching a glimpse of them in the mirror. His long fingers loosely gripping her arm while they stand barely a foot apart. It feels strange seeing herself like that; she's never wanted to put distance between them, ever. Even after she left him, all Y/n ever wanted to do was bridge the oceans between them, wade through whatever had ripped them from each other and find her way back to him.

Its why she opens herself up to him every time they see each other, some of him is better than none at all.

But being caught changes everything; it makes her the girl who keeps going back to a man who won't commit. Pathetic, foolish.

That's what she sees staring back at her.

A silly girl who's lovelorn for a man who keeps telling her - with his own words and his own mouth - that he will never want the same things he does. He will never return the kind of love she has for him.

That girl is staring at her, eyes brimmed with stinging tears, asking her why she's wasting the best years of her life fucking this man in a dressing room. In hotel rooms booked under an alias. In the back of her rental parked near the beach at ten pm.

He is not going to change, and neither is she. But this can end.

“Let's just talk,” Andrew begs, “or, or, come for a drink with us. You're friends with the band –”

“What is this to you?” She glances back at him, watery eyes struggling to keep years worth of heartbreak at bay.

Stunned, Andrew deserts her arm and runs his hand over her hair. “It's…..” the closet thing he has to the best three years of his life. It's the thing that's killing him slowly, whether or not he can admit.

It's a thing so undefined that he isn't sure he has a word for it, but given the alternative, he's willing to trudge on.

Beginning again, Andrew emits a frustrated sigh, “it's….doesn’t it matter. You're the one that doesn't want us to be together – you broke up with me,” his tone hardens. He doesn't want to have the fight against, not when they've finally found some steady footing, no mind it's more of a liferaft than a boat in the middle of a pitch black sea. It's still something, it's all that's keeping him from going under.

“I am not having this conversation again,” she hasn't been shouting, but for some reason her words still sound pained and raw.

“I'm just saying,” Andrew pinches the bridge of his nose, “I was good with the way things were,” he spats, forgoing every thought he'd had on stage earlier, all in the name of self preservation.

“You wouldn't tell people I was your girlfriend–”

“Our friends knew –”

“Just barely,” Y/n scoffs, “you kept telling everyone that we were “seeing where it goes,” it had been three years; what more did you need to see?”

He doesn't have an answer, and, at a loss for words, he just stands there. He wants to say something, slap another bandaid over the still-bleeding bullet hole, but nothing comes. That sort of callousness can't be excused or explained.

Andrew suddenly remembers that his brother once called him a commitment phobe, so maybe those are the words. But a reason still isn't an excuse, it still isn't an apology. It still isn't a hall pass to run someone's heart through a woodchipper.

Y/n stands in front of him, a shell of the woman he'd held in his hungry hands earlier, and Andrew figures he's something of the same. It's all forgotten now; her gentle massaging of his hands – cause she must be the only person he's ever told that they get sore after playing all night. The way her chest melted into his, her breath tickling his collar bone.

It's all gone now, a memory that feels so long past him that he isn't remembering right. Her lips must've been sweeter that he's recalling, she must've felt warmer because there's a chill hanging in the air and he hadn't been cold then.

Those people aren't them – or maybe its the other way around. He can’t get it to make sense in his head, but it doesn’t matter anyway. It doesn’t give him something useful to say; its not going to make her stay.

Surprisingly, Y/n closes the space between them with a couple steps, and she stands on her toes to kiss the corner of his lips. “You don’t have to say anything, Andy,” his heart contracts; why does it feel like the last time she’s calling him that?

Is he going to be Andrew to her from now on; entirely cold and formal? Or is she just never going to say his name?

“But um…..maybe we shouldn’t do this again,” she says, settling on her feet.

“No,” desperately, Andrew takes her hand, “please.”

He isn’t even crawling back this time; this isn’t him crawling back to her. This is him pounding down the door, begging to be let in.

But its closed – locked even.

“Not this time,” already, he misses his name on her tongue. Y/n’s hand slips out of his – centimeter by centimeter – until the barest tips of their fingers are touching. And, more than anything else he’s wanted in a damn long time, he wants to take a step forward and take her hand again.

He wants her to turn around and see the emotion threatening to spill out of his eyes as the world gives out under his feet.

Andrew wants to beg her to stay – but it won’t make a different because the defending sound of the doorknob’s click rattles in his ear as she pulls it shut, and all he’s left with is a cloud of jasmine perfume and a hollowness in his chest as he slumps against the table.

[cstlji]

friday nights || byun baekhyun

1:34 AM 250424 

word count: longer than i expected

pairing: byun baekhyun x reader (ft. im changkyun)

description: baekhyun ignores you for an entire week, and you don't know why.

genre: bestfriends to lovers!au, jealous!baekhyun, mutual pining, angst-ish, fluff after lmao

a/n: kinda rushed ending (?) lmk if you guys want a part 2 or a longer version!

You and Baekhyun have been best friends ever since you both got stood up by your dates on prom night. You vividly remember Baekhyun's reaction as your dates began making out in the middle of the dancefloor, leaving you both partnerless — and almost miserable. So, you invited him that exact moment to ditch the night and have some fun of your own, basically and invitation to sit on the gutter as you eat your melting ice cream.

But, that was a story for another time - now you’re in your third year of college. Your friendship’s been that long, and you swore, the last time you checked, the platonic energy between the both of you was almost tangible. Although you had a moments when romantic thoughts about him invaded your mind.

You swore it were mere milliseconds, though – and that you didn't think about how his hands could perfectly fit in yours and, how sweet his lips would've tasted like. Nothing of that sort, really. You knew that the both of you were awfully platonic, and nothing more. You didn't want to entertain thoughts of you and him together romantically, because it would never happen. Plus, you went out on a date last week.

You and Changkyun were totally hitting it off. And you would've told Baekhyun about him, but he's been ignoring you for the past 5 days. No calls, texts, nothing. Everytime you'd visit him on his breaks, he's always be out, or busy, or just not in the mood — which rarely happened.

So, you planned to corner him into telling you what's wrong. You really had no clue, but you've got a feeling that it had something to do with you. It was your break, and you checked your phone for Baekhyun's schedule. You both exchanged schedules the beginning of the semester, which is also probably why he'd been successful in avoiding you.

There was an overlap between your schedules. His class would end at around the same time as yours would start. But you were really determined to know what the hell's wrong you could just be late to class for a couple of minutes. And after a long, painful wait — catch him, you did.

He walked out with two of his friends, who you knew as Minseok and Jongdae. It was Minseok who spotted you first. He called Baekhyun and pointed at your direction.

"Hey, Y/N." Minseok waved at you, and so did Jongdae. You smiled and waved back as Baekhyun's eyes widened.

"Go on first, I'll catch up later." He told his friends, his eyes avoiding your gaze. The two walked off after saying goodbye.

"What are you doing here?" Baekhyun held your arm, gently pulling you to the side.

"You were avoiding me for a week, what's up?" You asked, eyeing him carefully. He reached to the nape of his neck. He removed his cap, fixed his hair, and put it back again.

"I... wasn't avoiding you," he said, still avoiding your eyes. You weren't convinced, so you pulled his face to meet yours.

"There, see!" you exclaimed, "you avoided my eyes again. What's wrong, Baek?"

"Nothing," he muttered. He glanced down his wristwatch, and urged you to move. "You're literally five minutes late to your class, get moving dumbass."

"No, I'm not leaving 'til you tell me what's wrong. Is it something I said? or did? Or, like, did something happen to your family? Come on, talk to me, don't shut me out like this."

You were honestly nervous, you feared that the friendship you had would be gone in a blink if you didn't do this.

Baekhyun sighed, and met your eyes. You heart dropped to your stomach. It felt different from his usual teasing glints, there were hints of longing. His eyes glossed a little, eyes bloodshot red. You immediately reached to his face, and his eyes closed and he leaned to your touch.

"Baek," you sighed softly, "have you not been sleeping?"

"Mmhm," Baekhyun hummed, hand on top of your hand on his cheek. "Let's...talk later." His eyes met yours this time.

You nodded with a soft, gentle smile. "Of course. Come over later? Let's watch a movie tonight." Your thumb ghosted over his cheek.

"But that's for Friday?"

You swore you saw Baekhyun frown a little from the loss of touch as you retreat your hand from his cheek, but you decided you were just crazy and that it wasn't like that.

You shrug, hands on your pocket. "We could do it like, two days earlier, it's fine."

"Why? So you could ditch on me and go on a date again?" He blurted out.

You audibly gasp, earning stares from passerbys. Your hand flew to your open mouth. "What do you mean? I didn't ditch you, I asked you if it was okay and you said yes!"

"I didn't!"

"You did! I even have the text messages here if you need refreshments, dude."

"Don't dude me, Y/N," Baekhyun groaned, rubbing his face roughly. It was an a look of frustration, and you felt it was directed to you.

"Is this why you're mad at me? Because you thought I ditched you?" Your voice slightly trembled. Now you were frustrated and confused.

"No!" he abruptly said, "No, I'm - I'm not mad at you, I just, Friday nights are for us," You internally winced, because you took that in way that isn't how friends should take it as.

"And you — "

"Baekhyun-ah!" You both looked at the direction of the voice. It was Junmyeon who called out with a smile as he approached you. "Oh hey, Y/N, what's up?"

You smiled and tried to push the argument you just had at the back of your mind. "Hi, oppa."

Baekhyun sighed, "What's wrong, hyung?"

"I couldn't find Chanyeol, he told me he'd be with you." Junmyeon's lips parted a lottle, "Did I interrupt you guys?"

"Yeah, we're kinda bu—" You interrupted Baekhyun.

"We just finished talking, oppa," you glance at your watch to avoid Baekhyun's intense gaze. "I have to get to class, I'm suuuper late. See you later!" You waved Junmyeon goodbye, and turned away quickly.

You hear Baekhyun call to you as the distance grew farther. You didn't want to lose Baekhyun over a fight like this, especially when you thought of him in a different light yet again.

~ • ~

Baekhyun's heart broke a little as he looked at you walk away. He let out a heavy sigh as he massaged his eyebrows.

Junmyeon noticed. "Are you good?"

Baekhyun looked up at him and nodded yes. Junmyeon was not convinced though, but he decided not to push it. "Come on, let's meet them."

Baekhyun stayed silent. He moved on autopilot, basically just following Junmyeon's footsteps — but not before looking back to the place you once stood at.

The guys laughed loudly in the middle of the restaurant. Baekhyun and Junmyeon settled down, "Did you get food already?" asked Junmyeon.

"We ordered pasta and pizza, you could order more if you want to, though," Minseok said. "It's Jongdae's treat for missing the last get together."

"Nice."

The guys continued to talk, and joke around. Food kept arriving at their table, and everyone dug in except Baekhyun. He was staring at nothing, just picking on his food with a fork.

"Hyung, are you okay?" Jongin nudged Baekhyun. He looked up, and forced a smile.

"Yeah, of course." There was a moment of silence before Chanyeol broke the ice.

"You guys remember Changkyun?” He asked. Baekhyun’s ears perked up, the name was familiar. Too familiar, in fact. His eyebrows knitted tightly, he couldn’t help it.

“What about him?” Sehun popped a fry in his mouth. Lay tilted his head slightly.

“He’s throwing a party tonight, he invited us.”

“What’s his business inviting us? We don’t even know him,” Baekhyun bitterly spat and did not go unnoticed by his friends.

Chanyeol and Junmyeon exchanged glances with Kyungsoo, who sighed and said, “We can just not go, it’s not a big deal.”

Baekhyun just drew a big sigh and ruffled his hair. To say he was pissed was an understatement. He’d been so bothered about you dating other guys, and he hated the fact that he couldn’t even tell it to you directly.

After all, you both agreed on staying strictly platonic after having witnessed your sister and her then bestfriend get married and divorced on the same year.

“What’s with you, Hyung? You rarely act this way,” Jongin asked, eyes full of concern.

Sehun snickered, “He always acts this way whenever a certain someone’s involved.”

Minseok hummed in agreement. Baekhyun groaned as Kyungsoo spoke, “You mean Y/N?”

“Precisely,” Sehun confirmed with a smirk.

“Aren’t you strictly platonic?” Jongdae asked.

“Yes.” Sadly.

“Huh, so why are you jealous?” Kyungsoo asked.

“I am not jealous.” Lie.

“You definitely are.”

“I’m not.” Yes, he was.

“You like her, don’t you?”

“What?” Yes.

“You do!”

“What are you even —“

“Someone’s got a crush —!”

“I—“

“Just admit it, Hyung!”

“N —“

“Baekhyun —“

“I love her, damn it!”

Silence filled the table. Everyone suddenly laughed out loud after his outburst — they knew you got Baekhyun fucked up in the head and they love to see it.

Now, Baekhyun’s admitted it and there was no going back. He had avoided saying it for the longest time for the fear of it “coming true” when he knew that he had no say in his feelings from the get-go.

“Just tell her, confess, do something,” Kyungsoo said.

“That’s easier said than done.”

“Would you rather lose her to Changkyun?” Lay suddenly spoke up. Baekhyun looked at him, and he knew his hyung made a point. He had to do something.

~ • ~

Time went by fast, and it's been two days since you last saw Baekhyun. Still, no calls nor texts from Baekhyun. You were beginning to doubt your decision of avoiding the conversation — you start to think that you should've let him finish talking before walking out like that.

Is he gonna drop by tonight? It's literally friday, its — its your movie night. Or is he never gonna talk to you, and you end up losing the love of your life?

Wait, no. He's your bestfriend, so you love him, right? Its that kind of love that's purely platonic, isn't it? Plus, you had a date! And you totally hit it off, you swore to god.

Okay, maybe you lied. You and Changkyun were bonding over relationship traumas instead of building up a new relationship. You both had a cup of sweet tea, but the conversations you had left a bitter taste in both your mouths.

Changkyun also mentioned someone he liked, and was in fact, asking for advice. That's why you both set another date for tomorrow, solely for the sake of advices. Besides, you also enjoyed complaining to him about Baekhyun's annoying habits that you secretly liked.

You then pace back and forth, probably hyperventilating and on the verge of another panic attack. You bite on your nails as you watched a late night game show, or atleast tried to watch.

You couldn't focus on it. You sat down, your knees bounced up and down. So you stood, but you kept pacing back and forth. And you'd look at the television, but would later find yourself starting at the clock. You were so immersed that you failed to notice the numerous missed phone calls.

Until the door bell rang. You sprinted towards the door, opened it in one motion.

And there he was, holding a bouquet of roses. He offered a sheepish smile, and offered up the bouquet.

You didn't even realize you've been holding your breath 'til you saw him on your doorstep. You immediately engulfed him with a hug, your tears threatening to spill.

He hugged you back as he buried his face at the crook of your neck. You missed his scent, so much.

You pulled away, "I - I thought you wouldn't — "

He cut you off, "Don't go."

You look at him, confused. You wipe your tear-stained cheeks, settling your hands on his biceps. "What? What do you mean?"

"On that date," he said, eyes intensely on yours. "Don't go on that date, please."

"Well, that's for tomorrow still, I —"

"No, you don't understand. I," Baekhyun took a deep breath. "I don't just mean tonight. I mean, don't ever go on a date with another man. Please."

You were speechless as you watched Baekhyun frown in thought, trying to compose what he wanted to say.

“I,” he paused. He looked his shoes, and licked his lips in anticipation. “I get livid when I think of another man touching you, or holding your hands, and the mere thought of you kissing someone else makes me go insane, you have no idea.

“My heart races when our fingers touch, and I can’t help but want to kiss you when you do something childish. Or when you cry because of a stupid movie — I want to grow old with you, sit under a tree and watch as our children run across the fields. I — I love you. For the longest time, I’ve loved you. I love you, Y/N.”

You were speechless and shaking. Here was the man you longed for, confessing his love to you — and you couldn’t believe it. Your jaw drops, and he looked at you with great intent.

“I love you, too,” you said, tears rolling down your cheeks. “You dumb idiot, what took you so long? I kept it all in, I waited for you for so long! I —“

He captured your lips with his in the softest way possible. A moment lingers as he pulled away,

“I’m sorry for making you wait, Y/N. I —“

You pull him back in, deepening the kiss as you hook your arms around his neck — bodies flushed against each other. He dropped the bouquet, and put his hands on your hips, pulling you closer to him.

“Shut up and kiss me, baby.” You said in between breaths and kisses.