#life more miserable. so i end up shutting my mouth

[purring-tiefling]

mgfdfgjpiopph hbh

[divinesolas]

deepest desires

summary: Though you have been married to aegon for a while now it seems he wants nothing to do with you and you worry you will spend the rest of your life miserable; but he ends up finding out a secret you've tried so hard to keep hidden and it brings you two together much to your surprise and delight.

w.c: 2.1k

c.w: sub!aegon, porn with plot, pegging, wooden strap, dom!reader, mommy kink, pathetic aegon, slight overstim, anal stuff, not proofread

a.n: dedicated to my lovelie @aegonswife | i will never shut up about the sub aegon agenda !!

You must have been horrible in your past life for the gods to curse you like this. To be married to a prince should be a wonderful thing yet you feel as though you have been sentenced to death.

You can recount on your hands how many words he’s spoken to you despite your many many many many, many, attempts to get him to converse with you. He will not even glance at you most of the time, well kept to his drinks and his whores. You suppose its a better fate than most at least it seemed he would not force himself upon you or abuse you.

Your wedding is a blur and your wedding night is the same, you remember him swiftly leaving after he released and you remember simply lying there and trying to fall asleep.

It took you awhile to officially move in with him as you stuff got stuck on way to the keep and you just so happened to be out the day it finally arrived at the keep so you had the maids bring your stuff into the room in your stead.

As he’s typically out all day and you did not expect him to be in the room while they were unpacking as it is mid afternoon you walk into the room and are shocked to see him standing in front of one of your opened crates with something you prayed he would never see in his hands.

You’ve always had very, different, cravings and lusts. When women would confess their sinful thoughts you realized you were the odd girl out. Many women wanted to get pinned down by their man and be taken in whatever way he pleased but you had always wanted the opposite. To be the one taking, to pin someone down and having a dick of your own forcefully shoving it into their hole.

When you discovered they had invented such a device that could give you the illusion of you having a cock you immediately used your allowance to track one down and purchase it for yourself. Thought you have never used the things you are now wishing you have never bought it has he clutches it in his hands and tilts his head at you, a look you’ve never seen in his eyes.

“This yours?”

You must look like a fish, opening and closing your mouth unsure of what you’re supposed to say. So you say nothing, instead choosing to run out the room like a madman and do not return until very very very late at night and are shocked to see him asleep in your shared bed. He barely even spent five minutes alone in your shared chambers let alone sleep in there. You quietly lay down next to him and fall asleep, praying he would not be there in the morning.

You had hoped that would be that and you would never have to speak to him again but he continues to follow you around like a lost puppy. Tailing behind you everywhere, your lessons, when you spend time in the garden, even your personal time in the shared room he is laying next to you as you read. The sudden change in his behavior is so jarring you cannot help but ask him about it but he just smiles at you, “You are much different than i thought you to be.” You have no clue what that means.

You grow a sort of, friendly? relationship with one another. You are still too nervous to truly say anything to him while he merely seems content laying besides you.

Everything sort of flips on its head when you are laying on the bed, a book in your lap as usual and the door opens. You are not shocked to see a clearly drunk aegon but are more than shocked when he flops down onto the bed and presses his head to your stomach as he lets out a groan.

“My prince?” he merely hums, “My head hurts.” “Maybe you should try and sleep my prince-” “when are you going to fuck me?”

This has you frozen and he looks up at you with his red eyes. “I’ve been so good why haven’t you?” Your mouth opens in shock as he flops his head back down and presses some wet, open mouthed kisses into the fabric of your nightgown. You stutter and are at a loss for words. He wanted you to fuck him?

“My prince if you wish to perform your marital duties you are free to at any time.” He whines and shakes his head, looking up at you with a pout. “No i want you to fuck me. I’ve been good i promise, i havent gone to any brothels, not since that day mommy i promise.” MOMMY? you liked being called mommy in his whiny voice a bit too much and you simply stare at the top of his head for awhile as you try to think of what to say.

“You still come home drunk.” He looks up at you and you merely blink at him. You are more than sure he will not remember this tomorrow so you will merely say what you need to to get him to stop talking about this. “And you reek of alcohol.”

“If i stop drinking and i stop coming home drunk you will fuck me?” “yes.” You are more than glad he will not remember this in the morning. He rolls off of you and to his side of the bed, his back turned to you. “What are you doing?” “Going to sleep so i can start my vow of sobriety.”

His snores quickly fill the room and you blow out the candle next to you and get under the sheets, staring at the darkness with a racing heart. He does not mean it, he will forget about this tomorrow and this will all be a terrible dream.

You are shocked as you wake up the next day and he is stilly lying in bed, merely staring at the ceiling until you flip the covers off and move to get out of bed, “Good morning.” “Morning.” You barely look at him as you move to get dressed for the day. Rummaging through the closet until you pull out a dress and hang it on your mirror. You look at him through the mirror, “Are you going to watch me get undressed?” “It is wrong to?”

You say nothing but simply stare at him until you slowly move the straps of your dress and your nightgowns falls to the floor and you are completely bare.

“So how long must i be sober? A day? a week? a month?” You freeze and turn your head back to look at him.

“what are you talking about-” “were you the one who had been drunk last night wife? must i remind you of what we had discussed?”

You bring the dress you had meant to wear today closer to your chest to cover yourself as you feel a sense of shame wash over you. “If you wish to mock me so then do it.” His head tilts at you as you stare down at the ground. “why would i wish to mock you?

“asking me to fuck you after you had found that horrid device you must mean to mock me…” He quickly stand and you back up until you hit the mirror and he is standing in front of you. “I do not mean to mock you. I had avoided you in the past because i had been under the impression you were just like every other lady at the court but i know now you were made for me, we were made to be together. I have wished to have a lady like you, to fill my wildest desires, i wish for you to do anything you wish. To rule body and use me like a toy. To fuck me like i am nothing but a whore on silk street.”

You stare at him with wide eyes as he drops to his knees and looks at you like you are a goddess. “I was born to serve you. I am at you every whim and every wish.”

You feel something overcome you as he stares up and you and you lose every ounce of self control you have.

“Stand.” He quickly stands up and stares at you eagerly noticing the new look in your eyes.

“Strip.”

He rushes to rip off his shirt and pants and awaits your instructions. You snap your fingers and point to the bed where he quickly moves to sit down on it. You walk over to him and grab his chin to tilt his head upwards. “You want mommy to take care of you?” He lets out a long whine as he nods his head feverishly.

“lay on your stomach.” he follows your instructions without complaining like a loyal mutt. He has no clue what youre doing but he can hear you rummaging around the room, your bare feet peddling against the ground for a few moments and he finds himself unable to lay still, wiggling and whimpering to himself as he grows impatient, on of his hands even begins to slide down to stroke himself before you slap his ass and he moans. “Thought you were a good boy huh? what happened to him?”

“no no i am i am i promise im sorry im sorry.” You slap him again, “I dont wanna hear it.” He continues to mumble and whimper until he feels you shove two oiled inside him and he lets out a high pitched noise and bites the pillow he’s pressing his head against.

“Loose. you're such a fucking whore, look at you.” He doesn’t not respond not that you expected him too but he gets louder and louder the more and more you continue to thrust your fingers in and out of him, reeling in the feeling of you presses kisses against his back and the way your free hand wraps around his cock and toys around with his tip.

“look at you, so fucking pathetic. I bet youve been dreaming of this for months huh, sick freak.” He babbles like a baby unable to form any words or any thoughts the closer he gets, precum pouring out of his tip that you use to pump him slowly. He is so close he can taste it, what hes been craving for so long, he wants it so bad he wants to please you.

Yet you pull away right as hes on the brink and he can barely control himself. Tears begin to spring from his eyes and be turns his head towards you, whimpering. “please.” “you’ll take what i give you.” “but mommy-“ “who said you can talk back?”

He sniffles, “im sorry mommy im sorry please i just wanna be good for you mommy.” his words are slurred and you cant help but feel your heart ache slightly and you grab his cheek, rubbing away his tears with his thumb, “you good?”

He nods, and leans against your cheek sniffles again. “I just wanna be good for you mommy.” You nod and press a kiss against his lips and when you pull away he chases after you lightly as he looks at you with glowing eyes. “You’re so pretty baby, such a good boy, mommys gonna take care of you okay?” “yes yes please please.”

He lets out a gasp as he feels your wooden strap begin to slowly push its way into his pulsing hole. You barely give him anytime to adjust before you begin to vigorously thrust in and out of him. Gripping onto his hair for stability.

The tears begin to pour down his face as he grabs his cock with his free hand, bringing himself closer to release as his hips move back to meet yours. You find yourself unable to hide your amusement as he grows more and more desperate, heaving and whining the closer and closer he gets to release, letting out incoherent babbles of nonsense.

When he releases he lets out a scream that your sure the whole keep could hear, his body shaking as his seed spills out onto the bedsheets below him, sobs racking his body. You press a long kiss against his lips and he shakily returns it. When you had thought you would be doomed to a life of misery it appears you were wrong as your life just got a whole lot more interesting.

[ellecdc]

✋🏻 i have a request

so i’m a loudmouth, a D1 yapper if you will. could you maybe please write something with a yapper reader who just gets quiet and flustered in regulus’s presence?

like she’ll be going on about the randomest thing and regulus walks by and her mouth snaps shut and her face gets bright red.

hiiiii! I decided to pair this with two anonymous requests for our dear reggie too! prompt 2: I was thinking maybe a Potter! Reader who is in the same year as Regulus and has a huge crush on him, she just kind of watches him from a distance, here comes James and Sirius noticing and they try to set her up with Reggie prompt 3: I was wondering if I could get a regulus x reader where regulus is like close to the marauders and then Reggie gains like a crush on reader and the marauders find out and like kinda spy on them but like not well and maybe it ends in Reggie asking reader out

Regulus Black x Potter!reader who has a 'big fat crush' on Reggie

CW: sibling squabbles, this was hard for me to write for some reason so I'm sorry if it reads awkwardly!

“I’m just saying, if you didn’t want your essay to go up in flames, maybe you should have spent less time talking about which of your classmates were ‘filthy blood traitors’, and more time making sure I couldn’t point my wand at your parchment, you know?” You asked rhetorically as James and Sirius roared with laughter. 

“How far along was he in his essay?” Peter asked with a low chuckle before taking another bite of his lunch.

“Oh, he was done. He probably should have handed it in instead of running his mouth.” You said with a proud smirk as your brother roughly patted you on the back, letting out another bark of laughter. 

“I would have paid good money to see the look on his face.” Sirius said as he wiped fake tears away from under his eyes. 

“Find me a pensieve, Black, and I’ll show you.” You offered with a wink before remembering something.  “Oh! James, I meant to tell you; I heard from Janey who heard from Cromwell who heard from Collins whose sister works at Honeydukes that they’re having a sale on those caramel sugar quills that-”

“-Lily likes so much!” James finished for you. “My hero! Thank you!” He said as he pressed a sloppy kiss to the side of your head.

You feigned disgust and rubbed it off before continuing. “If you want, I can ask Janey to ask Cromwell to ask Collins to ask his sister to put some aside for you?”

“I’d owe you my life.” He responded solemnly. 

“Chocolate frogs will suffice.” 

“Consider it done.” 

“I’d like chocolate frogs too, Prongs.” Remus offered then.

“What have you done to help me win over the girl of my dreams, Moony?” James countered. 

“I’ve not told her about the time you screamed like an ickle little first year when you found Fenwick’s toad in your shoe.” Remus replied plainly.

“Why do they have to have warts!?” James groaned miserably as he remembered his toad assault. 

“The bumps aren’t actually warts, Jamie; they’re glands. They contain a toxin that they will secrete if they feel threatened.” You explained.

James blinked at you owlishly before shaking his head in disgust. “That doesn’t make me feel any better.” 

“Hello, Sirius.” Regulus’ voice interrupted then, standing stiffly behind Sirius as he looked around the group of you. “Lupin, Pettigrew…Potter’s.” 

“‘Sup, Reggie?” Sirius responded easily.

“‘Lo, baby Black! What brings you to the red side of the Great Hall?” James asked then, earning him a glare from the younger Black brother.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Well that just makes me want to call you that even more.” James admitted.

“What brings you to the Gryffindor table?” Remus repeated with a knowing smirk.

“Can’t I just come say hello to my brother?” He asked defensively. 

“You could, but would you?” Sirius asked sceptically then.

Sirius and Regulus stared at each other in silence before Regulus finally sighed. 

“Potter, erm… Y/N, I was wondering if you’ve finished Professor Sprout’s essay about the proper propagation of venomous tentacula’s?” 

At the following silence, James turned to notice you staring at Regulus in what appeared to be abject horror before you slowly nodded your head. 

“How, uhm… how many feet of parchment did it end up being?” Regulus continued awkwardly; his eyes flitting between you and his brother. 

The group watched as you opened your mouth a few times only to close it again - not unlike some socially awkward fish - before clearing your throat. 

“Erm…I think it’s about four feet.”

Regulus seemed relieved by your answer and nodded in understanding. “Good, mine is about that as well.”

James looked between his friends, his sister, and his best friend’s little brother after a few moments when it became clear that no one was going to say anything else.

“Was…was that all, Regulus?” Peter asked then, clearly agreeing with James that lunch had quickly become painfully awkward. 

Regulus seemed to look at you first, only responding when you kept your gaze down at the wood grain of the table. 

“I suppose so. I’ll see you lot around.” 

And with that, the Slytherin boy hurried back to his side of the Great Hall.

James’ eyes only left Regulus’ form when he heard a miserable groan escape your lips as you let your head fall to the table with a thunk.

“What the fuck was that?” Sirius and James questioned at the same time.

“I’ve gotta go.” You muttered miserably as you gathered your bag and stood from the Gryffindor bench.

“Where?!” James called after you. 

“To run away with the fucking centaurs at this point!” You called back before disappearing through the doors. 

“Since when does Regulus come to say hi to you, Pads?” Peter asked then, still watching Regulus from across the hall who now had his eyes glued to the door. 

Sirius, who up until that point looked just as bemused as Peter did, had a look of understanding dawn on his face. 

“Merlin’s beard.” He hissed as he smacked James in the arm from across the table.

“Ow! What? What? Why are you hitting me?” James called as he rubbed his arm protectively. 

“When was the last time you saw Y/N be reduced to awkward silence?” He asked then.

“At mum and dads fundraising gala when that wizard from Witch Weekly attended.” James answered quickly; knowing that one of his sister’s greatest strengths was her ability to talk (especially when it helped get them all out of trouble). “Though she’s been doing it an awful lot lately.”

“Like when you coerced Regulus into joining us at the Three Broomsticks last weekend.” Remus offered.

James nodded. “And when I made her come with me to scout the Ravenclaw vs. Slytherin game last Monday.” 

“And when Regulus just happened to be looking for a Herbology textbook when she was studying in the Herbology section of the library.” Remus continued.

“Godric’s balls.” Peter breathed out, looking towards Sirius incredulously. “You’re not suggesting-”

“-that our littlest Potter has a big fat crush on the littlest Black? I sure am.” Sirius said smugly. 

“I don’t think she’s the only one with a ‘big fat crush’.” Remus added, nodding towards Regulus who was chewing aggressively on his lip, still looking in the direction you just went.

“Oh my Godric.” James hissed as he turned towards Sirius excitedly. “Oh my Godric, Pads! We’d be real life actual brother’s-in-law!” 

“I’m going to walk Reggie down the aisle.” Sirius added wistfully as he clutched at his chest. 

“Merlin and Morgana. They can’t even make it through a sodding conversation; stop planning their wedding.” Remus muttered as he turned a page in his book. 

James let out an incredibly dramatic gasp as he looked at Remus. “You’re right. We have to do something!” 

“What do you say, boys? Up for some mischief for the greater good?” Sirius asked with a perfectly arched eyebrow. 

“Operation turn Potter Black!” James cheered to the group, causing the three boys to look at him in various levels of bemusement and discomfort.

“Erm, Prongs…” Peter started.

“Absolutely fucking not.” Remus added.

“We can’t call it that.” Sirius agreed. 

“We’ll circle back to it.” James said as he stood from the table.

Sirius shared a slightly panicked look with the other two Marauders before standing as well. “No…no James, we really can’t call it that.” 

“It’ll be a placeholder until you guys think of something better!”

“Anything would be better.” Peter whined as they all trailed out of the Great Hall in the name of mischief. 

。.。:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:。.。:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:。.。.。:+*ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:。.。:+*ﾟ

“Quick! You’ve got to see what we’ve planned.” James had said to you as he grabbed you roughly by your arm outside of Transfiguration and hauled you in the direction of the library.

You allowed him to nearly drag you through the courtyard and into the central haul; apologising to students that you nearly collided with in his haste. 

“But…what did McLaggen do? Why are you pranking him?” You asked breathlessly as the two of you made it to the library doors.

“The bloke’s a prick, Trouble, do keep up.” Sirius called as you met up with him. 

The two boys ushered you through stacks of books towards the end of the library that held private study rooms when Remus and Peter materialised from a row of shelves.

“He’s coming!” Peter squeaked as Remus quickly redirected the three of you. 

“That way, quickly.” 

Knowing better than to question Remus, you allowed James to guide you by the shoulder towards one of the private study rooms in order to hide from McLaggen as he walked into their trap. 

Except…

Except no sooner had Sirius opened the door did James bodily shove you into the room before they slammed the door behind you.

“Wha- James!” You shouted as you heard him cast a locking charm and a muffliato around the door. 

“What are they up to now?” A tired voice sounded from behind you.

You squeezed your eyes shut as you realised what they had done, praying to every deity that the voice didn’t belong who you thought it belonged to. 

But of course, the deities didn’t give a bowtruckles arse about you, so you turned on the spot to see Regulus Black sitting at the end of the table looking at you with a sceptical expression and one perfectly arched brow. 

Godric, he was beautiful.

“Making my life hell.” You answered despondently. 

Regulus offered you a tight lipped smile as he nodded in understanding. “Ah, so, regular brother stuff then?”

You breathed out a chuckle as you nodded, trying once more at the door before giving up in your efforts to escape. 

“What did you do to get yourself locked in a room with me?” He asked then, fiddling with the tomes and notes in front of him.

“Had the audacity to be born into the Potter family, I guess.” You muttered.

Regulus made a non-committal sound as he considered you. “I’m sure a lot of people would have loved the honour.”

Your face softened as you looked at the Slytherin boy. “I know they’ve asked you already, but you should come, you know? I know Sirius would love it if you did, and my parents would too.” 

Regulus nodded slowly at you, though he never moved his gaze from your eyes. “I wouldn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.”

“Uncomfortable?”

Regulus smiled ruefully then. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t get the impression that you like me very much.”

You stood there with your mouth agape like some mute opera singer. “Okay, I’ll correct you then; you’re very wrong Regulus Black.”

“Oh, I’m very wrong, am I?” 

“Horribly so, I’m afraid; I can’t believe you’d even say such a thing.” You continued haughtily; finally sitting down in a chair across from him. 

“Well, you see, everyone is always telling me how much of a chatterbox you are, yet you never seem too keen on chatting with me. In fact, I’m pretty sure you’ve exchanged more words with Mulciber at this point.” He teased.

“The most I ever talk to Mulciber is to tell him to go fuck himself!”

A divot formed between his brows as he tilted his head in confusion. “Is that not just your love language? I’ve heard you say the exact same thing to Potter and my brother.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him as you leaned back in your chair. “Touche” 

Regulus smirked at you then. “So, why don’t you talk to me?”

You let out a heaving sigh and looked to the ceiling. 

You were trapped, and you knew why you were trapped, and you figured there was no use in pretending that you didn’t. 

“I suppose I find you a little…nerve wracking.” You settled for, figuring that telling him you thought he was so handsome that even standing within his vicinity seemed to short circuit not only your brain but somehow your entire nervous system would perhaps be a little much. 

“Oh good.” He responded, sounding truly relieved by your answer. “I thought it was only me.”

What? You thought stupidly.

“What?” You asked stupidly. 

“I find you a little nerve wracking too.” He responded.

“Me?” 

“You.”

“Why?” You nearly shrilled before remembering yourself and feeling immediately embarrassed for your theatrics.

“Well, I suppose for the same reasons you find me nerve wracking?” Regulus offered. “You’re really quite pretty, Y/N.” 

You swear to all of the gods that your brain made an audible record scratch sound at that moment as you tried to compute what he had said to you. 

He called you pretty, that much went without interpretation. But did he just insinuate that he knew you thought he was pretty?

“You do know that, right?” He asked, shaking you from your internal spiralling. 

“Know what?”

Regulus smirked then. “That you’re pretty?”

You scoffed and crossed your arms petulantly. “Of course I knew that; I just wasn’t aware that you did, too.” 

“Ah,” He started with a smile. “My apologies, I’ll make it more obvious that I find you attractive going forward.”

“Thank you.” You huffed.

“You’re very welcome.”

The two of you allowed a semi-comfortable silence to lap as he continued watching you and you continued looking anywhere else but him.

“So,” He interrupted eventually. “What now?” 

You tapped your arms in thought. “Now I figure out how to get back at my meddlesome brother.” 

Regulus hummed as he nodded his head. “I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

“Yeah…hey, do you happen to know where I could find a toad or two?”

“Yes, actually. I’m quite certain Evan and Barty are breeding some in the dungeons.” He answered with a look of ill-hidden discomfort at the thought.

“Do you think they’d let me borrow some?”

“Well that depends; would they be used for chaos and/or destruction?”

“Yes.” You responded quickly.

“Oh, well then absolutely.” He quipped back.

He smiled and held your gaze before leaning on his arms against the table. “How about this? I’ll ask Barty and Evan for some of their toads, if you go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend.”

You narrowed your eyes as you pretended to think about it before extending your hand across the table. “Deal.”

He shook your hand as he offered you a crooked smile before leaning back into his seat.

The door popped open just enough for your brother to poke his traitorous head in. “Are you guys in love yet?”

He barely had time to pull his head out of the frame and shut the door as you hurled your book bag at him; the blunt force instrument you had hoped would at the very least incapacitate your brother simply thudding against the wall before falling to the ground in a sad heap.

“You know he’s just going to keep you locked in here longer for that, right?” Regulus asked you then.

You made a non-committal sound as you settled back into your chair. “Perhaps that isn't such a bad thing.”

[qlossytbh]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐞 - 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐛𝐚𝐮!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 you get your period. that’s the synopsis.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 fem!reader, mentions of lots of period pain, cramps, nausea, fatigue..etc, mutual pining, idiots in love. pretty much just fluff tbh

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 1.2k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 guess who just got their period!!!!!

𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

An involuntary groan left your lips, elbows perched against your desk and head falling weakly into the palms of your hands. Your forehead was shining a thin layer of sweat, breath short and jagged.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to alleviate the gut-wrenching pain that was pulsating throughout your lower abdomen. Your body felt weak, shaking slightly due to the pain.

This time of the month was the devil's way of making you pay for something you had done in a past life— although you couldn’t think of anything that would bring you anywhere near deserving of this monstrosity.

Penelope eyed you curiously, stopping midway on her trail back to her own little bat cave, as you liked to call it. It would take an idiot not to see how clearly in pain you were.

“Hello my sweet love,” She walked up to your desk, heels clinking against the floor. “You okay?”

You gave your friend a side glance, lacking the vast amounts of energy you needed to dismiss her concerned gaze.

“Just great Pen,” You gritted, teeth clamping together as one more wave of cramps shot through your body. Your cramps came in waves and right now you were trying to recompose yourself from one of said waves. You were failing miserably at the staying cool and collected persona.

Penelope's face fell, mouth curving into a small ‘o’ of understanding. “Oh..”

You slumped over your desk, resting your forehead on the cool surface as your arms snaked around your lower body. She rested a hand on your back and rubbed soft, soothing circles. “That time of the month?”

“Does everyone have such a hard time with cramps?” You groaned from your position on your desk.

“Some people do,” She whispered, voice hesitant. “I had a friend that had to go to the hospital once because of how bad her cramps were and they told her that she—“

You whined, curving your spine impossibly further as an attempt to sooth something, anything. Maybe if you curled up further into a ball it’d hurt less. Penelope could tell she wasn’t helping “Sorry! I thought I was helping with the—“

You were on the latter end of society that suffered period cramps immensely. Back pain, nausea— all of it. It made it impossible for you to come to work the week of your period, but hey, here you were pulling through.

Lucky for you, today had been paperwork day, meaning skimping through countless files was easier than having to run around chasing a serial killer while your uterus was being ripped to pieces.

Soon enough the bullpen's glass doors pulled open and in spilled the rest of the team, Emily chatting along with JJ, Spencer alongside a very enthusiastic Derek and so on.

Penelope continued to rub your back even when you lifted your head and let your chin settle on the desk with a pout that looked as clear as day. Anyone in this building could walk by and notice your clear discomfort— Spencer was no different.

He placed a hand on the back of your chair, ducking down to get a better look at your pitiful state. “Hey,”

“Hi,” You grumbled.

“Should I ask?” Spencer pulled a chair out from the desk beside yours and sat by your side, letting his hands fall in his own lap as he looked up at Penelope.

“I tried helping,” Penelope muttered out. “I get skittish when I don’t know how to help, or what to do and I do this thing with words and—“

You turned your head, laying it flat on its side on your cold desk to get a look at him— a proper one. Your eyes bored more than a million ways to say you were exhausted, and he immediately caught what was up. He always did.

“Doesn’t the fact that I look like a dying corpse give it away?” You complained, face smushed onto the desk

He smiled back. “You don’t look like a dying corpse,”

You blushed. “An already dead one then,”

He shook his head with a huff that left his nose. He scratched at his chin before muttering. “You were a little snappish and grouchy last week,”

Penelope visibly shrinked, thinking Spencer may have just pinched a nerve. “I’m gonna go get you a nice warm coffee, ok?”

It was all she needed to walk away in a hurried movement of heel clicks. You narrowed your eyes at him. Was he insinuating that you had been an utter pain in the ass last week because you were about to get your period?

Noticing this, he half-panicked before quickly jumping into his own defense. “You— uh, I often notice that you get like that the week before which it’s mainly attributed to hormonal fluctuations, particularly changes in estrogen and progesterone levels. They— These hormones can affect neurotransmitters like serotonin and GABA, which regulate mood and emotions.”

“I wasn’t that snappish and grouchy last week,” You knew you had been, because you always were the week before the devil decided to test your limits. You just didn’t really think anyone noticed.

But he did, he always did. And the fact that he did notice was doing funny things to your brain.

He smiled at you. Very softly and almost humorously. “Here—“

You perched up, watching as he reached into his satchel and pushed around in search of— well, something. He pulled out a bag and plopped in on the desk.

You reached over and grabbed the crumpled white paper bag “—I uh, you mentioned wanting a bag of swedish candy a few days ago, especially the sour ones, and me and Morgan walked by a shop and yeah— I figured why not get you some,”

He was doing that very expressive thing he did with his hands where he flared them around as he talked, but you just stared at the bag and then looked up at him.

The pink tint on his cheeks was evident as he avoided eye contact with you. Your shoulders slumped down, bag laying flat in your lap, while trying so hard to keep the tears from coming out of your eyes.

“Can I have a hug?”

Spencer cut himself short from the mumbling, looking up from the floors to study your face. He looked mostly confused, not really being able to pinpoint what was going through your head with your request. He had to be a very, very stupid man to deny your request.

His eyebrows pinched together, probably concerned for you, and that did no better for your upcoming waterworks. His voice came out in the very soft and caring way it always did when he was worried for you.“Yeah, of course,”

He pushed the wheels of the chair he had just pulled out and scooted closer to your own chair. His arms reached out for you, and you slumped forward, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and burying your face into it.

“Thank you,” You muttered. His hands tightened around your back, giving it a firm rub. He breathed in the sweet scent of you, basking in the strong vanilla that intoxicated every fiber of his being.

Being there for you as a friend, even infatuated as much as he was with you, was hard— but so worth it when he at least was allowed these moments with you.

You wanted to melt into him and not move a single muscle ever again. Why would you when your most comfortable place was in Spencer arms. It could never get better than this.

“You ok?” He mumbled into your hair, and you buried yourself deeper into his neck.

“Yeah, just wanna stay here for a bit,”

He smiled to himself, feeling you cling to him like dead body weight. As long as you felt a little better, he had no room to complain.

[rosenclaws]

Different Side of the Track || 50's Greaser!Logan smut

summary: All your life your parents had created the perfect image of their daughter that you were forced to fit into but when you went off to college and came back with a degree they were nothing but ashamed. Claimed that it wasn't a ladies place to be educated like that. So why not ruin their good family image even more and sleep with the older hot and mysterious man with a motorcycle.

warnings: MINORS DNI, SMUT, fem!reader, breast play, doggy style, rough sex, dirty talk, unprotected sex, borderline abusive family, sexism, harassment from a group of assholes, violent Logan.

wc: 4.6k

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a/n: It's my birthday! So to celebrate I wrote this fic because I couldn't get the idea out of my head and god he's hot. Also I didn't really try to do proper 50's talk because I'm lazy and I cannot handle all the research jaldfk;s. This ended up a little angstier than normal, as my fics usually do lol. The ending isn't my favorite but I tried im sorry asdfjkl. Okay anyways I really hope you like it!

You truly hated this town. College was a breath of fresh air and while it wasn’t always easy, it was better than home. You got your degree, proudest day of your life. Even if your parents didn’t show up. Even if you had to smile in the picture by yourself, watching everyone else celebrate with their families. Your parents never understood your want to go to college.

You thought they’d be proud but if anything they were ashamed. They think that a woman pursuing higher education was unladylike. That a woman's place was to stay at home and take care of the kids. They were embarrassed of you, refused to acknowledge any of your achievements.

You wished you could have stayed in your college town but then you got the letter. Your grandmother had passed and you needed to come home. You were heartbroken. Your grandmother was the only one to support you, and helped you when you worked countless hours at the diner to pay for it. She celebrated when the acceptance letter came in and she gave you the biggest hug when you left.

Coming home was a no-brainer, needing to be here for her funeral but now you’re stuck at home with your parents and life is miserable. You were counting down the days until you could get out of here again. You spent as much time as you could out of the house.

Going to work, dreaming of another life. Doing literally anything you could to stay out and away from your parents. That’s how you found yourself here. Taking midnight shifts at the diner to stare at the man sitting at the counter.

Logan. It was sewed onto the patch on his jumpsuit. You don’t even know his last name but you do know that you want to know everything about him. He worked at the mechanic shop right across the street. He was dark, brooding, mysterious. He didn’t talk to anyone. Just ordered one black coffee and sat there with the paper. This was a small town and you had never seen or heard of him before.

“You’ll catch flies if you don’t shut your mouth there pumpkin.” You feel a hand on your jaw and you swat it away. Betty, your coworker was grinning like a madwoman. She was a sweet old lady who has worked at this diner for longer than you’ve been alive.

“Oh hush.” You look down at your order sheet. Sketches of your patrons fill the empty sheets. Mostly drawings of Logan.

“I don’t blame you sweetheart, he’s a dreamboat if I’ve ever seen one.” She sighs dreamily as she looks at him.

“Who is he?”

“Not sure, rolled into town one day. Plenty of rumors, though, say that he was an army guy. Some say that he’s running from the law.” You gasp at the idea.

He couldn’t be a convict could he? You’d never met anyone like that. Though, you feel yourself grow curious instead of fearful. Your whole life you lived in the perfect world. Perfect family with a lot of money and a perfect reputation to uphold. You got the perfect grades, had the perfect friends and still your life felt anything but perfect. You craved something more, needed it. You couldn’t live the rest of your life as someone's housewife. That wasn’t your dream.

“Looks like he needs a refill..” Betty nudges your arm and pushes you forward. You eye the apple pie sitting in the case and steal a slice. No better way to get a man to talk than give him pie right? Clearing your throat you head over and put on a smile.

“Hi Logan.” He looks up from the paper with his usual stony face. A beat passes and he doesn’t speak.

“This is for you, on the house.” You place the pie down in front of him. You shift nervously in your spot as you pour coffee into his cup. He’s never told you his name, does he think you’re a freak or something?

“It’s on your uniform, you know. Your name.” You wince at how horribly awkward this feels. He looks down.

“That supposed to be me?” He grunts out. You tilt your head in confusion before following his gaze. Your guest checks with drawings all over them. Drawings of Logan. You slam your hands down and stuff them in your pocket.

“No! I mean, yes but it’s nothing. Just drawings I. I’m sorry.” Logan just looks at you and you walk off in shame.

Mentally kicking yourself as you sulk back to the kitchen. Betty takes over serving him as you silently wait on the remaining people. By the time your shift is over your back aches and you’re still replaying that moment in your head.

“See you tomorrow Betty!” You say as you put on your coat.

“Hold on dear, this is for you.” She hands you a napkin and winks. Confused, you open it up to see messy handwriting. 

Thanks for the pie doll

-Logan

Logan has come by every night since then. Ordering one black coffee and you sneak him whatever pie is left. Sometimes it’s apple, other days it’s pecan. Today’s pie is pumpkin. Just in time for the fall season. He’s still a man of few words but he’s always polite. Pays and says thank you with that handsome voice of his. You’ve gathered some information on him. Mostly from the town gossip.

The group of boys, greasers who would often come by and cause a ruckus, idolized him. He drove a motorcycle, fixed cars, and smoked like there was no tomorrow. In some weird way he’s become their parental figure. Not that he really gave a shit but he worked with them at the shop and he took care of them when he needed to. He strolled in again today. This time he looks at you and throws you a wink. It’s a little routine the two of you have now. Not much talking but it’s nice. You think you’ll be able to get him to open up soon enough.

“Thanks doll.” Logan says as he sits on the worn stool. You hand him his coffee and pie, already prepared just the way he likes it.

“So, do I get to know your last name yet?” He smirks and takes a sip of his coffee.

“How about you fetch me a napkin first. Then I’ll think about it.” You roll your eyes playfully and he smiles. The door jingles and you hear the sound of obnoxious laughing. You look up to see the jerkiest looking boys you’ve ever seen. They wore letterman jackets that seemed too small and talked too loud.

One of the boys, a blonde guy who seemed vaguely familiar whistles at you. You hold back a scoff as you walk over to their table. They’re looking you up and down with a gaze that makes you shiver. Absolute jerks.

“Hey sweetheart, why don’t you be a good girl and get us some milkshakes.” You clench your jaw as you jot down their order.

It dawns on you that you know exactly who that guy is. David Scott. He was in your high school class. Quarterback, the popular guy every girl in school wanted, and the worst human being you’ve ever met. He was nothing but a no good bully. It seems fitting he’s never truly moved on from this town as he was dumber than a bag of rocks. Logan catches your eyes as you head back to the counter. Preparing their order and trying to tune out their annoyingly loud voices. Before you head back with their order you top off Logan’s coffee.

“You know drinking this much caffeine can’t be good for you.” You say.

“And yet you’re still serving me.” He shoots back. You shrug your shoulders and smile, he’s got you there.

“Hey! You done serving grandpa over there.” Logan growls and his grip tightens on his cup.

“Ignore them, they’re nothing but a bunch of idiots.” You say under your breath. You bring the tray of drink over and set them down.

“Anything else?” You ask through gritted teeth.

“Nope.” David whispers something to his friend before moving his hand and spilling his shake all over you and the floor. His friends burst out laughing and you bend down to clean up the mess. Counting down the seconds until they leave. You’re too focused on cleaning to hear David whisper to his friend.

“Watch this.” You hear the stool fall and suddenly you’re pushed to the ground.

“Get off me!” You turn around and see Logan holding David by the collar of his shirt. Teeth bared and a dangerous look in his eyes.

“Logan!” You scramble to your feet as he shoves David into the booth.

“Think you’re funny bub? You’re lucky she’s here or I’d beat you to a pulp.” He growls, eyeing his friends who are now cowering in fear. You stand stunned as Logan seems to command the room.

“I’ll give you ten seconds to scram or I’ll make good on my promise.” He rolls up the sleeves of his jumpsuit and grins. You’ve never seen a group of boys in so much panic.

“And don’t forget to pay.” Logan says with a smirk. They throw down more than enough money and bolt out the door.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to do that.” You say softly as Logan seems to calm down.

“Fuckin’ idiots.” He shakes his head and gently pushes you away from the mess.

“Broken glass doll, gotta be careful.” Silently the two of you clean up the mess, him scooping up the glass and you cleaning the table.

You watch carefully as he handles the glass, watching to make sure he doesn’t cut himself. You see a piece of glass slice his hand and you hurry to the back to get a band aid. However when you come back the cut is gone, maybe it was just strawberry? The clock strikes 4am and the new waitress comes through the door, relieving you of your duties. He waits for you to clock out and walks you out the door.

“Thank you again Logan.” He just shrugs and lights a cigarette.

“Let me walk you home.” He offers and you accept. The walk is silent as you head to your home. You eye his cigarette and he notices. He holds it out to you and you take it. Taking a puff and immediately coughing it back up. Logan chuckles as he takes it back.

“Never smoked before?” You shake your head and he just smiles. Figures.

You’re much too sweet to have done anything bad. Just looking at the houses around him he knows that you’re as high society as they come. When you reach your house Logan stands on the sidewalk, watching as you walk up the driveway. You look at your door and then turn around to hurry back to Logan. Leaning in you kiss his cheek and he almost drops his cigarette.

“Bye Logan.” You bite your lip as you slowly walk back. As you walk through the door you hear him call to you.

“Howlett, my last name is Howlett.” 

Your sweet night with Logan turned sour the minute you woke up. Your parents were down at the breakfast table. Scowling with disappointed looks on their face. Oh great what else is new.

“You need to quit.” Your dad says and you laugh.

“What?”

“Do you know how embarrassing it is for us to tell people you’re working at a diner? You come home smelling like smoke? It’s insulting the family!” Your mother hisses and you feel tears well up in your eyes. You knew they were cruel but to hear those words from your own mother. It hurt.

“I am an adult, I don’t have to listen to you anymore.”

“As long as you’re living here you do. Now go down and tell them or I will.” Your father stands and stares you down. You feel so fucking helpless. It’s true. You’re stuck here and the money you’ve saved up isn’t enough to get out of here just yet.

You storm out of the house, letting the tears fall once you’re out of their view. The walk to the diner is miserable. You don’t want to quit, you like your job. Tears fall as you tell your manager, apologizing and leaving with your tail tucked between your legs. You hated this. You longed to be free and now you’re trapped at home.

Sitting on a bench outside of the diner you let yourself cry. Not wanting your parents to see any sign of weakness from you.

“Hey, everything okay doll?” You look up and see a blurry Logan from your watery eyes. He’s got grease and oil on his face and suit. Wiping his hands with a rag.  You shake your head and Logan sits next to you.

“My parents made me quit.” He scoffs in disbelief.

Oh Logan knows all about your father. He wasn’t sure until last night but once he saw your house he knew exactly who your family was. Flaunting their money and status to spit on those lower than them. He serviced your fathers car a few times. Adding pointless upgrades. On the bright side he charges him double and your father doesn’t even bat an eye.

“That’s bullshit.” Logan says angrily. You’ve told him about your life. How disrespectful your parents are. How stupid they can be, anyone should be proud of their daughter getting a degree but they think it’s shameful. You’re smart, pretty, a real perfect girl.

“I don’t know what to do.” You say in such a defeated tone.

“You can always spend time at my work, don’t know if it’s the kind of place you’re used to hanging around but-” He gets cut off as you lunge at him. Hugging him tightly as you seek comfort in his arms. He freezes but slowly places his arms around you. Your perfectly crisp and clean dress was now dirty by his hands but you don’t care.

“I owe you so much Logan, you’ve been a real life saver.” You don’t want to let go. He’s toned, even with the jumpsuit over him. He’s strong and his arms are so warm and welcoming.

“Don’t worry about it doll, can’t stand to see a pretty girl like you so upset.” You lean up and kiss his cheek again. He grins as you scoot closer to him. Suddenly he pushes you back. You’re confused until you see your father pulling up next to the diner. Oh god did he see anything?

“You quit?” He asks, glaring at the dirt on your dress.

“Yes. I quit.” You say unhappily but he doesn’t care. He shifts his eyes to Logan.

“What happened there?” He says accusingly, you know your father wouldn’t hesitate to threaten Logan despite Logan being much stronger. It’s the egotistical nature of him.

“She fell, I caught her.” Logan lies so easily. Your father hums and drops it to your relief.

“I need you to look at my car tomorrow, something’s wrong with the brakes.”

“Got it.” Logan says casually and you can see your father roll his eyes. He drives off leaving the two of you on the bench.

“Say, why don’t you come by with your father tomorrow. I’d be happy to show you a few things” Logan offers, a flirty tone to his voice.

He walks off before you can respond, needing to get back to work. You throw the idea around in your head as you head back home. There’s no denying that Logan is hot. Really hot. He’s everything your parents hate. Lower class, older, doesn’t care about their status. It would drive them insane if you started to hang around a guy like him.

Though you don’t want to just use him to get back at your parents. You really do like him. It’s a win win in your head. Smiling to yourself you already start to pick out your outfit for tomorrow.

Ready to cause a little chaos. 

Your father didn’t understand why you wanted to come with him but you gave him so stupid excuse and he bought it. Your father pulled the car in and threw the keys at Logan. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes but Logan does it for you. Despite Logan being much more knowledgeable about cars, your father still talks down to him. It’s rude and classist and you hate it.

“I’d like to stay, you know, make sure nothing goes wrong.” Your father scoffs but leaves you be.

“He’s real lucky I don’t punch his lights out.” Logan mutters as he pops the hood of his car.

“I’m really sorry, you don’t deserve that.” Logan shrugs. He’s used to it by this point.

“Don’t worry your pretty head about me.” He leans over and kisses your cheek.

He wipes off a seat for you to sit on and you watch him work. There’s something about the way he moves that’s just…attractive. His muscles strain in his jumpsuit, sweat drips down his face. And the noises, god the noises. The grunts when he moves something heavy. Then he does the unthinkable. He unzips his jumpsuit, taking off the top half and tying it around his waist. Leaving him in just a white tank top.

Now you really have a show. You don’t know how much time has passed and you don’t care. Slowly the garage empties as people head to lunch until it’s just you and Logan. Logan can feel your eyes on him. In fact he loves it. Your cute face is staring at him like a piece of meat. He can see you shift on the leather stool. He can smell how bad you want him. It’s desperate, almost pathetic how badly you want him. He stands up, making sure to flex his arms as he sets down the wrench. 

“You alright doll, you look a little hot?” Logan feigns concern as he steps closer to you. Placing his hands on the workshop table. Caging you in.

“I’m okay.” You eye his chest shamelessly, eyes traveling down to the bulge in his suit.

“Yeah? I don’t know…” He slowly takes your sweater off. Leaving your arms bare and your cleavage on show for him.

“I’m not sweet doll, not gonna treat you like a good girl.” He growls in your ear and you whimper. Oh you need him bad.

“I’ll break a sweet thing like you, but something tells me you want that.” You grab his face and smash your lips to his. It’s messy and dirty, teeth knocking against each other as you fight for dominance. Logan slips his hands under your dress, lifting you up to the workbench and stepping in between your legs. Your hands are locked in his hair. Tugging hard as he deepens the kiss. He groans into your mouth. His hands rip your dress at the top. You gasp as his lips trail down your neck leaving sloppy wet kisses until he reaches your boobs.

“Fuck.” He squeezes your chest roughly, purring at the feeling of them in his hands.

“So cute.” He says with a wink as he leans down and bites your nipples roughly. He promised he wouldn’t be nice and he meant it. He shamelessly grinds his bulge against your wet panties.

“Dirty girl, letting a no good mechanic touch you like this. What would your daddy say hm?” He taunts as his hands move to slip up your dress. Pulling your panties down and stuffing them in his pocket.

“Who fucking cares?” You spit out as you grind your hips. Soaking his suit with how wet he’s made you.

“Oh, pretty girls got a mouth on her.”

“Just hurry up!” You whine as you slip your hands under his tank top.

Lifting it over his head so you could get the view of his muscular body. He unties his jumpsuit and yanks it down, letting his hard cock free. To your surprise he picks you up and brings you to your dads car.

“Turn around.” He lifts your dress up and bends you over the hood of the car. His hands run across your ass, squeezing and admiring the view as he slowly grinds his cock along it. The tip of his dick slides in and you moan.

“Yeah, feels good doesn’t it doll.” He says cockily as he renders you utterly speechless.

The stretch is unbelievably amazing as he bottoms out. You whine as you feel every vein, every twitch of his cock inside of you. He’s so big. Everything about him is big. His presence, his arms, his cock. He was just big. He barely gives you anytime to adjust before fucking hard into you. Your hands claw for anything to hold onto. The hood of the car is too slippery so Logan just pins your arms behind your back instead.

“Naughty, naughty girl.” Logan huffs as he leans down to bite your ear. His pace is relentless. Pounding the words right out of you.

“Letting me fuck you on your daddies car.” He puff his chest out proudly. He’s tearing you apart on your asshole fathers car. Making you moan his name as he desecrates his car.

“Feels so good Logan. Oh god!” His cock hitting that perfect spot in you every time. Over and over. It’s unrelenting. You involuntarily shift your hips. The pleasure becomes overwhelming.

“Where are you going doll? I’m not done with you yet.” He lets go of your hands and grabs your hips, pulling you back on his cock with a bruising grip.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” You beg wildly as you move your hips back to meet his thrusts.

“Not planning on it.” He tilts his head back in pleasure as he pounds into you. He feels you clenching tightly around him. Your legs are quivering under him. There’s grease smudged all over your body, your face.

You catch a glimpse of yourself in the reflection of the windshield. You’re completely disheveled, hair a mess. Makeup smeared and clothes torn. You look absolutely filthy and you love it. You can see Logan’s abs flexing as he thrusts his hips. His hands run up your sides. Taking you by the shoulders to slam you back on his cock. A weak cry leaves your throat with every thrust. Finally you break. A desperate, strangled moan as your body quakes. Shaking and rocking you right to your core.

“That’s it doll, I’ve got you.” He leans down and nudges his nose into your neck. Kissing softly as his thrusts slow just for a moment. Letting you breathe. You’ve never felt more happy in your life.

Logan kisses the side of your head as his hips grow sloppy. Chasing his release and savoring the feeling of your tight pussy squeezing him. With a loud groan he pulls out and finishes on your ass. Your eyes close as your body feels like it's melting. You can barely stand. Logan wipes you down with a clean rag, loving how fucked you appear to be. 

“I got you.” He gently picks you up and brings you to a bench. Laying his clean jacket over you as you will your legs to stop shaking.

“You alright?” He’s got a devilish grin on his face as he redresses himself. Somehow it’s like he’s back to normal while you’re wrecked.

“Perfect, oh my god you’re amazing.” You lean back into the bench and sigh happily.

“What the hell is going on here?!” You shoot up and see your father storming towards you angrily. You’re a mess and you don’t think Logan can lie his way out of this one. He’s angry. Really angry.

“You are nothing but a disappointment and you have been ever since you were born! A disgrace to the whole family! To the town! Doing such horrible things with the likes of him.” He snarls as he points at Logan. You’re stunned into silence.

“I have the right mind to never let you out of the house again you ungrateful little-”

Logan steps in front of him and he tries to hit Logan right in the face but fails miserably. You gasp as Logan pushes him against his car. You watch as boney claws shoot from his hands. Your father squirms in fear as the tips of his sharp claws grow closer to his neck.

“Shut the fuck up.” Logan growls.

“You’re a real fucking dick and a sorry excuse for a father. If I ever see you come near her again I’ll fucking kill you.” He lets go of your father and watches as he runs away. Yelling about mutant freaks. Logan turns back to you, a cold look settling on his face when he sees your face. Now you know his secret.

“You’re a mutant.” You say in awe. To his shock you reach out for him instead of running away.

“I am.” You admire the claws, how amazing.

“Beautiful.” His mouth gapes open as you pull him closer.

For once someone is looking at him like he’s normal, like he’s not a freak of nature. He longs for this but he knows your dad won’t go down quietly. He’ll tell the whole town.

“Look doll, you’re too good for this town. You’re too good for me.” He brushes your cheek softly.

“I can’t stay here anymore and you need to go home. Pretend you never met me. You’re a smart girl and you have a bright future ahead of you.” Logan takes his hand away and walks away.

“Logan!” You throw off his jacket, you're limping slightly but you refuse to let him go. He’s quick on his feet, already shedding his work clothes for his normal ones. A leather jacket thrown over his tank top. His motorcycle is out back. He’s got a backpack already packed and ready to go. Like he was waiting for this moment to happen.

“Take me with you!” You stand in front of his bike.

“What?” He asks in disbelief.

“Please, I hate this town. I have money saved. I can help but please don’t leave me.” You move closer to him, taking his hand in yours.

“I can’t live like this anymore, Logan. I’d give it all up to be with you”

“I can’t let you do that.”

“It’s not your choice. It’s mine so please, take me with you.” He wants to say no. To leave you here. It would break your heart and his but it’s what's best. But a part of him wants to be selfish. He could protect you, he could take care of you. But he fears you’d regret it eventually.

He’s overthinking and you can tell. You grab his jacket and kiss him gently. He groans as he slips his arms around you.

“Please.” You beg softly.

“I can’t promise you the life you’re used to.” He warns but his resolve is slipping.

“I don’t care.” He sighs and kisses you again. It’s becoming addicting. You’re completely addicting.

“Hop on doll,” He throws his leg over the bike and waits.

You waste no time jumping on behind him. Wrapping your arms around his waist as he revs his motorcycle. You lean into him and smile. He stops so you could say goodbye to Betty and grab a bag of clothes. He waited at the door, a grin on his face as his claws were proudly shown off to your parents.

Then he drives. Away from your horrible family and the horrible town. Your future is uncertain but with Logan, you’re confident things will work out.

He’s all you need. 

[deathbyday]

˚ 𖥔˚Anya x implied f!Reader - sticking up for her˚ 𖥔˚

Written By: DeathByDay

+++

You sat around the lounge room’s table with the rest of the crew. Anya sat to your left, her hands intertwined with yours on her thigh. Swansea was just right across from you, Daisuke beside him. Curly and Jimmy sat on the ends of the table, staring at each other.

You all had just gotten word from Curly that Pony Express has finally shut down and this would be the last time the crew was together. Everyone became upset at the news, rightfully so, but Jimmy was angry.

He ranted about how Curly was selfish and heading for “bigger and better” than the five of you. You raised a brow, realizing how idiotic this fight between the two became.

You weren’t going to say anything about it, but that backfired when Jimmy began going around the table stating everyone’s struggles. And of course, he just had to start with your girlfriend.

“Anya never got into medical school because she’s, well, let’s be real..” He trailed off, glancing at the poor girl. He turned to you and opened his mouth to speak, but you immediately cut him off.

“Oh, fuck you, Jim!” You shouted, slamming your hands on the table and standing up. You pointed a finger towards him, continuing on. “You don’t have any right to go around the table saying that shit. What about you? Why don’t you share with all of us what Curly meant by a ‘struggle of a life’?”

You glared at the man, your eyes full of hatred. His brows furrowed even more as he stood up, his voice rising to match your energy.

“Who the fuck do you think you are to shout at me like that?” He yelled, his body acting like it was ready to pounce on you. “Don’t ignore my question!” You replied, voice raising. Everyone else stayed silent, watching the two of you argue.

That was until you eventually ran around Anya’s chair and slapped the brunette across the face, causing him to push you. You gripped his hair and slammed him into the ground with all your force, not thinking about how much more strength he had than you.

You two continued fighting, punches and kicks being thrown around. Daisuke had his hand clasped around his mouth in shock, looking like he was about to burst into tears and giggle like a kid.

Curly got up from his seat and shouted at the both of you in attempt to stop the fight, but failed miserably. As his attempted failed, Swansea stood up and grabbed you from underneath your arms and dragged you back, stopping the chaos.

“C’mon, kid!” He muttered a bit loudly, struggling as you fought back. Anya stood by the older man, a few tears in her eyes. As Swansea let you go, you were about to pounce on the brunette once again, but your girlfriend held you down by placing her hands on your shoulders.

“Y/N, stop!” She scolded, her grip tightening. You glanced up at the woman, obeying her order. You turned back towards Jimmy, seeing his face bruised up. You lightly chuckled, knowing that you fucked his face up.

Anya helped you up before dragging you away from everyone, walking to the medical room.

“Baby, I’m fine..” You muttered, dragging out your words as if you were pouting. She shook her head, concern written all over her face. “No, you aren’t. Your face is all bruised, not to mention the blood coming out of your nose.” She replied. She seemed mad, but her features told a different story.

After a few seconds of walking, you finally got to the medical room. You sat down in the red chair beside her desk, waiting for her to get the supplies to help you. She quickly grabbed them and set them down on the table.

She brung a few tissues that were wrapped around each other and pressed them against your nose, stopping the bleeding. You groan, feeling the red liquid drop onto your lip. “You shouldn’t have done that.” She mumbled, shaking her head in disappointment.

“But he came at you for no reason! I can’t just not step in.” You defend yourself, slightly giggling as you recall his bruised face. She sighed, taking the tissue away from your nose.

She then grabbed an ice pack, placing it against your cheek. You grumble, squirming in your seat at the new temperature. “Do you really think this is necessary? I swear, I’m fine.” You pout, feeling uncomfortable as she held you in place.

“This is necessary. If we don’t get this treated, the bruising can get worse.” She explained, gently tapping the ice around your face. You nod, taking a glance around the room as she did so.

After a few minutes, she pulled away, causing you to turn to her. “Did I do good?” You murmur, hoping for her praise. She fights back a smile and gives you a light chuckle. She places her hands on her hips before exhaling, the worry in her face gone.

“You did great, honey. Just please promise me you won’t pick a fight with anyone else? We really don’t need you getting fired.” She smiles down at you, bending over and giving you a light kiss on your forehead before leaving the room, taking the ice pack and extra tissue with her to deal with Jimmy.

+++

authors note

I’m so sorry if this isn’t as good as you were expecting, my eyes are literally fighting to stay open💔

But thank you for the request!! I appreciate it very much<3

[livlaughloveluke]

plz plz plz part 2 to the loser luke

- 🍒

loser!luke x best friend reader 🫡

(part one)

18+ mdni

warning!- afab reader, porn what plot, no actual p in v, just a blurb, oral (f receiving), best friend to lovers, inexperienced luke although not really that much of a loser (sorry)

“wait, you want me to fuck you?” you asked in a hushed whisper, cocking your head to the side with a look of utter confusion. the bonfire raged on in the background, every other counselor too drunk on cheap vodka to notice how you two had drifted away from the crowd. the subtle taste of cherry lip balm and malibu lingered in your mouth as you anxiously chewed on your bottom lip, awaiting a response.

“please! just think of it as helping a friend out,” he pleaded with such desperation that it made you weak in the knees. the annoying sounds of cicadas chirping and teenagers hollering made your headache even worse, confusion and alcohol fogging up every logical thought. how in the world had luke “lightsaber” castellan (a generous nickname given by the aphrodite cabin after he mistakenly wore sweatpants out) never experienced good sex? you heard firsthand how the girls talked about him, and saw how their eyes peered for a smidge too long during training when he was dripping with sweat and out of breath.

“first off, where would we even…” the rest of the words got caught in your throat, adding onto the tension was practically suffocating you. were you really considering hooking up with your best friend of five years?

“there’s plenty of empty cabins. hera’s, maybe?” luke eagerly suggested, eyes widening with hope as his brain buzzed.

“her cabin is practically a temple! are you crazy?”

“everyone does it. it’s hot,” he reasoned, and you let out a sharp exhale of the sticky air. it was such an inexplicably bad idea, with your friendship and potentially your life at risk. but gods, he looked so attractive with the moonlight shining on his features, practically on his knees begging you to have sex with him.

“you swear this isn’t just the drinks talking?” you interrogated as your heart rate unwillingly increased to concerning speeds.

“pinky swear. i need you,” he entreated, the ending morphing into a breathy groan of despair. you looked up to meet his lustful gaze, watching his adam’s apple bob up and down while he swallowed impatiently.

instead of responding, you grasped his hand and nearly jogged to the hera cabin, the gravel from the road kicking up with every step. you barged into the wood building, silently praying no one had the same idea as you, at least not tonight. the door slammed shut and you threw yourself onto luke, teeth clashing feverishly and spit swapping as you cusped his face. his hands sneaked down to the fat of your ass, kneading and grabbing your skin through the thick fabric of your jeans.

“take my clothes off,” you instructed, pulling apart while breathless and greedily wanting more. all he could muster up was a quick nod before kissing you again, his veiny hand feeling around and unbuttoning your pants. tugging on the loops, you wiggled out of the denim and kicked them across the hardwood floor.

like two dancers, you stepped back in sync until you ran into the post of an unused bunk bed. he broke away from your swollen lips, carefully lying you down on the squeaky mattress that bounced as you made contact. luke loomed over your body, eyes darting around frantically as his face flushed pink from embarrassment, a nice contrast to his naturally tan skin. it didn’t take a genius to figure out he had no clue what to do next, so you made sure to swoop in quickly.

“you need to prep me first. like, eat me out or something. do you know how?” you asked, trying to sound calm but failing miserably as you gasped for oxygen. the sickening heat radiating from his body mixed with the summer air and the sexual tension created a distastefully hot atmosphere, beads of sweat adhering to your skin.

luke shook his head shamefully, the whole bizarre situation finally registering in his mind. you, his dream girl, was lying underneath him without any pants, and he didn’t know what the fuck to do.

“s’okay, that’s what i’m here for,” you sent a reassuring smile, hopefully letting him know that he shouldn’t stress. “start by taking my underwear off.”

he followed along slowly, tracing the lace edges and running his fingers over the small, perky bow in the front before pulling them down completely. you slid your shirt off while he waited in awe, his dick growing painfully harder with every second.

“now you just sorta, lick it, i guess,” you tried to explain, unsure of how to word going down on someone. he cautiously kissed up your thighs, his plump lips sending jolts of pleasure and anticipation through your body. landing on your wet heat, he nervously licked a stripe through your glossy folds, his warm breath a good contrast to the cool air circulating from an overhead fan.

looking up from your pussy, he watched as you let out a shaky breath of pleasure and gave him a small nod to continue. he ran his tongue over your folds again, this time brushing over your clit momentarily and coating it in spit. a hungry whine slipped out of your lips as you shifted to support your upper body using your elbows.

luke began to suck the edges, using suction to gnaw at the warm flesh. moving around, he started to rapidly flick his tongue over your most delicate parts. soft moans escaped your throat, installing some confidence within him. he grew sloppy and messier, now full blown making out with your cunt as your juices coated his lips. you groaned in response, the volume of your whimpers increasing with every movement. praises spewed from your lips mindlessly like a water fountain, encouraging him to keep going.

growing curious and more cocky, he slowly stuck his tongue in your soaking hole, causing you to gasp and moan with an unexpected pleasure. his nose brushed against your clit as he curled and flexed his tongue muscles, and that familiar knot in you stomach began to form. you urged him to keep going as your back arched and you tugged his damp curls.

“luke, i swear to the gods— mphm!— ‘m so close, please, please, please—“

the final straw was when he shook his head back and forth, knowing how you would react when his nose rubbed against your core. instinctively, your thighs closed around his head and your grip tightened in his hair as you reached your climax. waves of pleasure racked your whole body, your toes curling and legs shaking. after a few seconds, you realized that you were practically suffocating luke and apologized profusely while loosening your grip. he pulled apart slowly, dribbles of your cum seeping down his chin.

“what’s next?”

[miabebe]

Reverse Trope Series - Too Many Beds (Teaser)

You shared 25 years of your life with Seunghceol, what was another 4 nights right?

Pairing - Choi Seungcheol x reader

Word Count - 488 for the teaser ( The full fic is around 11k, give or take? It was supposed to be below 2K, I fucked up)

Genre - Enemies to lovers? Frenemies to lovers? Lovers to lovers? Idk man, these two are idiots and I love making them pine hehe

Warnings - none for the teaser, maybe an reference to Seungcheol's dick

Estimated posting date - 6th July, 5pm KST (I don't have a taglist but I am happy to tag if anyone wants? Just drop comment or send an ask/message :)

Edit - It's out! Read here :)

“Absolutely not.” 

“No way in hell.” 

Seungcheol glared at you as you narrowed your eyes at him. 

“I’m not sharing a room with him.” 

“I don’t wish to even breathe in her vicinity.” 

“Then maybe I should do mankind a service by being around you more.”

“The only way you can help mankind is by shutting your mouth.” Seungcheol leaned closer, his voice dropping. “You’re not pretty enough for all the stupidity that comes out of it.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Rich coming from you. If I had a face like yours, I’d sue my parents.” 

“Aw, fifth graders can insult better than you sweetheart.” 

“That was a fact darling.”

“Ah” The two of you turned to the receptionist, finally remembering her presence as her confused eyes flickered between you and Seungcheol. “So the two of you are dating?” 

Looking at her incredulously and with unadulterated disgust, the two of you immediately took a step back. 

“No!” 

“No!” 

“I’d rather stub my pinky toe on furniture everyday that date her-” 

“And I’d rather choke on my own spit everyday than date him-”

“Oh baby, I knew you were a desperate one. How about I give you something to better to choke on-”

“Honey, are you sure? I heard you can stack fruit loops on that puny thing-” 

“Enough!” The old woman behind the counter got to her feet, putting her hands on her hips, the never-ending squabbling finally getting to her. “If either of you say another word, I will personally put you both in the tiniest broom closet I can find and trust me, the ones in this lodge are devastatingly small.” 

You immediately shut up, dreading that idea more than anything. Seungcheol too became uncharacteristically and thankfully, quiet.

“Now, as far as your room is concerned, your company booked only one room, number-” She glanced at the paper in her hand and pulled out a pair of keys from the drawer. “- 68. If you can bear each other for 4 nights, well and good, get moving. If not, then take your things and get out of here. Good luck finding another lodge in this miserable weather.” 

And as though on cue, a bright light, followed by a loud thunder flooded the room, taking aback all three of its inhabitants. From the corner of your eye you saw Seungcheol visibly gulp, well aware of his fear of thunder.

Seungcheol too heard the way you sniffled, knowing that your rhinitis would only get worse with the humidity rising outside.

Sighing with the realization that there was no way out of this, both of you reached for the keys at the same time, making the old woman snatch it faster than the damn lightning to avoid yet another fight from breaking out.

Ringing for the bellboy, she handed him the keys before he took your suitcase and Seungcheol’s bag in one hand each, leading the way to your despair of the night. 

[shiny-jr]

from IGNIHYDE

- Warning: Yes, this is still a yandere thing. You have been warned. Gender-neutral reader.

- Characters: Idia Shroud, Ortho Shroud.

- Summary: (Continuation, after this “we just got a letter, wonder where it’s from”) You have barred them from entering the safety of Ramshackle Dorm, but they are determined to make their words reach you. Which is why the letters begin arriving at your doorstep.

- Note: This seems a little more low-key than Diasomnia, but the obsession is there if you squint. It’s just way more low-key than the previous group. For some reason I feel like I maybe wrote Ortho a little off? Not sure. Feel free to tell me your thoughts.

Diasomnia   |   Ignihyde   |   Pomefiore

The break ends quickly. Too quickly. Before you know it, you’re back in front of the mountain of unread letters that appears even more ominous than before now that you could guess what sort of dark contents they may hold. 

For your own peace of mind, you’ve decided to read only two and then take a pause right after. 

The first of which was just a simple long white envelope. That’s it. There was nothing that stood out about it, no special seal or stamp. It was just the generic type of encasing that made it look like it was some sort of bill instead of a letter containing what was bound to be a message that unsettled you in some way, shape, or form. 

When you removed the letter, you was surprised to see that it wasn’t handwritten, it had been typed and printed out. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who this was from. 

Player, 

I messed everything up.

I don’t even see a point to doing this, writing this for you. I mean, if I were you, I’d never want to see my no-good miserable face ever again. I’d go to every length just to avoid even speaking to me again, and to spite them I’d never even show myself around again. But–– Ortho was making a letter and brought my keyboard to my lap. He said it was worth a shot, and if anything, it could be used as an apology so... sorry.

Any sorry would sound half-assed, considering what happened. It’s not like it matters, since I’m sure you wouldn’t read this. I imagine you would figure out it’s from me, and proceed to tear it up, burn it, whatever. And honestly? Valid. At this point, I’m sort of using it as a vent. Usually, I’d be telling Ortho all this, but all these thoughts I’m having would only bum him out and he’s depressed enough as it is. 

You know what sucks besides all of this? The fact that I genuinely tried. I actually tried to be a help for once, and like it always ends, my attempt to help screwed it up even more. Maybe if I had kept my mouth shut and minded my own business while holing myself up in my room like I always do, things wouldn’t have turned out this bad. If I just did what I was good at, which is nothing, Ortho and I might’ve avoided the shitstorm. Everyone else is currently throwing pity parties and plotting these super over elaborate schemes to try and interact with you by luring you out of the Ramshackle place. 

Ortho’s been coming up with plans too with other guys from the dorms that are just so desperate for your attention. It’s sad to watch, pathetic too, but I don’t have the heart to tell him not to bother with it. And me, I know better. If I were in your position and I saw all these attempts, it would definitely make me extra bitter and just hate everyone even more. Oh, I just remembered something worth mentioning. You may not believe me, I mean, I wouldn’t believe a single word coming from me, but I wasn’t actually going to hurt Grim. You though? Before I knew who you were? Yeah. Don’t get it twisted though, I was just doing it to fix everything until the whole truth got leaked not too long after.

Call me stupid, I guess. When I first saw how others revered you like how a bunch of creepy basement-dwellers look at a pretty perfect idol on a shiny bright stage, it was a major red flag. I wanted nothing to do with you. But when you started worming yourself into my life and I started getting attached, well, that made me a creep too for liking you. Red flags be damned. What can I say? Your presence even through Yuu, made me feel like I mattered, which is something I don’t experience a lot. 

You’d never know it, but I took risks just to be in the same room as your avatar. 

Missing special events on games, losing the chance to catch a concert live on screen, even ditching group calls with teammates and friends... All of that was utterly worthless if I got at least a solid sixty seconds by you. 

Unlike everyone else, I know better than to just show up at your doorstep and beg for forgiveness like some misguided puppy. Malleus and co. have been making sure you’re not disturbed, guarding you like a pack of guard dogs or something, preventing anyone from embarrassing themselves and messing up any further. Ortho said I should at least try to call you, I think he just wants to hear your voice. But why bother? 

Don’t get it wrong, I’m not just letting everything go just like that. As much as I’d like to, and I know it’s probably the “healthy” and “good” thing to do, I don’t want to. I’m not good, you know that already. I’ll keep in the background this time, and try not to mess up again. Although no guarantees, because with my lousy luck, I know something will inevitably go wrong. Don’t worry, I won’t bother you. I wouldn’t want to make the mental image you have of me in your mind even worse, if its even remotely possible for it to somehow get worse. I just can’t let go. Even if you looked at me like trash, avoided me like the plague, or straight up tell me ‘I hate you’ to my face, I still won’t let go. 

And, well, all I can really think of right now besides you, is Ortho. Even if I can’t show my disgraced presence to you anymore, I still hope you’ll see Ortho. At least if Ortho could explain to you that he was acting on my plan, he might get lucky and be next to you again. Maybe. Hard maybe. 

But me? No, I don’t ever deserve to be anywhere near you anymore. For now, I’ll go back to how things were way back... when your vessel hadn’t yet had the misfortune of meeting me and I just watched your every move from monitors like some sort of loser schmuck. 

I think I’ll just imagine how things would be if I hadn’t doomed all my chances. If I had a chance... maybe I would’ve actually worked up the gall to sit next to you, or even look at you, or, hell, talk to you. At least, I’ll always remember when you used your avatar to look at me and it didn’t feel bad... like, almost like you didn’t see me as some lame nobody. That must’ve been my mind just playing tricks on me though, right? There’s no way that happened... 

Enough of this mushy stuff though. I’m sick of it. 

Just throw this in the fire without a second glance. 

Idia Shroud 

In order to get this over as quickly as possible, you decided to continue without taking a breather. The quicker you finished reading them, the better, that way, you wouldn’t even give your mind any time to fully process what you were reading before overwhelming your vision with more lines and lines of words until they became blurred together. 

You wouldn’t stop, because if you stopped, that would be allowing your mind the opportunity to spiral out of control. You needed a distraction. 

This wasn’t exactly the good type of distraction either, it was more like adding gasoline to the fire, but part of you had to know what they would say. No matter what feelings you held, the curiosity outweighed it. 

The second letter is identical to the first, a simple long white envelope with no particularly interesting details about it other than the fact that it had zero stains and no wrinkles on it. It was pristine and clean, not even a drop of ink on it. The insides of the envelope itself were blue, with small white lines on it, but upon closer inspection it became obvious that they weren’t just stripes, they were skull symbols so tiny that it was hardly noticeable. 

Of course, as you expected, the letter inside was not handwritten. It was folded so precisely into thirds, and unfolding it displayed the typed and printed words neatly stacked in indented paragraphs. 

Greetings, Player, 

First, I want to apologize sincerely. 

Secondly, I want to tell you how much I have missed you, and my brother has missed you as well! I don’t believe I can fully comprehend how you are felling at the current moment, and I cannot even accurately guess to what emotions you are experiencing. In my attempt to alleviate the situation, I’ve been running millions of simulations of possible alternative futures in order to take the best route where things might return to a semblance of normalcy. 

Well, a new normal, now that you’re here! However... when each simulation yields a result, I can’t help but feel as if something is wrong. That’s when I realized there was a key component that was off. It was you, or rather, Yuu. We know of Yuu and their mannerisms and opinions, but that isn’t really you. Yuu is a vessel, and extension, that’s partially based off yourself. 

So none of us know the true you. At least, not yet! I’m hoping to change that. Just when I think I’m beginning to understand you, things like this happen. But, that’s what makes you so exciting! There’s always some unforeseen detail and amazing new aspect of yourself to learn about. Once I get a proper grasp on what you’re truly like, I can use that new knowledge to make you happy, just as you made me and my brother always smile!  But also, I want to use it to make it up to you. Honestly, I’m scared that you’ll hate me. In the simulations I ran that gave inaccurate results due to those missing components, nearly all the results had a bad ending... 

I don’t want that. I want to have a ‘normal’ way with you and Idia! A good normal! Like where we might all have movie nights in the Ignihyde dorm with freshly popped popcorn and candies as snacks, or study days when we read over notes and help each other out, maybe you might even be able to convince Idia to leave his room so we can all share lunch in the cafeteria like a group of friends would typically do! That’s what I want! I don’t think I could stand knowing I made you cry or was the cause of your pain. I never hurt you, right? At least not physically. 

Believe me, I had made attempts to meet you. But those in Diasomnia won’t allow it. I was tempted to charge up the technomantic beam installed within my form, but realizing it wasn’t necessary, I didn’t. Idia was right when he didn’t make an effort to even join me, and Malleus Draconia with his own have realized it too. You aren’t ready yet. Even if I’m more than prepared to see you, I can’t rush you. So, I left this letter in their hands, hoping it reached you. If not, there’s no worries. I’ve prepared a dozen more printed copies and if that fails, I’ve created a digital copy! 

Since I couldn’t tell you in person, I’ll tell you through paper... 

I’d like to invite you to formally meet me. I’m even prepared to surprise Idia with this! That’ll cheer him up for sure. You always made him happy, so us properly meeting you would be a dream come true for us both! 

If you’d like to do something upon meeting us, I’ve organized multiple activities for us to participate in. The other first years have reached out and expressed their own desires to make up for the mistakes they made. So, I met with them a few days ago to make plans you might enjoy! These plans are still in the preparation phase, so I can’t reveal them quite yet, but soon I will! 

Anyways, I just wanted to make you aware of this. And I want to say ‘I’m sorry’ even though it feels minuscule to what I’m only guessing must be the strong emotions you feel toward what occurred. But I wanted to let you know that I always want to be your friend, and I always will be, even if you don’t really like me anymore. Friends are supposed to be there for each other, right? So I’ll be there for you now. Remember, I’m a high-tech being, I can be of great use to you if you want! Even if you’d rather just use me as a tool, I would be happy. If you want someone obliterated to ashes or are just looking to answers as to what the weather might be, I would gladly help you with that and so much more! 

And it’s not only me that could be useful to you, my brother can too! Although he probably won’t say it, he depends on you a lot. You’re like a battery to him, you give him the energy he needs. If you’d let him, let us both, we’d be there for you in a zeptosecond! 

There’s one thing I know for certain. You’re the common variable needed for our happiness, no matter the scenario or result, you are a requirement. And I’m certain we can bring you happiness as well. Myself, my brother, and everyone that treasures you, can bring you joy if you allow it. All I want is to see you happy, and everyone else happy as well. So will you please at least consider seeing us again? Soon? Please? 

Hoping to see you soon. 

From your friend, 

Ortho Shroud  

[pretty-little-mind33]

Tangerine x fem!reader

Summary: Your boyfriend punishes you ;)

Genre: SMUT (nsfm), a little darker than usual but nothing very intense.

Warnings: rough sex, oral sex (m receiving), choking kink, big dick!tangerine, dom!tangerine, sub!reader, bdsm themes, degradation, praise, pussy slapping, slight humiliation, color system, aftercare.

TANGERINE MASTERLIST

"Shit, baby, couldn't fuckin' shut up, could ya?"

Tangerine's hand clenches around your hair, dragging you inside your shared apartment. You stumble, kicking off your heels as you grip your boyfriend's forearm. You whine from the slight pain in your scalp, which is enough to turn you on and not hurt you, as you look up, catching his gaze. 

He is beyond furious. 

You can't exactly blame him. You'd known what you'd been doing all evening—flirting with his coworkers and making his life miserable in front of all his work friends. 

Toying with his reputation, like he'd said, all because it was fun to see him so riled up. 

Tangerine throws you onto the couch in the living room, not bothering to look at you as he loosens his tie.

"Strip," he demands, his voice hoarse with frustration and undeniable need. You can't help yourself as you whine and squirm. 

He sends you a glare. "I said strip, slut. Now. And why don' ya hand me your fuckin' panties while yer at it. Bet you're fuckin' soaked for me," he laughs darkly, striding over to you and wrapping his tie around your nape, securing it in front as he pulls you closer by the ends. 

He's standing over you as you sit on the couch so your mouth hits the bulge in his trousers. "Open your mouth," he orders and you obey, using your hands to nervously strip your evening dress as Tangerine holds your mouth to him as he controls you by the tie around your neck.

You fumble with your dress, whining again as you try your best to pleasure him through his trousers. Tangerine tightens his tie a little, causing the sounds you make to sound more desperate and depraved. You look up at him with those pleading eyes he loves so much as you undress and your bra falls on the floor.

He holds out his hand with a smirk. 

You hand him your panties, the black, lacy, fabric drenched in your juices from the evening. All the teasing and touches had done a number on you just as much as it had on him. He grins and holds them up in front of you for you to see, examining them.

He tilts his head mockingly, "How fuckin' pathetic you are, my lovely," he says and loosens the tie again so you can breathe normally. "So wet for me."  

Tangerine pockets your panties and discards his tie on the couch. Then, he unzips his trousers, leaving them on but taking himself out. He lazily strokes his cock as one of his hands finds your hair and he holds you still. "This what ya needed, slut?" he teases, "A hard cock to shut ya up?"

You nod, opening your mouth in anticipation. 

"Yeah, that's what I thought. C'mon," he grunts and pulls you to him, his grip rough and unforgiving, "suck me good, darlin'. Apologize properly for bein' such a fuckin' brat tonight."

You take him inside you without any complaining, your mouth adjusting to his size. You usually can't take all of him, but tonight it's obvious that he'll make sure you can. 

"Actin' out in front of my coworkers and my bosses. Actin' like a brat in front of bad men, darlin'. Men who'd treat you so much worse than I am. Not such a smart decision, innit? You're so fuckin' lucky I'm here to make sure you're okay, you fuckin' tease."

You gag, feeling Tangerine's hand in your hair push you forwards. You whimper around him. "Ohh, baby, mm, it hurts, doesn't it? Mm, my darlin' sweet angel," he mocks sympathy, his tone dripping with condescension, as his hips snap into you.

Tangerine always has an attentive eye on you during sex, that much you know since he can anticipate your reactions better than anyone—sometimes even better than yourself when you're lost in a haze—but you can tell that tonight he also wants to make you break.

He's succeeding because tears brim in your eyes and you claw at his thighs, needing something to hold onto. At this, he tuts, "Hands behind your back. No touching without permission." You listen, shifting your hands so you hold them behind your back, pretending they're bound.

"Good girl," Tangerine praises with a smirk. "You're so much sweeter when you don't act like a spoiled fuckin' brat." His voice is mixed with a groan as his hand tightens in your hair and pushes you so close to him it's making it hard for you to breathe.

He lets go just in time and you move away, catching your breath as drool hangs from your lips. Your mascara runs down your cheeks, eyes round and teary as you look at him. He's still wearing his clothes while you're completely naked and the humiliation settles deep into your stomach.

"Turn around and bend over, slut," he orders and you hurry to turn around, your stomach pressed against the couch as your knees burn from the roughness of the rug underneath you. You lower your cheek on the cushion, a tear staining the fabric, breathing heavily as you feel him slap your inner thigh so your legs open.

"Tan," you whine when you feel him press against you, his thighs against yours. He uses one of his hands to press your face into the mattress.

"Ya wanted this," he whispers into the shell of your ear, his lips moist. You whine again and he presses a harsh kiss to the top of your head. "Now, shut up. If you didn't wanna be fucked so hard, you should have been better behaved, hm?"

You nod. You know he's right. This was what you wanted, it was just so much. You let out a small squeal when you feel your boyfriend's cock tease your entrance, your arousal sticking to him.

"You're fuckin' soaked for me. I don't even need foreplay tonight, how fuckin' convenient." He grins and leans over you, his hand remains in your hair as he keeps you still for him.

"Colour?" he murmurs, barely audible, his voice calmer. 

When you don't answer, he halts his hip movements and you whine. 

"Green," you tell him, your voice muffled from the mattress and the pressure of his hand. Your words are all he needs to sink his fully hard cock into you as he leans over, his lips near your ear again.

"You always feel tight for me," he groans, "how is that even possible," he murmurs to himself. He's slow and tortuous in the beginning, taking his time with you and making you feel every inch of him. It's another form of punishment.

You're in heaven. It feels like your body has formed a sheer line of heat that makes it difficult to try and focus on how he feels. Tangerine is muttering dirty words in your ear, occasionally slapping your ass as he pushes your thighs further apart and uses his hand to tease your clit as he pounds into you.

He slaps your pussy, hitting your clit, and talks to you sternly, "I want you to understand that you're mine, slut. You're my girl and as my girl, you listen to me, don't ya? Because that's what good girls do, hm."

You nod as he punctuates his words with harsh, deep, thrusts that gradually increase in speed. Tangerine's grunt and groans become much louder in your ear and you're overwhelmed in the best way. 

"Who does this dirty pussy belong to, huh?" 

He pulls on your hair, jerking your head up as you let out a whine. Your stomach tightens. "Yours, sir," your words are breathless, struggling to keep up composure as he's fucking you so good—like he always does. 

"What's that, luv?" 

You whine as he drops your head again and his cock drags in and out of you. "Yours. You. Your pussy," you whimper louder and let out a bunch of broken moans as you lose yourself in him. You can tell he's close and so are you. His lips find your neck again as he thrusts in and out, making you feel warm as you finally come, your body relaxing. 

With a final moan, Tangerine comes inside you. He stills, his body pressed against yours as his breathing is harsh. He finally pulls out and you whine, your eyes teary as you miss him.

"Shh," he whispers and helps you up, pulling you onto his lap for a moment as he holds you close. "Colour, sweetness. Tell me," he urges, sensing you slip as he wipes tears away from your cheeks. "You did so good for me."

"Green," you whisper and nuzzle into him. He strokes your hair and hums. 

"You did so well for me," he says honestly, "I love you."

"You're not mad anymore?" 

Tangerine presses a kiss to your head and shakes his head. "No, sweet girl. You took your punishment so well. How could I ever stay mad at you," he pulls away and tilts your chin, kissing your lips.

His hand slides down to caress the slight marks he'd left on your neck and he smiles. "You always take your punishment so well," he says and your chest fills with pride. 

"I liked it, sir," you whisper. 

Tangerine shakes his head and makes a tsks sound.

"I liked it, Tan," you correct and lean into him. 

"My angel," is all he says as he tenderly kisses your lips again. 

tags: @kravensgirl, @brokeaesthetic, @earth-elemental18, @lqrlei, @princesssunderworld, @longlivedelusion, @thewinterv, @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader

[metalomagnetic]

Snippet for 'It runs in the bood'

I was so moved by all the lovely comments I got, that it made me want to work on the new chapter immediately, even if I probably should rest, instead.

Anyway, here is a little taste of Sirius being his horrible self.

-----

He finds Snape crowding Quirrell against a wall, acting all intimidating.

However, he’s a fucking looser that can only intimidate little children; it’s only when Sirius shows up that Quirrell bolts, making himself scarce so quickly, Sirius could swear he more flew away that walked-

I must be tired. Sirius must be seeing things that aren’t there. He had a very rough Samhain night, like all Samhain nights are for him, and after that, he had to open a letter to read Harry fought a fucking troll.

“That’s how you do it, Snivellus,” Sirius barks at him. “See, I just have to show up and people flee from me.”

Now it’s Sirius that crowds the miserable twat against the wall. “I hear you’re trying your hand at bullying, Snivellus. The problem is you’re trying it with my boy. I thought I should remind you why that is a terrible idea, the worst you’ve had in ten years.”

Snape glares at Sirius, with those black holes he has instead of eyes.

“How is it possible you got even uglier?” Sirius asks, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

Snape pulls out his wand, face twisting with hate.

Sirius laughs. “Really? You want to curse a Hogwarts Governor? Not only you got uglier, but stupider, too. Truly, life doesn’t seem to agree with you. Shut up!” he growls, when Snape opens his mouth. “I don’t care to hear what you have to say; I never did.” He steps closer, towers over Snape, who still holds his wand firmly, but hesitates to do more with it.

“You know what I think, Snape? I think you should have another moonlight encounter with a four legged, furry animal. I think the first one wasn’t enough to teach you a lesson. You know why it wasn’t enough? Because James saved you. But you got him killed, you sniveling worm. You got him and Lily killed, and now there’s no one to save you when I send Greyback after you. And I will, if I hear a single complaint against you from Harry. You know I will.”

“You-” Snape hisses, going red and deathly pale at the same time. It’s a funny combination. “That’s all you do these days, threaten to set the werewolf on people? Brave Gryffindors should fight their own battles-”

“You’re unworthy of my wand. Curses are wasted on you. I even feel sorry for Greyback, to stain his fangs with your disgusting body…a pity. Alas, that’s why I have minions, to spare me of such undignified tasks. You’d like to have minions, too, no doubt. You’d love to have the means to set a werewolf on someone; that’s why you’re on a power trip with the children, you fucking arsehole, because they’re the only ones powerless enough to listen to you. But you don’t have anything, that’s the truth. Remember, I used to tell you, when we were kids ourselves? That you’ll die alone and unwanted? Seems I was right. No doubt you’re still sleeping with Lily’s picture on your pillow, since the poor photograph can’t exactly protest to your pathetic presence. At least have the decency not to antagonise her son- the one that you orphaned.”

“Sirius,” a firm voice calls from the end of the hallway.

It’s Dumbledore’s no nonsense voice, very different from how he sounded half an hour ago.

“Oh, sorry,” Sirius hisses at Snape. “I forgot you do have someone. A master to serve. A new one, that is. You’ve forsaken the first one, after all-”

“Sirius!” Dumbledore’s voice gets even steelier, and it’s coming closer.

“Stay away from Harry, you greasy pice of shit!” Sirius warns, and then turns and storms away.

And if that weird Quirrell stalks after him again, he’s going to meet the bad end of Sirius’ wand. He’s reached the limit of his patience for the night.

For the entire fucking year, actually.

[epiphainie]

I see and love all your tearjerker proposal ideas, but we don’t talk enough about the absolute hilarity that would ensue with an Evan Buckley Proposal™️. Like I’m imagining him being soooo excited about it in the most Buck way possible. He has this ten page speech about how much he loves Tommy and how they’re soulmates and the universe pulled a sick one by putting them on each other’s paths and he’s planning to tell Tommy all that before he pops the question and he’s preparing this big romantic night for it with the most romantic flowers and the most romantic music and the most romantic ring at the most romantic place in all of Los Angeles and he’s roped in everyone at the station to help him, threatened Chim with cold-blooded murder if he doesn’t keep his mouth shut, made Eddie reassure him about every step of his plans not twice but thrice, talked to Bobby with blushing cheeks and fidgeting hands till Bobby gave him his absolute blessing. Hen, Maddie, Athena, they’re all in on it. He’s Ready to do it The Right Way.

Then at like 2pm on a lazy Tuesday afternoon his poor brain that has been overworking on this for weeks gets overloaded and crashes. And suddenly he Needs To Ask Tommy Right Now. Like, just like that the entire plan is overridden, and he doesn’t even process what he’s doing before he sends Eddie a text that just says, “I think I will do it now” and ditches his phone and marches to the garage where Tommy has been working on his truck all day.

The next thing we know Eddie is opening his door to a Buck who has his arms wrapped around himself and his big blue eyes are filled with tears. He looks like a puppy kicked a thousand ways and before Eddie can even open his mouth he cries out, “He said no,” and drops face first on Eddie’s couch. Eddie is like ???? but also “Well, I can’t deal with this shit on my own,” so he calls Hen and Chimney and ten minutes later Buck is sitting on the couch being interrogated by his best friends.

They’re all obviously confused.

Hen, disbelieving, asks, “He said no?”

Buck makes the most pathetic pitiful sound known to the human kind and nods.

Chimney, not really helpful, murmurs, “Well, that doesn’t make any sense,” to himself because he knows how much Tommy loves Buck and would say yes to marrying him months, hell, years ago.

Hen, trying to make sense of it all asks, “What did he exactly say?” because Chim is right, it doesn’t make a lick of sense.

Buck, still looking like a wet cat, goes, “He said it wasn’t the right thing for us.” His voice hitches and he moans, “He said it wasn’t s-smart.”

Hen and Chim shoot a look at each other. Eddie at this point is getting angry because what the fuck? Which is exactly what he says and Hen, the only one trying to be actually somewhat helpful, shakes her head like, “No, Eddie,” and then to Buck with what she hopes is a reassuring voice says, “Maybe he just doesn’t believe in the institution of marriage?”

Buck looks even more miserable at that and buries his face in his hands as he bemoans “Noooo,” and shakes his head like he’s grieving. “We t-talked about it before. At the beginning of our relationship, we both agreed we’d do that if it felt like the right time.” He slumps back on the couch like his life has just ended. “I t-thought it was the right time.”

Eddie, totally pissed off now because how are you gonna be with a guy for years, move in together, buy a house together, be committed to each other fully, and then say no to his marriage proposal, goes, “Oh fuck him. Do you want me to beat some sense into him?” Because damn, this is his best friend who looks absolutely crushed and Eddie will kick Tommy’s ass, fuck the fact that he’s really good at Muay Thai, he hasn’t seen Eddie’s wrath before.

Hen, still the sound of logic and seeing how Buck gets sadder each passing moment, stops him again. “We’re not beating anyone up.” Then says, “Buck, I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding. Tommy loves you.” Because yeah he does in the most sickening teen boy with a puppy crush way, so none of this makes sense and Hen’s brain is whirring but she’s not sure what’s happening yet. “And you love Tommy.”

Buck, hands covering his face again moans into his palms, “I do.” Then his hands drop, and his face shot with panic and fear he goes, “Wait?! Does this mean we broke up?”

A pissed-off, disbelieving noise leaves Eddie; Chim shoots another look towards Hen’s way; Hen just gives an awkward unsure smile. “No. No.” She tries to reassure him. “Of course not.”

“I mean,” Chim says with a shrug. “I don’t see how a relationship comes back from that, you know?”

This gets Buck start crying again.

“You’re. Not. Being. Helpful. Chim.” Hen mutters.

Eddie jumps up, “Oh, I’m beating him up for you.”

Buck’s wails get louder.

It all devolves from there with Buck going between hollering and sniffling and Eddie dead-set on confronting Tommy and Hen trying to do damage control with “We’re just gonna talk to him,” and Chim continuing to be absolutely unhelpful with his comments about how Tommy is great, and so cool, and perfect, and he’d make a great brother-in-law, and this doesn’t make any sense.

So, the four of them somehow find themselves marching towards the Buckley-Kinard house with Eddie at the helm and Buck looking like a pathetic mess between them. They’ve barely entered the front yard when Tommy bursts out the front door with his phone in his hand and he goes, “Where have you been?! I’ve been calling you for hou—”

“I trusted you, man!” Eddie shouts, voice echoing through the street.

Tommy stops in his tracks. He takes in the sight of his friends who are all shooting him deadly (and confused) glares. Then he looks at his boyfriend and finds him avoiding his eyes, keeping his gaze at his feet like all the happiness has been sucked out of his entire universe. Brows furrowing in confusion, Tommy takes a step towards him. “Evan.” He tilts his chin up and sucks in a breath when he sees the tear tracks on Buck’s face. His own face crumbles, now in concern. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

Eddie lets out a mirthless laugh. “Pretending you don’t know, huh?”

Tommy looks at him, at Chim, at Hen. “Don’t know what?”

“Oh, you’re a bigger asshole than I thought, Kinard.” Eddie spits in his face, his head shaking. “Acting like nothing’s wrong after saying no to a guy’s proposal so cruelly.”

Tommy freezes. His gaze snaps to Buck with a confused, “What?” but Buck is avoiding his eyes again. “What proposal?” Tommy asks. “Evan didn’t propose to me.”

At this point all tired and beaten Buck sighs, “It’s okay, Tommy.”

“No. No—” Tommy shakes his head. “What are you talking about?”

Buck shrugs. “We don’t have to talk about it now.”

“Evan.”

Sighing again, Buck finally looks up. “Look, I get it. We can talk about it later.” He chews at his lip. “Right?” Because he’s still not sure if they’re broken up or not and god he really wishes they’re not because marriage is a dumb institution rooted in patriarchy to maintain and reinforce traditional gender roles and they didn’t even let two men marry till a decade ago, so it’s not like they need anyone’s acknowledgement and all he needs is Tommy, but also he had the absolute perfect ring picked out and he doesn’t know if he can get a refund on it, and calling Tommy his husband would be so fucking nice, and maybe he has been dreaming about that for the past however many years.

At this point, he’s tearing up again, so Tommy cups his face and brushes away some of the tears, before saying with the biggest gentlest eyes, “We can talk about anything you want. But… Baby, what proposal?”

Buck sniffles. “Earlier. W-when I asked you in the garage.”

Tommy frowns harder because that doesn’t make any sense. “You didn’t ask me to marry you, Evan.”

“Yes, I did, Tommy,” Buck huffs.

“No, you asked me if I wanted to take a vacation.”

“I think I know what I asked.”

“You said you wanted to go on a trip!”

“That’s not what I said!”

“Okay, you didn’t say trip! You said, you said something like if I wanted to take a new journey with you! Embark on adventure or something. You said you wanted a travel companion for a voyage!”

“Lifelong voyage.” Buck murmurs, lips pursing and arms crossing together. “For our grand adventure together.”

No one says anything for a minute as Buck avoids their eyes and scuffs his feet in the dirt.

At last, as the person with any semblance of intelligence Hen says, “Buck. Did you use any word related to marriage? Like “husband” or “marry” or even “matrimony”?” Her eyebrows rises. “Anything that’s not a metaphor?”

Buck, face red up to the hairline now, just shrugs. “I had a-a speech, okay? I was n-nervous and it was long so I had to paraphrase.”

Finally, Hen sighs, not unkindly.

Chim chuckles, kinda unkindly.

Eddie looks almost as embarrassed as Buck and murmurs, “Sorry, man,” to Tommy as the realization hits it was just his best friend being a huge dumbass and Tommy actually didn’t do anything to deserve a beating.

Tommy, his entire focus on his boyfriend and not paying them any attention, pulls Buck’s arms down and lifts his face up again. He gives him a smile. “I said no because I thought you were asking to go on a trip, Evan,” he says softly. “And that we’ve just got a mortgage together and can’t afford one.” He shakes his head. “I was covered in grease, Pearl Jam was playing in the background, I wasn’t paying attention.”

Still looking abashed but at least not snotty anymore, Buck says, “N-no. No. It’s my fault. I’m sorry, Tommy,” he says with a shrug.

Tommy smiles again. “It’s okay, baby.” For a moment, he rubs his boyfriend’s arms up and down, then says, “Sooo…”

Buck, realizing the faint pink on his boyfriend’s face, looks at him with the roundest eyes. “You mean…?”

“Well…” Tommy shrugs. “Are you gonna ask me for real or what?”

The sun dawns on Buck’s face. His eyes go bright with fresh but happier tears. “Yea-yeah.” He nods frantically. “Tommy. W-will you marry me?”

“Yes,” Tommy says. Buck pounces on him with a kiss that gets a surprised moan from him as Hen, Chimney, and Eddie start clapping and Buck cries again and so does Tommy and later that night, Buck gives him the perfect ring he had picked out and come Saturday they actually go to the greatest restaurant in LA and Tommy listens as Buck explains every step of his original proposal and all the metaphors he’s curated carefully for his speech.

The end.

[mllemaenad]

Listening to Wyll's backstory in context of all the details we're acquiring on devil's contracts and soul selling is fascinating.

See - I listened to Lann Tarv's three tales to get my soul coins. I felt bad for making Karlach listen to that, obviously, but to be honest I didn't even want the coins that much. I actually wanted the stories. I wanted a better understanding of how this works.

And what I'm learning is - for the gods (and godlike beings) of this world, cruelty seems to be the point. I mean - it's possible there's a god in this world I wouldn't want to stab to death with a rusty fork, but if so I have not met them yet.

These beings have the power to save people and places, to change lives, to do anything. And when someone asks them to - they demand a terrible price. But they don't just demand a price. They subvert the original request in such a way that they utterly fail to deliver on the original promise.

An abused woman wishes to be loved - and her true love appears, but dies instantly. A man wishes to save his children from starvation, and ends up personally growing masses of meat on his own body - not only painful for him, but forcing his children into survival cannibalism, which they were trying to avoid.

Auntie Ethel works the same way. Every one of her customers is left in a tortured state, while Ethel still takes her payment.

The idea is that the person must come to regret their wish long before the payment comes due. Every cry for help must be met with a boot to the face. Or else the mortals will get uppity? Or something.

What is interesting is how consciously Wyll defies that. And how much Mizora is dancing around, trying to force him into that state of miserable regret.

Wyll was manipulated into selling his soul. He was a kid, and he was summoned into a terrible situation - and in that moment, he could see no other way to save the city. Mizora did need to save Baldur's Gate to serve her boss's purposes, so she couldn't take that victory from him - but she did everything she could to take the joy of it.

He didn't get respect, or admiration, or his father's pride for saving the city. He lost his home and his family. He was assumed to have done something monstrous because he was denied an opportunity to defend himself.

That was supposed to fill him with bitterness and regret - but he got to work building his own life instead. By the time you run into him, the Blade of Frontiers is a hero of some renown. He's remade himself, and found a way to enjoy what his powers can do, however he came by them.

So that didn't work.

Then Mizora sent him after Karlach, and that was a mission tailored to break him. Karlach is kind and heroic herself, and that the start she has been sold into slavery, mutilated and forced to fight in a war against her will. If Wyll killed her, and then found out who she really was, then he betrayed everything the Blade of Frontiers is supposed to stand for - and he would lose the life he made for himself.

But he didn't, and that didn't work either. He's got a friend, now, who at least knows part of what he's dealing with.

So Mizora gave him demonic features. That would destroy the life he's made for himself, because no one would trust him to help them.

Except now Wyll basically goes nowhere on his own, and a small army of people can attest that he got those horns and eyes as punishment for being a good man. Mizora might be able to shut his mouth, but she can't silence his friends - and the group absolutely have shouting sessions about everything. Wyll's horns become a battle scar, like his missing eye, and nothing more.

And beyond that, if you are playing as a heroic character, a significant throughline in the game's story is the journey of the tiefling refugees. The story makes it clear that these people experience a constant barrage of racism, due to their appearance and "demonic" heritage. It also makes it abundantly clear that this prejudice is entirely undeserved - they're just people, with virtues and flaws like everyone else, and what is happening to them is terrible. So Wyll turns up to assist a bunch of people whom he now at least somewhat resembles - and with Karlach along, you have two people in the group who technically count as "infernal", but haven't got an evil bone in either of their bodies.

Mizora created solidarity. Oops.

Wyll is deeply suspicious of gods and higher powers. He doesn't want to make more deals with devils. When Elminster arrives to tell Gale what Mystra demands of him, he explicitly says he does not do religion. When you get Mizora to agree to let his contract expire in six months, he starts by casually invoking the gods - but switches to thanking the player character instead, because he knows who helped, and who did not.

But he utterly refuses to regret the pact he made. That can be a struggle. He clearly misses his dad, and would like that relationship repaired. The fact that he was transformed very much against his will is clearly a source of distress from him.

But if he regrets, then Mizora wins. That's it. Game over. She gets what she wanted all along. So he doesn't.

The main companion characters all have this kind of problem, and naturally have different ways of dealing with it. You have characters like Shadowheart and Lae'zel, who were indoctrinated as children, or Gale, who was literally seduced by one of these nightmare deities - and with them you have to start out by convincing them they they were the wronged party in the first place.

But Wyll knows exactly what game he's playing, and he's been screaming defiance the whole time. It's just that, in his case, the "defiance" is grinning and carrying on every time Mizora inflicts some more bullshit on him.

[pit-and-the-pen]

My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys

A/N: Part Two to Requited Love

I know people have been waiting for this. And the poll is still active but I couldn’t wait any longer. There are two endings and this is the unofficial (in terms of my ongoing Sunbeam series) Azriel ending but… just bare with me

Read the other ending Here

Warnings: Angst, Hurt/Comfort , implied smut (not with Az)

WC:4.4 K

divider by @cafekitsune

The next morning I was in Rhys office. He barely even looked up from the paper strewn over his desk before I spoke. 

“I’m going back home.” 

He sighed, leaning back into his chair. His eyes raked over me, “Does this have anything to do with why Azriel was so huffy this morning?” His eyebrow raised and I felt the anger I’d been trying to quell since last night rise its head up like a sleeping dragon.

“Fuck off. Let him be mad if he wants to be mad.” I snapped. 

“Mad isn’t exactly how I would put it,” He paused looking at me. “What happened?” The High Lord questioned. I sighed not having the strength to recount the events from last night. 

“Nothing but the inevitable.” he frowned at my non-answer but didn’t press any harder. 

“I’ll miss you. We all will.” He said finally. I nodded. 

“You all should visit.” Not an I’ll visit. No. If I could avoid it I would never step foot into this miserable court ever again. 

I was gone by mid-morning. Mor had helped me winnow the things I wanted to take with me. What they did with the rest wasn’t any of my concern. Rhys or Feyre had bought it all for me anyways, let them decide what to do with their money. 

Once I had gotten settled into my room, I hugged Mor goodbye and thanked her for her help. She just gave me a tighter hug and told me she would visit soon. 

It was two weeks before I could see Helion.Two weeks of settling back into my court that I loved so dearly. Helion

 He was visiting Dawn court for some trade agreement that needed to be signed. I came by every day, asking if he’d returned you. His second would just silently shake her head at me. And I would stomp back to my room like an angry babe. 

Two weeks of checking before I finally saw her nod her head and I had to stop myself from running into Helions office. I had the control to at least knock on the door but not much else. I quickly shut the door behind me as he called me in. 

“Sunbeam!” He called out when saw my face. “I had hoped the rumors of you moving back home were true.” He walked around the desk and gave me a brisk hug. Very out of character for him. 

“You’re not an easy man to schedule an appointment with, Helion.” I smiled warmly at the High Lord of my court. 

“If you wanted a piece of me, you only had to say the words and I would have come running darling.” There's the flirt I remember. I thought, rolling my eyes.

“But judging by your urgency in requesting a meeting that my second expressed to me, I’m going to assume that’s not what you wanted to see me for.”

My smile dropped as I braced myself for the question I needed to ask him.

“I need you to break a mating bond”

His mouth fell open. For once in my life, Helion was speechless. “I don’t know if I can even do that. Are you sure that’s what you want?” His eyes saw right through me. I threw my head back, a sad laugh bubbling past my lips. 

“Yes. No. Gods I don’t know. I just don’t want it to hurt like this forever.” I felt treacherous tears starting to fall down my face. Helion grabbed my arms gently before I could wipe them away. 

“I know you well enough to know that you don’t run away from hard things.” He held me against his chest as I really started to sob. 

“Helion. Every second that I’m away from him it kills me. I’m over here dying inside over some male who only ever saw me as a second option.” 

“Then he’s an idiot. But the mother still saw fit to make you two mates. Give it some more thought, you’re clearly still not fully decided. I’ll do some research to see if it’s even possible and if you still want to, I’ll be here to help.” I nodded my thanks into his shirt. He takes my head between his hands and uses his thumbs to wipe the tears still streaking down my face. He gives me a gentle kiss on the top of my head before I walk out of the room. 

Helion was powerful, but apparently not powerful enough to break a mating bond. Many had tried but no one had ever successfully achieved it without one or both parties dying. As much as I resented Azriel, I didn’t want to kill him, nor myself to be rid of him. So I would just keep ignoring that little golden feeling in my chest, the feeling that seemed to be growing more everyday. 

I fell into a familiar routine back in the Day Court. I took up my old job as a researcher. My days were spent surrounded by the massive libraries of my home court. People would come to us with questions and it was our job to use the knowledge at our disposal to find them answers. It kept me busy at the very least, but I did have to admit that I love doing it. I felt more useful here than I ever had at the Night Court. Pangs of sadness would rip through me when someone snarked in a way that made me think of Cassian. When someone would smirk and I could only picture Rhysand standing in front of me as he beat me in chess. The art was so beautiful that I longed to show Feyre if only to see that twinkle in eye as she dissected the colors and shading used. 

Worst of all, I truly did miss Azriel. Time had given my anger less of an edge. Thinking of him didn’t hurt the way it once had. Didn’t have me spiraling in on myself until I was nothing more than sobs. I still wasn’t ready to forgive him but I wasn’t angry anymore and that had to count for something right? And it had nothing with the small feelings I would occasionally receive from the other end of the bond. I don’t know if he was consciously doing it or if it was purely because of the depth of the emotions he felt. 

I stopped looking for ways to sever the bond between us. Content with just letting it sit unreturned in my chest for the rest of my very long life. 

Someone calling my name pulled me from my musing. One of the messengers, Dia, smiled brightly up at me. “Hey sunbeam. Helion asked me to deliver this to you.” I took the golden envelope from her. I thanked her and she turned around, leaving me back to my books. 

I slid my finger under the seal and pulled out the letter. He was flirty even in a letter. He had requested that I accompany him to the latest ball he was hosting. Helion, ever the charmer, even placed boxes for me to check yes or no. I giggled to myself at the juvenile nature of it, but checked yes with the quill sitting next to me. 

The ball was just a few days away and I was so excited as dress after dress were brought into my room for me to try on. The one that ended up catching my eye was a floor length glossimer dress, such a pale golden color it looked almost like sunlight itself. The bottom was dyed a light pink color that flowed into it seamlessly. It took my breath away as the last button snapped into place. It fit like a glove and I knew instantly this was the dress I had to wear. 

Facing the mirror, I was blown away by the person standing in front of me. I didn’t recognize her. My hair was pinned up into a flowing updo at the base of my neck. I caught eyes in the mirror and whirled around to see Helion racking his eyes over my figure.

He let out a low whistle and I blushed, adjusting my tiara. I walked over to him and he held out his hand for me, twirling me around dramatically when I took it. “No one will be able to take their eyes off of you, Sunbeam.” His eyes hungirly raked over me, “If you ever reconsider my offer. I would take you to bed in a heartbeat. Just say the words.” I pushed his shoulder, I didn’t doubt his words. 

“Keep your pants on Helion. We have a ball to get to.” 

“I’m High Lord. I can be late.” His pupils had dilated and I rolled my eyes, pushing him out the door before I linked my arm into his. 

The ball was as lavish as I had expected. There was much to celebrate and this was mostly to welcome the new High Lord. Eris. Beron had finally died a few months back and Eris had officially stepped into the role with grace. The autumn court once known for its cruelty seemed to be taking a new direction and as I talked to nobility from the court, it was for the better. I had gotten to know him over the years, his frequent visits to the Night Court, plus a few flirty exchanges that I always brushed off, while he was helping us during the war softened me to him. Learning the true events of that night with Mor. 

I locked eyes with Eris across the room. He had been heartbreakingly handsome when he was just High Fae but as a High Lord? His hair had grown slightly longer, just touching his shoulders. Dressed in a deep maroon suit that showed off every single one of his muscles. The permanent scowl that had been etched into his face had been replaced with a smile that radiated comfort. My feet seemed to move without deciding to. Eris kept his eyes locked onto mine as I got closer. My cheeks heated up under his intense stare. 

“Hi little sunbeam,” Honeyed words wrapped around me. “Seems like you’re no longer hiding in the shadows.” He held out his hand, eyes flickering to the dance floor. I smiled up at him and gently placed my hand in his. 

His touch was firm and the warmth of his power radiated off of him. He clutched my waist, pulling me flush to his front. I felt every plane of his toned body pressed against me and goosebumps broke out across my skin having nothing to do with the temperature in the room. The two of us gilded across the floor. I could feel the eyes of the room on us but I only had eyes for the male in front of me. 

“If I had known you danced this good, I would have pulled you out of that miserable court a long time ago.” He spoke into the shell of my ear.  “I’ll never understand what the Shadowslinger was thinking, even I could smell the mating bond on you. Plus, one look at me with those beautiful doe eyes and I would have been putty in your hands.” He nipped at my earlobe and I felt it deep in my stomach. But I couldn’t help that twinge in my gut that made this feel wrong. Even with all of him pressed up against me. Eris would only have to say the words and any fae in Prythian would be on their knees before them. Even I had to admit he was devastatingly handsome. So I fought against that little voice screaming at me and leaned into his touch more. 

Before I knew what had happened, I felt Eris’ warmth leave me. I shuddered at the new chill in the air. When I looked around, I saw shadows wrapped around my torso, lovingly coiled around my waist. I almost smiled at their weight. 

“Keep your hands off of her.” Azriel growled at the High Lord woh did nothing but smirk at me as I was pulled from the room onto a balcony just outside the ballroom. 

 “You had no right!” I screeched at him, wrenching my arm from his grasp. Anger seethed through me. I felt my palms heat up from the light trying to escape from them. He went to grab my arm and I ripped it back from his reach. “Don’t you fucking dare.” 

“Please.” Was all he said and suddenly it was like that night all over again. Me pouring my heart out and all he could say was please. 

“Please what, Azriel? Is that all you know how to do, beg and plead. For what? Was breaking my heart once not enough for you.” 

“Gods. What do you want me to say?” He ran his hands through his hair. He looked like he was about to lose it. Good. “Do you want to hear how I was fucking terrified. How any good thing that I had ever received had been taken away from me? That when I felt that twinge in my chest, that I knew what it meant but prayed to the gods that it wasn’t that.” I went to start in on him again. “No. Not because of that, because I knew that you were the one person who could utterly destroy me. Mor was a pass time. She was convenient and it would have made sense for us to be together in some capacity. Then Elain showed up. I saw so much of her in you, she was sweet and kind but she wasn’t you. Looking back, I don’t even know why I was so hung up on her. I’m not saying I wasn’t stupid because I was and I said some awful things to you. I said them because I knew that was the only thing that would get you to realize I would never deserve you.” 

“Stop. Just stop. I’m sure you’ve rehearsed this all before but do you actually think I’m stupid enough to believe it?” I spit out between my teeth. 

“No. I don’t think you’re stupid at all. The exact opposite. Yet for some reason you never ended up breaking the bond. Which would have been the smart thing to do. You deserve that, I deserved that.” 

That made me pause. “How did you…Did Helion tell you?” Angry at the idea of Helion running to Azriel with that information. 

“Helion told Rhys who passed it on to me. Rhys explained what would most likely happen if you decided to break it and before he could tell Helion he had lost his mind, I told him if that’s what you wanted to do I would accept that.” He said plainly. A part of me knew he was telling the truth. 

“Don’t be stupid. You would have died if I broke the bond. It wasn’t the same as rejecting it. That type of magic broke the very part of you it formed to.” I couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth right now. 

“I know. And I figured that if you were in enough pain to take that risk, to risk you dying, then I should be willing to risk it for a situation I had put us both in.” My mind was reeling at his words.

“That night..” I started, he interrupted me.

“I said the most vile things I could think of. I panicked when you told me about the bond. If you could feel it too, I knew nothing good could have come from that so I pushed you away.” I shook my head, as if I could shake his words away from my ears. 

“You seemed so shocked when I told you.” 

His head sunk down, voice small “I was shocked because no part of me believed, believes, that I deserve you in that way.” When he stepped forward, I didn’t step away. Mind too busy catching up with his words. “Please say something. “ 

I turned my eyes up to look at him. Hazel eyes soft sparkling with unshed tears. I wanted to rip into him. I truly did. Some sick part of me wanted to make him hurt like he had hurt me but I know that wouldn’t fix anything here. 

“You don’t get to do this to me. You don’t get to say all the right things and just have me forgive you. You don’t get to say that you love me after everything you did.” He sighed. Leaning his head on top of mine. I frowned at the contact, but didn’t push him away, refusing to melt into him. “Whatever your reason. You said all those things that you knew would hurt me, you said them and some part of you had to believe them.” 

“I know. There isn’t a day that I don’t regret everything that I said, everything I had put you through over all those years. I took you for granted and I didn’t realize how much I loved you until you were gone.” I wanted to push him back but something in me let his words sink into my bones. Because the moment I looked into his eyes I felt the other side of the bond snap into place. I gasped at the feeling I had spent so long ignoring. The bond seemed to sing in the air around us. My own sunlight flickering under my palms as I felt the sincerity of his words pump through the bond. The feeling was foreign but warm. It wrapped around me like a blanket, soothing my tense muscles. I didn’t realize how much the empty bond had been weighing on my shoulders. 

“You know this doesn’t change anything.” Was all I said and as he looked at me again, I knew that was a lie. “We can’t start over. There's no way to take back everything you said, everything you did” I said once I regained my ability to talk. His face sank completely.”I won’t break the bond. But I’m not accepting it either.” I ignored that kernel of hope I felt from him. 

“I’ll wait as long as it takes.” He leaned closer to me, taking my face in his hands. I didn’t fight him as he tilted my head up to meet his eyes. His eyes flickered to my lips but he just pressed a chaste kiss to the top of my head “I would cut off my own wings if you said it would make you happy.” He swore. A shudder racked through at the sincerity in his words. I pushed out of grasp and walked back down to the ball still in full swing. 

--------------------------

A strong pair of arms wrapped tighter around me as I started to rouse from my dreams. I snuggled deeper into the blankets tucked around me and laughed at the hand starting to creep higher up my naked chest. Rolling over I was met with baby blue eyes. Sol smirked at me as I stopped his wandering hands. “Was last night not enough for you?” I joked and he beamed at me. He rolled me over so I was underneath him

“How could I ever get enough of you?” He started kissing a trail down my neck and I groaned as a rush of desire flooded my veins. Ignoring the tug of anger that followed it. I hooked my leg around Sol’s waist and pulled him down to me. 

I smiled as I walked into work, willing the flush in my cheeks to tame itself as I settled amongst the books still sprawled across my desk. 

“Busy morning?” Aurora said, covering her mouth as she tried to hide her smile. 

“Very.” I returned, laughing at her faux scandalized look. 

“I don’t know how you manage to pull yourself away from him. If that was me I would ri-” 

“Aurora!” I chastised her. Smacking her arm playfully. My mind drifted off to the activities this morning. While we weren’t official, it had become a recurring event of Sol and I waking up tangled in my sheets. I was lucky to get out of the door on time those mornings. He kept pushing for something more solid. But some nagging part of me just couldn’t do it. I hated the idea of leading him, and that wasn’t my intention when this all started. He had caught my eye after that conversation with Azriel at the ball and it took one flirty joke before my lips were crashing against his. 

Sol was sweet and kind. He had been patient with me as I sorted out all of my own shit. Never giving me push back when I shut down the conversation of what exactly I wanted from this. Which I truthfully didn’t ever have an answer for. He put up with me pulling him into my bed night after night but I knew eventually he was going to grow tired of this arrangement. My stomach churned at the thought of now spoiled memories of his hands roaming over my body. I sighed, laying my head against my desk. Letting the cool wood calm my nerves. 

It came later than I had expected it, honestly. He was kinder than I deserved for the months I had led him on. His mate. I could laugh at the irony. But I wished him well with one last searing kiss and that was that. I truly did want the best for him, and I knew that wasn’t me. Not at my current state. 

I retreated into myself after that. Maybe there's something wrong with me. It was hard to keep those thoughts at bay. Everyone always found better things than me. Always the second choice. Those words I had spilled to Azriel had  come from the deepest part of my soul. All the cruel things he said to me were replaying in a loop until I felt tears spilling down my face. 

A frantic knock at my door pulled me from my despair. I didn’t even have time to wipe away the tears before I saw Helion standing in my doorway. His face held none of his usual charm. No, standing before me was Helion, not the playboy but the High Lord. 

“It’s Rhys.” That was all he had to say for me to take off sprinting along the halls. Helion could barely keep up with me and I wretched the door to his study open. 

Rhys didn’t so much as look up as I barreled into the office. I reached him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“What's wrong?” And Rhys just broke in front of me. He explained about Feyre’s pregnancy. The wings that would most likely kill her. I felt my stomach drop to my feet.

“How can I help, Rhys?” I saw the pain in his eyes. 

“Just try to find if this has ever been attempted. Or if there's a way to make this safer for her.” Rhys looked like a shell of himself and I knew I would do whatever I had to do to never see him look so broken ever again. I knew what I needed to do as hard as the words were going to be to get out.

“I’ll come back with you.” He looked like I had grown three heads. “Between my research and healing, I’ll be the next best thing after Helion to help Feyre with this. Please. Let me help her survive this.” His eyes welled with tears as he just nodded. 

“I can’t thank you enough.” He wrapped his arms tightly around me. The laugh that left my lips was tense. 

“Thank me once we save her.”

“Of course. It’s the least I can do after you helped me so much.” I placed a hand over his shaking one. 

I didn’t pack much. Most of which was as many books that Helion could bother parting with. All on various topics, Illyrian anatomy, childbirth and healing. I’d been healing since I was a child. With Madja by my side, even if we couldn’t find a way to safely deliver the baby, we could prevent Feyre from bleeding out. 

Rhys came the next morning to winnow me to the Night Court. I said goodbyes for now to my new friends. Helion had given me a tight hug as he thanked me for doing what he could not. 

Feyre greeted me exuberantly, crushing me against her as well as she could at the bump jutting out from her stomach. She was glowing. From the look of her, she didn’t have too much longer to go and I felt lightheaded at the thought of how much research I had to do in not much time. 

I was standing up on the roof, looking out at the lights of Velaris when I felt him behind me. I didn’t turn around as he joined me near the railing. 

“Thank you for being here. Rhys already seems more comfortable, more like himself.” My nod was the only acknowledgement I gave him that I had heard him. He signed and stayed looking out at the skyline. 

“Look...” He started. I cut him off.

“Don’t do this again, Azriel.” There was no anger in my voice this time. Just the voice of something who was so broken, broken because of this man. “We can’t go back and change the past. We can’t start over and you’ll never be able to undo the pain you caused. “

“Let me try. Please. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.” His tone was just as raw as mine. And something in me broke. The part that was tired of pretending my feelings went away. I knew deep down in my heart that this was another chance. 

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to love you the way I did before.” I risked a glance over to him and I was blown away by the breathtaking smile that graced his face. 

““I’ll take you any way that you’ll have me” I knew he was telling the truth. It was there under the stars I realized, though it wouldn’t happen over night, loving Azriel would be as easy as breathing.

[llostwriter]

Never Meant To Be | SVSSS Fanfic

- Nonbinary Reader

When you found out that you were reincarnated as a wandering orphan, forcing you to steal to survive. You lost count of the times that you would get beaten up upon getting caught by the villagers. The looks of disgust from the villagers upon seeing your raggy clothes and dirty face were imprinted on your small mind. Intelligence was nothing in this world; all that mattered was the ranking of an individual. There were times when you ended up starving on the streets or almost freezing to death.

It wasn't even surprising that, soon enough, the human traffickers found you. The original owner of the body was found by the human traffickers before you were even in the body. The human traffickers make weekly visits to the orphans, demanding that the orphans give them the taels that the orphans gathered from begging on the street. The ones that weren't able to give any received a beating. All the good spots in the areas were taken by the other orphans, while you were left with the crappiest area, which is mostly deserted.

The income was so low that you even decided to leave this village and beg elsewhere. The traffickers caught you again, and you received another beating. Only then did you learn that the orphans are only allowed to beg within the village.

Every week of the first few months, you have received a beating from the traffickers.

The orphans could hardly fend for themselves, so they didn't even bother sharing any of their stuff with you. Resorting to having to even fight them for some ointments. Yes, there would always be some additional bruises after the fight; however, you did get your ointment. You know that your life is miserable the moment you even have to fight a dog for a blanket. Even the white cat from the village council’s madam gives you the disdainful treatment. Hissing at you whenever you look at its pearly white fur.

You were envious of the white cat. It gets better treatment and is cleaner than the combination of you and the other orphans. You remembered watching out of the village council madam’s window, drooling at the lotus cake being fed to the white cat daily, who later licked its paw.

One day, in the village, there was a huge fire that ended up spreading out to the borders of the village. Everybody was evacuating, while you stood confused and helpless. Almost accepting the new path of death, ending this misery of yours. You would have never expected that a cultivator would rescue you. Your memories of his appearances were blurry. The only thing that you have left of him is the ripped-off piece of his light green robe.

Away from the human traffickers, your life was somewhat peaceful. You would be found stuffing your mouth with mysterious berries that you found in the forest. The stomachaches taught you which berries to pick and which berries not to pick. Cleansing the filth off yourself in the rivers.

You find yourself in a new village and hear from the villagers about Cang Qiong accepting new disciples. That would be a good chance to turn your life around.

There was something familiar about that name, but you were not able to find out exactly what it was.

——-

You watched the large crowds of hundreds of people. There were some other orphans, some kids dressed in rich silk robes, and some kids from the casual village household. The task was plain and simple; it was just digging holes. A few of the rich folks were complaining of dirtying their robes: “This is too filthy!”. “I can’t handle this any more!” “I’m telling my mommy and daddy about this!”. “This is so unfair!” “Why am I doing the work of a slave?!” so many complaints.

So they ended up ordering their servants to do it for them, resulting in the rich folks getting disqualified. “Wait until my parents hear about this! They’ll shut this mountain completely down!” but as expected, those complaints were all barks and no bites.

The sun beat down on your back as you hunched over the earth, your long, pointed nails digging into the clay. Untrim nails for months, maybe even years; you were not sure since you only occupied the body a few months ago.

Each thrust of your hand was met with gritty resistance. The earth, dry and stubborn, yielded only grudgingly. Tiny particles of clay, fine as dust, clung to your nails, causing a gritty discomfort that snaked up your arms, sending chills through you. Regardless of your gender, the sensation was maddening, a constant reminder of the tenacity of the very ground you were attempting to conquer.

There were some smart kids who dug platforms stacked upon each other like stairs from the soil. That is to make it easier to get out of the hole.

However, that also wastes a lot of time, and time is precious.

Your brow furrowed, and you bit your lip, the scent of nature mingling with the dust that clung to your clothes. The discomfort was a constant, a nagging reminder of the futility of your task. Yet, you dug on. It was more than just a hole you were creating; it was a statement, one that would completely change the turn of fate.

Each inch dug was a battle—a slow, agonizing victory. The earth, unforgiving and relentless, fought back, the damp clay clinging to your nails like a tenacious parasite. But you pushed on; you drew in grim concentration, your eyes burning with a singular focus.

You knew the pain and discomfort were necessary parts of the process. It was the price you paid for the freedom of creation, for defying the expectations of practicality. The discomfort was a reminder that you were pushing boundaries and challenging the very fabric of reality.

Finally, with a groan, the earth gave way. By the time the ending was announced, the hole, deep and narrow, was complete.

You looked around, and that's when you saw him. You identified him from the crowd by his green robes. The feeling of familiarity and nausea hit you like a wave.

Your survivor, your angel, is the one that’s going to drag you out of this hellhole.

He noticed you; his paper fan spread out, covering half of his face. He narrowed his eyes at you indifferently.

—-

Being a disciple of Qing Jing Peak Lord was not that bad; your life clearly improved. You don't have to fight other orphans or animals for anything. All living expenses were provided for you. You shared your daily tasks with the other disciples. During your free time, you’ll spend time watching your Shizun from afar. Aside from that, the looks of admiration and gratitude were obvious.

The wind carries the rumors.

It has only been a few months since you became a disciple, and you have already heard your share of the rumors surrounding your savior.

The rumors surrounding your savior were outrageous; you would never bring yourself to believe them, even if there were doubts surrounding them.

in the following months. You have always kept a safe distance from your savior. You can’t deny that there were desires of wanting to have physical contact with your savior. It was pure nonetheless, but it still felt wrong. Even after you left behind your past of being an orphan, you still felt filthy and tainted. You were disgusted by yourself. It wasn’t long before you realized that you had romantic feelings for your savior.

But you never have the courage to confess. Your savior was close, yet felt so distant at the same time.

——

A young disciple named Luo Binghe had just arrived, and he was taken in as your Shidi. From the start, he showed himself to be a hardworking and persistent teenager, always displaying politeness towards everyone. However, despite his good nature, your savior began to treat him unfairly, burdening him with an excessive number of tasks compared to the other disciples. This sudden change in attitude was puzzling.

Witnessing Luo Binghe being disciplined unjustly, you found yourself tending to his wounds and gradually forming a close bond with him. Despite the mistreatment, he never blamed Shizun for his hardships. As time went on, the male disciples following your savior joined in on the unfair treatment, directing their animosity towards Luo Binghe by assigning him all the unwanted tasks. Despite this, Luo Binghe continued to fulfill his duties without complaint.

Nonetheless, it pains you to see your savior acting like a monster.

——

You were unsure how it turned out this way. One day, your savior’s personality completely changed. It was almost like they were completely different people. It was also the first time that your ‘savior’ approached you willingly, apart from missions. You were happy about it, but something felt horribly wrong at the same time.

You have always had that feeling since you first became a disciple. It was wrong for a disciple to have romantic feelings for their Shizun.

This was different; it was almost as if this was an imposter living in your savior’s body; their aura was different. The imposter gives out a more outgoing and calm vibe, while your savior gives out a more indifferent and cold vibe. There is no possible way that one person could change in the span of hardly one day.

But how is it possible that somebody would look exactly like your savior? Did your savior have a twin brother? If yes, where is your savior right now? There’s no possible way that your savior would just abandon his disciples and his title without a single word.

The imposter attempted to mend your relationship; however, it didn’t work. The longer that the imposter stayed, the more hatred that you grew for him.

At the same time, you were glad that he’s now nicer to his disciples and Shidi Luo Binghe. But you simply can't get over the fact that the imposter is using your savior’s body without any permission.

Months turned into years, and your hatred toward the imposter grew numb, just like your feelings. There was no use for it anymore. You ended up leaving the peak and becoming a wandering cultivator.

When your Shidi Luo Binghe married the imposter, they invited you, hoping that you would come. Which you did.

As you watched the smiles imprinted on both your Shidi Luo Binghe and the imposter, Only then did you realize that you had officially lost your savior. Forever.

[xenizaation]

permanent

pairing: fem! reader x choi san (ft kim hongjoong)

genre: angst, friends to lovers, smut

general warnings: depictions of a depressive state, mourning of partner, self-blame and slight ptsd

sexual warnings: dirty talk, pet names, manual stimulation, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie,

word count: 12.6k

summary: they say moving on is hard. you find that it's even harder when in the process of it, you have to accept your feelings for your friend as well.

less important a/n: ok so this was supposed to be like 5k long 🙃🙃...chile, anyways. uhm, this came from me bottling my emotions up for the last 5 months and I just wanted to let some of my suffering out in some kind of way. even if it is far from what I feel (I feel the need to specify that the events related below aren't inspired from my life, happily so). read at your own discretion, for I have tried my best to make you feel horny and miserable at the same time 🥰🥰🥰 stay safe xoxo

a/n from long later: hi i wrote this about a year ago and i found it in my drafts and hey why wouldn't i post it after not posting something in ages? haha. enjoy! altough it's probably rlly bad and full of mistakes hihi, i ain't reading this again to correct it. i love you muah

______________________________________________________

The cold air felt like needles poking at your bare skin. You ran as fast as you could, barefoot in the woods, feeling every little scratch that was tearing open the skin of your soles and staining it with fresh blood. Your lungs were holding hostage a fire as you were inhaling the cold night air, and the sweat you felt dribbling down your face and back was only of help to make you feel even colder. You looked behind, once, twice, and then a third time too, slowly reducing your pace until it came to a halt.

"What am I running away from?" you ask yourself looking around. There was nothing, no one after you. So why were you running for your life? Your heart starts to beat faster as you hear screams coming from deep within the trees. But you don't run. You can't run anymore. You just fall to the ground, embracing your knees to your chest.

"Me!"

You don't turn around. That voice is way too familiar to make you turn around. Your mouth hangs open as you try to scream but no sound comes out as your muffled moans remain drowned in the deepest point if your throat.

You gasp for air as you wake up shaking your head relentlessly, in order to try to snap yourself back to the reality you're in- so your heart would stop beating so damn fast. You groan as you look over at the watch on your nightstand and see it spell 3:37 AM. You grab your phone from next to it and shut your eyes closed at the sudden brightness the screen displays. You manage to decrease it and open your contacts.

"Still awake?" you ask, and you know you shouldn't. He always offers you more than you can give back, more than you deserve. But you can't help yourself. You cannot deny yourself the little peace you still have in your life.

"Yeah, wassup?"

"Can you call?" you hit send and it's a matter of seconds between him receiving the message, him reading the message and then his name popping up on your screen. You answer.

"Again?" San questions from the other end of the phone. You only hum in affirmation. He sighs softly as you lay down on your side, phone trapped between your ear and the pillow. You hear the clicking of the keyboard and mouse clearly, he must be working late again. And yet he always answers. More than many people you've met did for you.

"Tell me a story." you ask once again. For the...well you've lost count.

"You know, one day I'm going to be out of stories," he answers and lets out a chuckle. Bathing in your silence, he takes his time to think about what he could tell you. As he begins, you close your eyes and imagine whatever he is helping you picture inside your head. Be it the times when he was a little kid and used to walk with his grandparents down the side of a river, or the times he was a teen and was always struggling to get out of trouble, San always gave you a vast amount of details that made you worship his each and every story. And they always made you dream something pretty when you dozed out of consciousness with him still talking on the other end. This night was no exception, so when you wake up, you send him a text that expresses your gratitude as always.

"Listen, if you still want a contract renewal you need to publish something within next year," you look at your boss and feel every word he lays out weighing your body down like you're going to fall through the floor. "I get writer's block, I really do. And we gave you time. You took your time. But it's been almost two years now..." his words stop reaching your ears as you're reminded. One year, ten months and twelve days. And still counting. The count will never stop, you realize, as the event it started from cannot be reversed. You will always be stuck in a period of time since it happened.

"You're one of the biggest names here in our publishing house, Y/N. We don't want to lose you but at the same time we can't keep focusing on you if it will be to no avail." he is right. He is always right, your boss. Always had a strategic mindset, and that always helped both of you. Except now. Now he was asking for something you couldn't offer.

"I'm sorry," you manage to blurt out. "I'm trying my best and I know it's not enough." if you had to be honest, hearing yourself say those words out loud made your heart break even more that it already was. Partly because it was true, and the rest? Because it sounded like you were asking for compassion, which you thought was pathetic. You never liked people looking at you the way you caught yourself looking at homeless individuals.

"I'm gonna get something out, ok? I promise you, just please have a little more faith in me. I need you to trust me to be able to do this."

You look up and make eye contact with him. Park Seonghwa was never one who showed compassion. But as his gaze traced over your fingers picking at your cuticles, the dryness of your lips and the shadows of your hollowed eyes, you felt something you grew too accustomed with in the last almost two years of your life.

Pity.

"Come on, let me take you out on Thursday." San pleaded as he was following in your steps down the hallway of the company you worked in. You didn't expect your little trip to talk to your boss would end with this. "You literally have nothing to lose." He completed and you stopped, facing him. You met his familiar and comforting eyes, which always reminded you of a cute fox, and his dimpled smile as he watched you keenly. It has been almost four years since he started working at the same company you did, but since the beginning, you two were more than just work colleagues. It was the type of connection where you would understand each other from simple looks into the other's eyes or where you could easily finish each other's sentences. You liked to consider him your platonic soulmate but you knew that if you hadn't had a relationship at the time you two met, you would've have surely gone out together and maybe made a good couple.

Well...now you didn't have a relationship anymore but you weren't exactly in the right headspace for one.

By now, you and all the rest of your workmates knew how big of a crush he had on you, but you never let it get out of control. You were feeling kind of guilty, to be honest. Knowing that in a way, you were using it to your advantage for your sleepless nights or the ones in which sleep was ruined by nightmares. But you were sure he was getting his benefits from it as well.

"Look, I want to but I really don't wanna be a bitch to you if I suddenly feel like shit." you reply, and in all honestly, it was true. Your mood hasn't been so stable lately, understandably so.

"Well, how about this: if you wake up in a good mood on Thursday and decide it's okay to hang out, you text me, and we do whatever you feel comfortable with. And if we do go out and do something together and you end up feeling like shit then you'll tell me and I'll get you home in the fastest way possible for a human being. How does it sound?"

Not bad. He is giving you every little piece of comfort that you knew you needed but you never asked for. So you agree. It wouldn't be the first time you hang out with San, sure, you never called them dates, because to you they were not. But you knew that for any outsider it looked exactly like that. And who is to blame? You two always worked hand in hand just so well. These no-pressure type of meet-ups you two had always made you feel comfortable so that was why you were considering it this time as well.

Days pass and you spend them stuck in your home, drowning in your bitter memories and your regrets. The taste of guilt never becomes sweet, you think. Not like how alcohol does when you drink more and more of the same kind. No. Guilt only grows in bitterness and in how it burns down your throat, feeling like it swirls all of your insides once it reaches your stomach. In a way, guilt feels like the long estranged sister of love. Both let their essence hover in your mind for however long they like.

As you rise from your bed to make some hot coffee you think of what day it is. Between the mix of reliving the moments long gone in the same apartment you still stand, and the countless intents to come up with something that you could present to your boss, you didn't know which one made you lose track of time more. You checked your phone for a bit of clarity. No new messages or notifications. At this point, everyone knew better than to bother you with their worries.

Thursday.

Well, seems like you had to cancel out on someone, you thought as you tried grabbing the coffee pot on the stove, but lost in your thoughts, you pay no attention to the handle and drop the pot on the kitchen tiled floor as soon as you feel the skin on your palm burn. You swore and quickly took a few steps back so the burning coffee on the ground wouldn't get to your bare feet. You shook your hand trying to get a cold breeze to the inflamed skin but it only made it feel worse. As you stopped to look at the damage you realized it wasn't all that bad, but it sure stung like a motherfucker. You ran your hand under the cold water of the sink and looked to your right. The brown liquid on the ground was expanding, getting in every little crevice in between the tiles.

****

Coffee was getting everywhere. It splashed on the kitchen counters, it was slowly getting under them too. You froze for a few seconds after your mug made contact with the floor, shattering to dozens of pieces.

"Well, that can't be a good sign." your lover said from behind you finishing with a low chuckle. You smiled, turning on your heels and taking in his form. You woke him up, well, the mug woke him up actually. Approaching you slowly, with a slight limp in his walk and his shoulders dropped all the way down, his hair was fluffed up and his skin a nice shade of pale with a few lines from the pillow on his left cheek. He always looked so angelic, you never could put it into words, how it made you feel, seeing him first thing in the morning. It was something that made your insides crazily stir up but made gave you a sense of tranquility, at the same time. That was how loving him usually was. Two opposite sides walking hand in hand. He grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer to him, softly pressing his lips against the crown of your head. You joined your hands behind his torso and inhaled deeply. Your heart skipped a beat as your lungs felt intoxicated with his smell.

"Today is the big day, huh?" his voice was still hoarse as he spoke, every word of his drumming in your ears. You nodded.

"I'm really nervous." you answered and let your forehead drop against his shoulder. He hugged you tighter with the hand around your waist and gently pat your head with the other.

"I know, angel. But it's gonna be alright, ok? Your friends will be there, your parents will be there and I will be there. You can lean on me." he said kissing your cheek. "You know that, don't you?" his face right in front of yours, you responded with nothing more than a slow kiss. A kiss that was rehearsed so many times before that your lips and tongues already knew what they had to do, how they had to move around each other. Sometimes it felt like a dream, how everything came so easy with Hongjoong. How you didn't have to think twice about what you wanted from him and with him. And for all you knew, and all he had shown you across the time spent together, he didn't do that either. Every morning next to him felt like the luckiest one, and every night with him ended just the same. And you knew that if you were to live a hundred more years alongside him, you still wouldn't get enough of his embraces, or kisses or just simply him. There was nothing in the world that could cure the insatiable love you felt for the man in front of you.

As he pulled away from the kiss he gestured with his head behind you. "Now how about I clean the mess you made, and you make coffee for both of us? We have a book launch to attend, after all." you laughed and kissed him again.

*****

As your breath got heavier and your eyes started to burn up you unconsciously took your phone from the kitchen counter.

"a picnic would be perfect" you text your friend. The desire to get out of the prison your house has become, growing bigger by the second.

"Tell me if this isn't an appropriate question," you heard the man next to you say, derailing your train of thought as you directed your attention towards him. The weather is hot today, it really was a good call, suggesting a picnic. You haven't been on one in a long while and you missed feeling of how the calm of the nature overwhelmed most of your senses. Also, you couldn't handle a complicated social situation on this day. So it was perfect right now, laying on a blanket, stranded in a flower freckled field with none other than San. You turn your head towards him. " What made you want to go out today?" he completed, not looking at you. He was laying on his back, with one arm under his head and his eyes closed, as if he feared the reaction you were going to have to his words. You didn't blame him for asking. In a similar situation where the roles would be reversed, you knew for sure you would ask too. After all, you and San were made of many of the same things. " Don't get me wrong, I'm happy you agreed, but it didn't seem like you would." he adds.

"Some days my house feels like a torture chamber." you say turning on your side and facing him, supporting your head on your angled arm. He was so still, you could barely even notice the way he slowly breathed in and out. It was as if the sun was painting his portrait and he was afraid to move, to not mess it up. Every ray that was falling on his exposed skin seemed to caress him the way a lover does.

"And some days it does its job." you completed after returning on your position on your back, mimicking his. "Today just didn't felt like one of the days I'd like to be tortured." you finished and felt his gaze on you right before you closed your eyes. If you thought he seemed worried, you made sure not to address it.

"One time when I was little, I was playing with a friend of mine," you smiled, realizing this is just the beginning of one of his captivating stories. "I don't remember how we got to that point, but he left me in a room and said he was gonna lock me there, and so he got out and he did." a bit darker than what he usually tells you, but still intriguing.

"At first I thought it was fun, that we would take turns locking each other in the room but he wasn't coming back. The room had only one window but it was locked when I tried to open it and get out. So I just waited. I think hours passed, it was getting dark and I was getting worried and hungry, thought I'll be stuck there forever, until it crossed my mind. I never even tried to open the door. Turns out it didn't even have a keyhole."

"San, if you're trying to put me to sleep with this one, just know it doesn't really work." you say smirking, still holding your eyes closed as you let the sun bathe your face.

"I'm not, Y/N. I'm trying to tell you that most of the times, the doors aren't locked. We just think that they are." he responds and you open your eyes to look into his. His look is full of compassion, and a bit of sadness that you choose to overlook. You finally understand what he means to tell you and you realize he is right. But even if a door isn't locked, you shouldn't open it unless you're ready to do so. You gently touch the back of his hand, and he is quick to caress your fingers with his thumb, changing his focus to where your hands are joined.

"Thank you," your words came out more like a whisper than you would've liked. "I know I don't do much for you...but I'm hoping I'm not that much of a nuisance, like I feel I am." he turns his hand, joining his fingers with yours and making eye contact with you. The simple gesture of affection made your head dizzy in a way you haven't felt in a long time. Your heart creaks up a little.

"You couldn't be one even if you tried," he said, his gaze lazily tracing the outlines of your face. You were the most beautiful thing he's ever seen in his life, even now. Even after all the hardships you've been through, and that you're still going through. The adoration his heart held for you never stopped burning, no matter how much he wished for it to do so. For San, loving you was as easy as it sounded and as hard as it could get. Setting his eyes on the bags under your eyes he recalled a memory that stood like a scar on his brain. Your eyes were so dark that day, your eye bags a shade of purple he hadn't seen on any painting quite yet. Your lips were pale and chapped and your skin looked like it lost all its pigment.

Black didn't suit you so well, he thought. Not when it was worn the way you were wearing it then.

But the worst came when it was time to say goodbye. He still remembered your cries and wails and it made the skin on his spine tremble in its place. Could he ever forget how, on that day, you looked like the angel of death?

Now you looked better...like life was coming, little by little, back into your body, and the pure sunlight was definitely helping it. He should let the sun see you more often, he thought.

You pulled your hand from his when you felt like his eyes were analyzing your features for a bit too long. Rising in a standing position, you started examine the insides of the basket he prepared.

"Oh my God! You brought me watermelon!" you shouted loudly as you took the container holding the red pieces of fruit in it. The only thing San could do at your reaction was laugh, throwing his head back to look at the puffed up white clouds.

Four days since you brushed your teeth, three since you showered, two since you changed your clothes, one since you ate, and one year, eleven months and fourteen days since you've last held the love of your life in your arms. But, hey, who's keeping count anyways?

Time loses all its meaning when you confine yourself like you are some dangerous animal meant to be locked up in a cage. Between the moments you try to stay awake and the ones you try to sleep, you have little to remember. The only thing that gives a little light to the fog in your brain is San. His stories in the middle of the night, conversations you happen to have during the day and occasional meetings that you're always the one to initiate. He always makes you feel good, always picks the right words to say and you don't know how he has the patience for such things. You love and hate him for it. You love him for being such a considerate and kind person, and you hate him for making you forget. It's strange when you get home and reality dumps on you at the front door. The reality you actually live in and not one you indulged yourself to have with San for a few hours. It's just...with him everything is colorful and melodic but when you get home the only thing you hear are your sighs echoing off the walls back into your ears. You wished you could be stuck in the feeling you have around him forever, but at the same time, every time you have that feeling you feel guilty for it. Like it's impossible to allow yourself any sort of break.

The last days have been impossible to get through. All you did was look around at the mess that was around you. A mountain of clothes, waiting to be washed for weeks now, a sink full of dishes and mugs, lots of crumpled sheets on the ground ( proof of all your tries to put something together). Everything was a disaster, inside and out. You had no willpower to do anything about it but you knew that the more you would stay in a shitty space, the more you would feel like shit. So for the first time in months, you opened the window.

*****

He placed the two mugs on the windowsill as he opened the window, allowing the cold breeze of the morning to brush over the exposed skin. He watched you closely as you made sure to turn off the stove and place the coffee pot in the sink. Your eyes met his as you felt the cold air run down your back, giving you shivers. He smiled contentedly at the sight of your body slowly shuddering. The "window" habit was a thing Hongjoong let into the relationship since the beginning of it. It was crazy for you how sometimes you caught him doing it first thing after waking up. You loved to watch him open the window and inhale the morning air with his elbows pressed against the wooden frame. Those moments wouldn't last long, but you treasured them more than he maybe thought about it. There was a thing about this domestic life, and seeing him do his own rituals that had you turn into quite the observer.

"You love to make me cold, don't you?" you smile brightly getting closer and closer, until you reach the space right in front of him.

"Angel, you're so hot in the morning that I'm afraid you might overheat. I need to cool you down a little, don't I?" he says on his usual cheeky tone, the one you grew to love in such little time. As he places his hand on your hip, you take a sip of your coffee. Like your actions served as a reminder of the hot liquid resting in his mug, he does the same.

"I can think of some other ways you could cool me down..." you say as you hook your finger on the front waistband of his pajama pants, sliding it from left to right. He chuckles in his mug and pulls you closer. Your chests rise in unison as you look each other in the eye, you don't say anything but this moment feels like a promise neither of you wants to break.

He looks to his left, at the city and at the people. Taking advantage of the opportunity, you place a few slow kisses on his jaw.

"I want us to find a new place," he says scooping you up as you squeal in surprise. You hook your legs behind his waist instantly while he walks towards the bedroom. "I want a balcony." He completes before kissing you and you laugh into the kiss, thinking of the many ways you two could make use of said balcony. He sure was thinking the same thing you did, giving how he started laughing as well.

His laugh was the only thing you ever wanted to hear again.

*****

You look down at the windowsill and see the brown marks in the body of two circles imprinted on the wooden surface. You always told him to use the damn coasters. Now the wood was stained. Permanently stained. Permanently ruined. Just like you were.

As you get on with cleaning you try to keep your brain busy with thoughts like what you should do after you finish a task, and what you should do after that one is finished as well. You thank yourself for choosing to clean, as you get out of the shower and throw yourself into the bed. Not only does it now smell like flowers, but you're also tired enough for sleep to steal you the minute you close your eyes.

"Ha! Check mate!" San exclaimed from the other side of the table you both were sat at. This was an odd activity that you had never done before. Playing chess, in a park, fully exposed to the summer sun. And you weren't even middle aged. Crazy to see how far the desperation to get out of the house will make someone go. But if it was with San, you were sure that there weren't many place where you wouldn't go.

"Your mind seems to be elsewhere," he said, angling his head innocently like the little puppies do when you tell them not to lick the outlet. His black hair was swooped out of his face, making his cheekbones pop out in a way you didn't think it was more humanly possible.

"Oh, you know damn well I suck at chess, San." you said kicking his queen with your finger. It became clear to him that you were an unfit partner for this game after like, the half of the first match. As the piece made contact with the chessboard, San tittered, making his eyes turn into crescents and his dimples scar his cheeks again.

"You just don't want to learn," he said as he started picking the pawns. You gave him a hand, collecting all the pieces on your side.

"You play the pawns when you still have the queen..." he offered a dramatic sigh as he clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth. True, it was more comfortable to lose with the pawns than with the queen.

"How's the book going?" placing the game of chess in his backpack, he made eye contact with you as he pressed his elbows against the surface in between. You sigh.

"It's not," you admit thinking about all the documents you've erased the last month or every manuscript you tossed in the trash. Nothing was coming together and you hated every word after writing it. Not only was this process driving you mad but it also made you doubt all your abilities as a writer. People would expect more from someone who had a bestseller out there, you thought. But it wasn't your job to rise to anyone's expectation.

"Maybe I was just a one hit wonder." you say smiling sadly. It really did pain you to think that you weren't able to do the sole thing you ever thought yourself good at. But maybe, after you lived in a thousand realities in the past two years (as of today, maybe the reason why you wanted to get out of your home so bad), this was your new one. A reality in which you weren't able to write anymore. Fear was not even close to describe how you felt about the future.

"Don't kid yourself, I know you'll make it eventually." San offers, grabbing your hand in his. "You know, you should be the last person who is hard on yourself." he rubs your hand with his thumb. You wish you could pull away from his touch, or to at least want to pull away. But you don't. His touch is comforting and not a lot of things in your life are that way right now. As you look at him there is a sudden desire to punch yourself in the face, for the only thing that comes through your mind is to thank him again. As you did countless of times before. He did say he grew tired of it.

"You know what I'm in the mood for?" you avoid the subject successfully as he rises his eyebrows, showering you in all his undivided attention. "Drinking my sorrows at a shitty bar." you finish off, painting a big smile on your face. He mirrors it as he sighs through his teeth, letting go of your hand. He notices your intention to avoid talking about anything serious. Anything that might actually help you. You always do it, that is exactly why you talk to him only about nonsense and why, when you call him in the middle of the night (and when he always, always answers) you make him tell you a story. Leaving him to be the only one to talk as you doze off. Never leaving room for him to ask you what is wrong or what you dreamed of. Is how you got on until then, and maybe that is why it went so slowly, the whole "moving on" thing everyone was telling you about. But it was the thing that worked best for you, you figured. Not talking about the elephant in the room got you this far, you can go a little more like that.

"Well, I happen to know the perfect place for that," rising from his seat, he extends his hand towards you. "Shall we?"

You didn't know if it was the alcohol or the bar lights or simply just him. Honestly, you couldn't tell the difference between many things anymore, but as you looked at San talking, you felt more attracted to him than ever. The mole near his eyelid seemed more prominent now, and so did his muscular arms under the fitted shirt he wore, and oh, the freckles painting constellations on his neck. His eyes were sparkling brightly and his teeth were showing from time to time. You looked closely as he licked his lips after taking a sip of his beer. The way he was doing it seemed almost erotic. That one part of your brain that would feel bad for having these thoughts has died when you drank your fourth shot, but you were glad it did. You felt more comfortable now, and with San here, there was not a lot more that you would wish for. Not realistic wishes anyway.

"I need to know which side you stand on," he says angling his body towards yours. "Socks on or off during sleep?" San asks with a serious face, as if he asked if you enjoyed kicking puppies in the face or eating toddlers for dinner. You burst out laughing at the mix of the question and his expression.

"Off, I'm not a psychopath." you answer through your stilled laugh. He frowns.

"Oh no, you're definitely a psycho. Do your feet not get cold?" a bit of frustration could be heard in his voice.

"How would I know? I'm asleep the whole time." you sip from your drink. "Don't tell me you like pineapple on pizza as well..." you plead looking at him.

"And what if I do? It's a good combination! It's like mint chocolate, de-li-cious." San smiles proudly at his outrageous statements. Maybe he is not the person you thought he was. God, he told you so much and yet you still knew so little. That was one of the most intriguing things about him. That you felt like a lifetime wouldn't ever be enough for you to get to know him completely. Like everyday he would pick another thing to like, or something utterly new to do so he doesn't get bored. He always told you how he gets bored of things and people so fast. And yet there he was, still by your side. Maybe you were the mystery he didn't get to solve yet.

"Dude, not toothpaste too.." you cry out as you push his arm, but instead of pushing him, you push yourself. You almost lose your balance off the bar stool, but San's quick reflexes kick in and grab you by the arm, pulling you back in sitting position. He cackles as you try to maintain your balance.

"Maybe we should get you home." he says laying some bills on the bar. You hum in approval and get to your feet as you follow him out of the bar, which was indeed shitty. San is a man of his word.

The walk home was short and calm as you focused more on seeming sober than to what was happening around you. It already got dark as you two strolled past the abandoned streets laughing about things you unwillingly forgot as soon as you finished laughing. This moment, you thought to yourself, is the one that you would remember when a certain song plays. One that will give you the same sensations you feel in this moment. And far away from right now, when you know you will be better, when you listen to that certain song, you'll think wow, so much has changed. That moment could happen 10 days from now, or ten years. You don't know yet. But something about this uncertainty makes you relax somehow, knowing that you still have hope. And most of it is thanks to San. He may not be aware of all the things that he is helping you with, but you are. It's like a mental list that you never stop writing on. Could you ever repay him for any of it?

"Here we are," he says as he places his hand on your shoulder and you take a hold of his arm as he rattles on about not drinking anymore and going to sleep and whatever else he decided to nag you about. Your focus is only on his lips, and then his eyes, and his lips again, and his hand on your arm, and then feeling his arm flexing underneath your touch, and the feeling of being taken care of by someone. You realize you don't want this night to end quite yet.

"Do you wanna come in?" you interrupt, and observe his quick reaction of rapidly shutting his mouth and widening his eyes.

"I could use a live storytelling session right now." you add.

What where you asking for exactly? As you looked at him hesitate for a bit, you weren't sure that you knew either. But after a few seconds of looking around, he hums in approval as he nods and follows you inside your home. It's not as clean as you would wish but not as messy as to apologize for anything. You both take off your shoes and walk into the open space living room. Feeling San's presence close behind you, you turn and signal for him to sit down on the couch as you go to a little counter.

"I have vodka, whiskey and some cherry liquor," you turn your head back towards him. He was sitting on your couch now. But not how someone who entered their friend's apartment for the first time would be expected to sit, no. Because he didn't have that posture of "oh, I don't want to make myself comfortable because my presence here is out of place". No. He looked like he fucking owned the place. Like he payed the bills. Like he chose every single piece of decoration there was inside your home. And you weren't mad about it, if you were being honest. The everlasting confidence that was emanating out his every pore always looked good on him. His legs were spread apart, and you didn't forbid yourself to spend more than a few seconds scanning his thighs, thinking of numerous ways you could make use of them. Prominent Adam's apple marked his throat as his head was thrown back over the backrest. It seemed that he moved in slow motion, lazily pulling his head up and in your direction.

"Glass of whiskey would be nice." he answered through a half pout as his hands splayed even more on the higher edge of the couch. Obeying his orders, you unconsciously let his choice be the one you make as well, so you pour the liquid in two glasses. The strong scent hits you immediately, and you know you won't be able to drink it, the alcohol in your system will reject this on the spot if you dared adventure too far. But you decided back when you invited your friend into your house, tonight was the night you were going to test your limits.

You sit yourself on the couch, next to the man you hide your desire for not so well, closer than you usually would. And he seems to observe regarding the fact that he appears to be leaning a bit into you. Maybe it's in your head. He sips from the glass you hand him, licking his lips again, the gesture he did at the bar seems to be hitting you in a certain, already wet, spot in between your legs as it did a little time ago. He hums right after swallowing the drink, you follow with interest the way his Adam's apple moves up and down. Why is he being so unworldly attractive tonight? Is it really the alcohol or has the sexual tension finally built up enough for you to not be able to take it anymore. You feel an unexpected, but not unwelcomed, ache in your heart and stomach and definitely in your pussy. He places the glass down, with careful fingers, on the table before you and resumes his previous stance, except now one of his hands chooses to rest on the thigh closer to you. You admire it from respectable distance, one which you weren't sure you'd be able to maintain for too long. His hands were clean, nails kept short on his slender long fingers, and the rings adorning them only completed the way his veins were traveling down the back of his palm. Will there ever be a time where you could look at Choi San and not like what you see? Highly doubtful.

"That's some good shit," finally his face catches your attention, and happily so. He looks at you through his lashes, smirking with one corner of his beautiful mouth. You wondered how his lips might feel. On yours, on your neck, your chest, everywhere. "never took you for a whiskey person."

"I'm not," you say through a bittersweet smile and you realize that maybe you really, desperately need the alcohol right now, so you chug some of it down. "it's been laying around." you finish the sentence and then the glass of whiskey and you place it down the table, next to his. The contrast of the glasses, one empty and one half full, makes you amused in some kind of way. It let's you reminiscence of the many times that you heard from a certain someone, how you were always rushed in the most unfit situations. It was true.

As you look back to San, you feel like you are left with no choice than laying on your back and placing your head on his lap. So you do, maybe slower than you feel you move in your drunk-dazed mind. As you nuzzle the back of your head into his thighs, you close your eyes, for your vision was getting blurry and the room slowly spun around.

"You can begin anytime." you sigh out and feel him shifting a bit underneath you. He chuckles lowly and it takes him a few moments to adjust to the situation presented before him, it would be strange to you too. These were exactly the kind of things that you hesitated to do with San, because you partly knew his feelings for you, so you didn't want to give too much water to the well. Exactly the kind of intimacy that would leave room to hope for more, want more.

And not only from his side.

"I met this girl a while ago," he starts and softly places his hand on top of your head, massaging your scalp and slowly pulling at strands of your hair. "she's the whole package. Smart, funny, kind and so fucking hot." , safe to say you don't expect his last words to hit you like they do. A tad bit of jealousy makes its presence felt in the bottom of your heart, thinking that there might be a possibility that he doesn't refer to you. But the slow strokes his fingers offer your head make you feel too good to give it any importance.

"She's got this thing about her, I don't know how to even say it. It's like every time we talk, we knew each other since birth and like the first time we ever met, all at once. It's incredible, really." the way he talked was how you only heard people talk in movies. Hopeless romantic to the very end.

"Sounds like she's got you head over heels." you huff out slightly annoyed.

"Yeah, you'd be shocked," silence following his words, words that had a heartbroken nuance to them. He continues to massage your head and his touch feels so good, so comforting, so familiar. Like he did it every time he saw you, like he at least imagined doing it every time. "she really loves my stories." he adds after what seems to be like forever, and his hand stops, pulling itself out of your proximity. Your eyes shoot open and you find his gaze upon you. At the same time he looks sad, his eyes are also filled with anticipation, of what is to come, of how you would react to the fact that he just confirmed it was you he talked about. You sit up, trying not to let the slight dizziness in your head get the best of you and turn to him. Faces close to each other, studying him one last time before things change between you two. He wants it. And you clearly want it. Both of you so bad that it's not even a surprise how you meet halfway into a kiss. You thank the universe in your head, for it being this way. For you to not beat yourself up too much later that you initiated anything. So you let yourself sink into the feeling of him, his smell intoxicating. You know that it will be hard to not feel it in your lungs for a long time after this, and you were happy for it to be that way. Your lips are shy at first, not used to kissing anymore, not used to someone who hasn't kissed you before. But the feeling is more than pleasant. He takes his time, slowly nipping away at your bottom lip, swiftly pushing his tongue into your mouth. Your teeth clash and you both smile, licking into each other's mouths a bit more. His lips are soft and so warm, this feeling has long been forgotten by your mind. He pulls away and you gasp for air, he reaches to brush the hair out of your face and cups your face gently, looking into your eyes with a glimmer you were sure you haven't seen on him before. But you knew exactly what it meant.

"I don't want it if you don't." he says, assuring you once again that his actions will only be made for your comfort.

"I can't even tell you how bad I want it." your voice soft as it answers, and after receiving your words with wonder on his face, San downs the whiskey left in his glass, only to rush kissing you right after he gulps it down. If the first kiss was both of you navigating uncharted waters, now you were both desiring more. Hungrily devouring each other, whiskey tasted so much better on his tongue. You climbed into his lap as he pulled you closer to his chest. Serving as a reminder, you needed to get that shirt off of him. And as you helped him get rid of it, you weren't even surprised of how he looked even better than what you kept picturing all night. He returned the favor of undressing you of your shirt, and briefly cupped your breasts through your bra as he pulled you into another kiss. His hands quickly running to your waist, pulling you deeper into his lap, feeling him get hard underneath you, moment by moment. One of his palms traveled down to massage your butt cheek through your jeans, and the other quickly moved up to unhook your bra deftly with steady fingers.

"You must be popular with the ladies." you whisper close to his mouth and he chuckles.

"Not with the ones I want." he replies and you jokingly slap his bicep in response. He pulls the bra off throwing it somewhere nearby and admires your chest for a second too long before taking one of your nipples in his mouth. You throw your head back and whimper at the feeling of his tongue swirling around the sensitive part of your breasts. You tangle your fingers in his hair as you try to slowly ride his thigh, feeling the need to get rid of the tension in some kind of way. He let's your nipple out of his mouth with a lewd pop and laughs as he glues his hand to the back of your head, forcing you to look into his eyes.

"Darling if you want something you just need to ask," he brings his mouth over to your chest, planting sprinkled kisses along your collarbones. "my thigh? my fingers? my cock?" he asks in between suctions on the soft, sensitive skin of your neck. You were so sexually frustrated that you thought you were going to cry, and his words definitely didn't help. If something, they only made the tightness in your belly feel even tighter. "Which one will it be?" he asks finally as his eyes find yours again. You barely manage a pathetic whimper as he let's go of your head to unbutton your jeans. His hand slides slowly until it meets the band of your panties, but it doesn't go further, his eyes stopping on your face.

"Fuck, San, I want everything." you finally verbalize for him, your words laced with desperation for him to take things further. He closes his eyes and smiles in satisfaction when hearing your words, resuming the attack on your neck, biting down some marks here and there. His fingers finally get a hold of your clit and you shudder at the sensation. The circular motions he starts only make you moan his name quietly, through whimpers. It's been so long since you touched yourself like that, let alone somebody else. Masturbation was a thing you couldn't get back into since everything happened. Every time you tried, your mind only pictured Hongjoong, and it always ended with you crying without releasing in any kind of way. That was how you spent the last two years of your life, no wonder you were sexually frustrated. But now, the only thing on your mind was San, and how you could get him to make you cum faster. The position wasn't really a favorable one, he didn't have much access and so, his movements were limited and slow. San sinks his hand further down, teasing your hole with his middle finger, coating it in your arousal.

"You're so wet baby," he slowly pushes his finger into you, wandering into your inside, and your tightness. It did definitely feel like rain after a long drought. He pumped his finger inside you a few times, adding an extra one after a few seconds, stretching you in a way that has become unfamiliar but satisfying all the same. He fastened his pace and you unconsciously started to ride his fingers, chasing after your long awaited release. It wouldn't last too much, taking in consideration that you haven't orgasmed in so long. Your left hand was on San's nape, anchoring you to some sort of reality that he was indeed there, and the other one was on his chest. It wasn't much longer until your body conjured the estranged feeling in your tummy, you were close. San seemed to read your thoughts once again as his movements came to a halt, you offered a frustrated whimper in return. He lifted you up of his lap and placed you on your back next to him. He helped you get rid of your jeans and then your panties.

"I know you want to cum, but I want you to do it in my mouth." his face in between your thighs, breath fanning over your aching core. This time he didn't wait for a verbal response anymore, and you were glad he didn't. His warm tongue licked a long swipe starting from your hole to your clit, his mouth latched to it with sensual movements, sucking and licking at it, taking all the time in the world.

"Ho...ly fu-fuck," you gasped as you threw your head back into the cushion of the couch, arching your back under his ministrations.

His tongue was skilled, and so were his fingers when they slid inside you for the second time tonight. He curled them up, hitting your g-spot every time he pumped them in. Your body shuddered hardly at the sensation.

"Feel good?" he asked looking up at you, for the first time since he positioned you like this, you looked down at him. And what a sight for sore eyes, so lewd that if you looked at it for long enough you would cum without him needing to do anything to you anymore.

"So good," you reply and place one of your hands into his raven hair when he continues abusing your sensitive bud in the best way you could think of, he continues his movements with his tongue and his fingers, and it's only a matter of seconds until it builds up. You pull at his hair as he deepens his head in between the thighs that are now clenched around his head and it finally all becomes too much for you.

"Fuck....San....ahh," you cry out whilst shutting your eyes tightly, thing that makes you see stars in the back of your head.

You feel proud for satisfying his wish. San seems too feel so as well. You come undone on his fingers, and he pulls them out quickly to attend your releasing wetness with his inpatient tongue, you feel as if you could pass out from the soft stimulation. Such a long time since you've had an orgasm and this might have been the best way to have one.

"Fuck, you taste so good," he says as he slowly rises and takes his place above you, letting you have a taste yourself as he kisses you, swirling his wet muscle in every corner of your mouth, making sure none of it is getting left untouched by him. You sure do taste better on his tongue. Feeling his hard dick press on the inside of your thigh, in all its dizziness, your brain only wants more.

"Can we go to the bedroom?" you ask nicely, only to be met once more with San's surprised face. Like the thought that you still might want more never crossed his mind. He helps you up by the waist and lets you guide the way to the room. As you enter the it you quickly run to the bed, throwing yourself on it as you giggle like you're high, and you might as well be. High hormones had the same effect as weed for you. San only shakes his head with a smile on his face, while looking down and getting his belt off. Shit, this is really happening. Really finally happening. He slowly approaches the bed, ridding himself of his pants as he reaches the edge of it. Your friend pulls down his boxers as well, and you watch closely as his erect member is finally out of its entrapment, it springs up vividly, slapping against his torso. You're left in surprise at the sight of his girthy, definitely above average long, cock. You bite your lip involuntarily and he laughs to your reaction.

"You don't need to," you quickly blurt out as soon as you see him pulling a condom from his wallet. "I mean...I'm clean, if so are you then..." well it's safe to say you've became quite a desperate little thing during your two, deprived of sex, years. "then, we don't need to worry." you finish your sentence.

"You sure?" he asks for confirmation once again.

"Yeah, 'm sure." you respond and beckon him with your index finger. He muffles out a swear word you don't quite register as he drops the condom from his hold, quickly climbing on the bed. He crafts a better position above you, kissing you gently as he lines up his tip with your entrance. You whine in anticipation, lips still attached to his own, softer ones. He slowly pushes himself inside, taking lots of time to make sure your tightness grows comfortable around him. It hurts. Not only it is the first time with San, it felt like the first time altogether. At first, it seemed like your damn hymen grew back. Ironic, considering the amount of sex you used to have. You frowned as you whimpered softly into his mouth. He quickly broke the kiss, watching you with a slightly panicked look on his face.

"Hey, you all right?" he brushed the hair out of your face with his right hand, holding his weight on his left arm. You slowly started to get used to him, your whole body relaxing noticeably when seeing his face.

"Yeah, you can move." you stated with a voice glazed with desire. He did as asked, moving his hips in slow strokes, every time trying to deepen himself more inside you. He groaned each time his dick reached a new part of you.

"Fucking hell, how are you so fucking tight?" he lets out in a tone that almost seems annoyed with the state of your pussy.

"You...are the first...since then." you speak in between craving moans. He shudders at your words, stopping for a second, as he buries his forehead in the crook of your neck.

"Well, damn, princess. Should've let me stretch you out sooner." he whispers into your ear. And that is by far the most obscene thing that has left his lips tonight. He started moving again, this time picking a pace that had you crying out for his name. You couldn't think of much else when San was fucking you, his cock kindly brushing over a certain sweet spot every time it reached its depth. His dick and your pleasure occupied most of the place inside you and your mind, respectively. But at one point, you did try to recall how exactly you ended up right there. Somewhere along the way of finding the answer, you realized it didn't matter how, it mattered that it did. And the strokes that San was driving into you only made you thank the universe that it happened. Following after his release, he increased his speed. His voice was starting to get raspy after groaning and moaning, as did yours, both of your throats dry now.

"I...I think I'm gonna cum..." he whispered in your ear, and you immediately understood the question hiding behind his words. Your mind was in a state of debate for a few too many seconds. In or out? The only person that ever came in was him. In or out? But you wanted San to cum inside you so badly. In or out? That wouldn't be fair. In or out? But why wouldn't it be?

"Inside." you determinately say. His movements begin to grow messy, losing rhythm. He immerses into you deep, almost knocking you out with the way his cock is so richly stuffed inside you, and he let's out an angelic cry as he fills you up with white ropes of his hot seed. With his forehead glued to your shoulder, San pauses to catch his breath for a few seconds, before pulling his body up to get better vision of you. He cups your cheek and kisses you softly once again, pulling himself apart from you quicker than expected.

"You're so beautiful," he brushes his thumb over your lips. "I could look at you for all eternity." your heart thumps heavily when hearing his words. It made no sense for you how someone who looked like him, could tell you that you're beautiful. It seemed so far away from your reality, but still, you were thankful. At a loss for words, and only giving a shy smile in return, San mirrors it as he ascends and then throws himself in the empty space next to you. The only thing that is heard the next few minutes is both of your breaths as your chests heave. You nuzzle up into San's side, he embraces you with his arm as you grab him by the waist, laying your head on his chest. He kisses you on the crown of your head as he starts humming a melody that you don't think you've heard yet. Nonetheless, sleep gets a hold of your tired body and mind quickly, and you don't know if it's the alcohol that creates an illusion, or if it's just San's presence, but throughout your dreams you feel as if you are guarded by an angel.

Easily the best sleep you've had in a while. You are reminded of how easy it is to fall asleep on someone else's shoulder, just as you wake up.

*****

Before you met him you always thought you were better at spending time alone than you were at spending time with others. Now your thoughts had changed about the matter. It was like you were made only for being in Hongjoong's company, and when you were, you felt at peace. Like nothing could affect you ever again. The moments after sex were the ones you loved most, it almost felt like after your bodies were joint, your souls were getting combined as well, while laying on one another. He had his warm hand draped against your waist, playfully tracing circles on your soft skin, humming whatever song came to his mind. Your hand was on his bare chest and your head in the crook of his armpit. If you would be stuck in a time loop made only of this moment, you would never get sick of it.

The heat his body was emanating seemed to strangely warm you up from inside out, and the smell that was around the two of you was making your mind dizzy and your lungs crave for more. Feeling his chest rise as he inhaled and exhaled made you realize that your breaths were in sync, and hearing his heartbeat, you were sure they were too, in sync with yours. For you, loving Hongjoong was such a natural thing to do, like you two were extensions of each other and worked at full capacity only when together. His fingers slowly took a hold of your hand which he brought to his lips, he kissed it and then squeezed it tightly. You looked up into his eyes. His beautiful eyes sprinkled with love and adoration as he watched you.

"I think that every day I spend with you, I find a new meaning to love." he brushes your cheek gently and you stay silent, your mind in a stage of awe at how greatly he sums up the things you feel, without even talking to each other. You smile as you kiss him again and again and again.

"Then let's find a new meaning to love together for the rest of our lives," still standing close to his face, you see him smile and you do as well. You knew that even in the darkest of days, his smile would always lighten up your whole world. He pecks your lips again and suddenly tries to get up from the bed, the coldness you feel not only in your body, but your heart as well, wraps around your mind and you quickly grab his hand. He stops and kneels on the bed, looking at your uncovered body still on display for the flame that takes ahold in his enchanting eyes.

"We'll be late..." he says as he gets closer to you. That wouldn't be a problem, you think. The author should be allowed to be late to their own book release, right?

"Ten more minutes," you plead as you pull him towards you. He smirks and let's you take control of both his mind and body, as he lays on top of you, filling you up with the heat emanating from his body once again. After all, ten minutes wasn't that much, right?

*****

There it was. The selfishness that has made you lose him. The selfishness that brought you here with San. Everything was your fault. You lost so much of yourself the day you lost Hongjoong, but you were sure your last bit of humanity was completely lost the day you let Choi San believe that you could love him the same way he did. How could you be so reckless? You couldn't even blame the alcohol anymore, only your fucking stupidity. You used the only friend left that you cared about, as a rebound. And he doesn't even know. You looked up at the man who was holding you tight against his chest, as if not to lose you. He was still asleep. His natural unflawed beauty made your heart exclaim in agony as you traced his features with your gaze. As thoughts were overwhelming your mind, you placed your head in its initial position. Your eyes were starting to sting when tears started to form up.

You were the worst there was, weren't you? You killed your boyfriend and you deceived your friend into being your distraction, from all the pain and guilt, in more than one way. You didn't recognize yourself anymore, not after so much time of ignoring all your thoughts and suppressing all your feelings thinking it would get better. It didn't get better, the opposite actually, seeing where you stand right now. It was all because of you, and your selfishness, and it could've all be avoided if you didn't wish for fucking ten more minutes.

You started quivering and sobbing.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" San confusedly asks. This should be a sight to see as soon as you open your eyes. The girl you were balls deep in the night before, crying in front of you the morning after. Comforting you came natural to him, like he has been doing it for all his life. And you realized he did do it, not for all his life, sure, but since it happened. He has done his best to comfort you in every way he could. And he always succeeded. And this is how you repaid him. How could you be such a fucking asshole?

"San you need to...you have to leave...I'm sorry." you say through sniffles as it gets harder and harder for you to control the tears pouring down your face. You cannot look him in the eyes but you do get a peek at his grave look, how he looks down, unsure of what to do.

"Did I do something?" he quietly asks with a certain thread of fear in his voice, as if he was terrified of what his question might cause. You wish you could tell him that at the same time he didn't do anything, he also did too much. His kindness and love were too overwhelming for you in the state you were in.t. No matter how much he tried, his love couldn't repair you. You were the only one who could do that, but for what felt like the longest time, you didn't want to do it. Maybe it was time to try now.

"God, no..." you barely manage to blurt out. Speaking seems like the most tiring thing to do right now. "I just have to be alone right now." trying to stop your tears briefly, you look him in the eyes as he retracts his hands off of you. And you can't help but feeling it again, even if you know that it's not the case. Abandoned. Once again, and like the first time, it was all because of you. He got up from the bed, quickly dressing himself in the heavy silence that was surrounding both of you. You slowly hugged your knees to your chest, slightly burying your head in the space that you created. Maybe it wasn't for the best to be left alone but you were afraid of what might happen if you weren't. You saw San walk to your front door, put on his shoes and look at you for a last time. You looked up at him with teary eyes.

"Y/N, I..." love you. He didn't need to enunciate it, you could already see it on his face, how much it hurt him to leave you in this mess, all alone. Whatever you felt for him was so hard to decipher in the amalgam of things that were dwelling inside of you. And it was even harder to accept that you did have certain feelings for him, stronger that you would've liked. He sighed and slowly shook his head, looking down. You saw him leave and then you didn't see much anymore. As bitter tears that flooded your eyes slowly slid into your mouth. Painful screams were tumbling out of your chest giving you no chance to control them. As you get up off the bed you start grabbing whatever comes first and throwing it around. Cradled papers, books off of shelves, tiny decorations on your desk. You reach a framed photo of you and Hongjoong and stop for a second to look at it. Back at the beginning of your relationship when you went to a museum. It started snowing so much that his black coat turned white. You still remembered the cold weather of that period but the warmth of his smile was burning still, even through the damn picture. A few of your tears stained the glass of the photo and after you whimpered in the discomfort you felt around your heart, like someone was squeezing it in their fist, you threw it on the wall across from you. Did you really have to destroy everything nice in your life? As soon as it shattered to pieces you rushed towards it, as if you were not expecting the completely obvious to happen.

"No, no, no..." you whisper to yourself in disbelief. You slowly pick the broken glass in your shaking hands as your crying only gets louder, rivers of tears flowing down your face when your eyes can't seem to look anywhere else but at the old photo.

"I miss you so fucking much..." you whimper in pain, like a dog being beaten.

It's pure torture, you realize, what you're doing to yourself. It takes a lot for your now bloody palms to make contact with your face and wipe your tears, only leaving more of a mess behind. The flesh, now torn from picking up the thin pieces of broken glass, stings when your salty tears slide over the bloody trails and as you rise up with wobbly legs to throw it in the trash, you find yourself looking out the same window you stood with your lover on his last day beside you. Your tears suddenly came to a halt as you looked at the city lights near and far away; your breathing steadied and you remembered.

I want a balcony.

How were you supposed to move on, when you haven't even moved out?

You never felt so nervous for anything in your life before. The microphone was waiting for you on the warmly illuminated stage. You took shy steps towards it as the people started to applaud loudly, you were sure you heard someone whistle from the crowd. As you got in front of the microphone stand you placed one hand on it, dragging it closer. You were not sure how to do this. It should've been your second time, but due to the incidents back then, it was the first time in your life you had to speak at your own book release. Or even attend it. You inhaled deeply and looked through the crowd once more. Your eyes met Seonghwa's as he slightly raised the glass of champagne towards you. The pity he laid upon you with the help of his gaze a while back had turned into pride. You couldn't help but remember the surprise on his face when you went not to his office, but his house, at two in the morning, when you finally finished writing.

You spent the night together, he began reading and you fell in and out of sleep on his couch. When you woke up, he made breakfast for you and he told you how great it was, with the little eternal side notes from his side. He was proud.

"I have no idea what I should say," you offer a strong beginning, everyone starting to chuckle at your awkward comment. "I've been through hell and back writing this book. Two years and a half ago I lost the love of my life in a car accident, and for a long time I thought I lost everything." the room became suddenly tense as you spoke the words.

"But this should be a reminder that some doors aren't closed. We just think that they are." you finish off raising your glass and looking at a familiar pair of eyes. Everyone cheers as you get off the stage, and after receiving compliments from your boss, your team and other people as well, you follow the suited silhouette that you've been secretly chasing with your stare all night, outside.

"Hey," you greet as you find San on a bench right next to the venue. His eyes meet yours and for a brief second it's like all the nerves you had on stage came back, but they were doubled this time. It was hard going through everything without San. He tried to contact you, of course, but you weren't giving him much and the only times you saw him were when you ran into each other at work. When you looked at yourself in the mirror you couldn't recognize yourself anymore, but he? He was just the same. Dressed for the occasion, his black hair swiped back neatly and his face...as gorgeous as ever, and the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.

"Hey," he greets back as he drags his body on one side of the bench, signaling for you to join him. You sit beside him and look forward, feeling his eyes on your figure. "how have you been?" he asks, his voice glazed in worry. You made him suffer for the last time, you tell yourself. The whole ghosting thing and all the times you avoided him, those summed up the last time you were going to ever hurt him. For now you were working towards slowly healing the wound that has scarred you, which gave you more clarity about a lot of things.

"Better." you answer, looking in his direction. "I finally got it out!" you add smiling, a bittersweet smile that you held inside for a long time, it was for him only.

"I told you." San mimics your smile and looks into the distance.

"You did," moments of silence accompany as you think of the best way to embody your thoughts into words. "I never got to apologize." you start and his head shoots right at you. "I'm sorry. For using you to try and fuck my pain away." finally saying it aloud to him and getting it off your chest make your lungs finally not burn up when you try to inhale.

"I should apologize too," he begins and it's your turn to look at him with confusion.

"A part of me was aware that you were trying to do that and yet I wasn't able to stop myself." he adds. And it's like some part of you already knew, and already forgave him for it and that was because you knew you had way more blame than him, but you learned to come to terms with it, like you did with many things in your life. Learning to forgive yourself wasn't an easy process, but with the help of a good therapist, you slowly learned how to do it. You were at peace with a few of the things that kept you awake during the night. Slowly getting better.

"I'm sorry." he says and you're sure that more honest words had never left his mouth.

You take his hand into yours and place it on your lap. For the first time since you know him, his hands are cold. You use your other palm as a blanket and cover his hand from the cold winter breeze outside. He nurtured for you enough, it was finally time that you were ready to return the favor.

"I read the book," he says, looking at your hands holding each other.

"Lots of them are inspired from your stories," you refer to the poems, thinking of how many more were written with your mind only thinking about him that didn't even make the cut into the book. "and lots of them are inspired from you." You look into his eyes as he squeezes your hand gently. Maybe you didn't yet know what you wanted. But you knew what you didn't want. And you didn't want to lose San. Not again. Not ever.

"Can I take you out on Thursday?" he asks as his gaze stills down on your warm face. If he asked you this on a bad day, you still weren't sure what your answer would be, but today was a good day. You never got to say goodbye to Hongjoong, but that didn't mean you couldn't say hello to anyone ever again. "You know, in case you need more inspiration for your next masterpiece." he adds and you laugh shortly while nodding quickly. You spend a few more minutes in silence, enduring the cold air, silently revealing to each other the most vulnerable parts of you. You look down at your joined hands and then into his eyes. You smile, partly because you do feel happy, and the rest because you know he'll do the same, and hell, you fucking missed that dimpled smile of his.

The man doesn't say anything when you lean your head on his shoulder, but you are almost sure you can hear his heart beating faster. "I missed you so much." you finally say, letting your feelings pour out in front of San for the first time, leaving you vulnerable in a way no one has seen you since then.

And for the first time, while looking at the bright clear sky above you, you think for yourself that...He would be so proud.