#out of starlight ♥

[wongyuseokie]

All Too Well | c.s.c

Summary: You thought you met the man of your dreams. He was everything you ever wanted, but what happens when that dream falls apart and when that man is no longer the one you recognise? You want to love him against all odds because you believe things can be better.

☆ 18+ minors dni |☀︎fluff | ☁︎ angst | ♕smut | ♥ completed works

Word Count: 21,190 words 

Pairings: Professor! Seungcheol x Female Reader Genre/Trope(s)/AU(s): Established Relationship, break up au! Slightly (quite) toxic relationship, HEAVY ANGST, fluff, smut. 

Content Warnings: There is an age gap between the reader and Seungcheol, but it’s not massive. He’s 30, and she’s 25, but it’s enough to cause problems. Seungcheol is a condescending little shit in this. Yelling, swearing, crying, arguments, toxic couple behaviours, mentions of an injury. Hospitalisation it’s nothing serious—mentions of blood.  Smut Warnings: smut, unprotected sex (don’t do this). Fingering, oral (male and female receiving) shower sex, multiple orgasms, squirting and using sex as an apology.   Authors Note 1: This fic will hurt quite a bit, but I like pain and write many of my experiences with my ex. It’s a form of free therapy, and it feels cathartic. Also, this story is fiction. Cheol is a fucking dick in this. This is a story that is not reflective of him or my impression of him. It is pure fiction, nothing else. Authors Note 2: Thank you so so much to my lovely @multi-kpop-fanfics for reading over this, my lovely @wooahaeproductions and @gyuwoncheol for beta'ing this fic for me 🩷 Authors Note 3: This is a Seventeen rewrite of an old Joon fic of mine, so if it looks familiar, that’s why hehe. 

Taglist: @dkluvrsclub @wooahaeproductions @stayinhellevator @aaniag @seungkwansphd @tomodachiii @gyuminusone @bitchlessdino @zezedoesshit @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @noiceoofed @joonsytip @miniseokminnies @wonwoos-wineparty @persnyako @deobienthusiast @the-boy-meets-evil @gyuswhore @gyuwoncheol @shuadotcom @multi-kpop-fanfics @ourdawnishotterthanourday @thegirlwhoimagined @starlight-night0 @dreamsbloomout @aaasia111 @wongyuuu @ana-marais98 @gaslysainz @cherrylita @highvern Part of the Broken Illusions Stories

© wongyuseokie 2024. All rights reserved

“Mia, I’m not going to go on Tinder to end a dry spell, nor am I going to sleep with any of the men here. They are all old and most likely married. I’m not keen,” you groaned to your best friend. 

Mia had dragged you out tonight because she said that you had a dry spell that needed to be broken, but you were not going to submit to your hormones, and you surely were not going to submit to some random guy on Tinder with the worst possible pick-up lines. 

“Look, I can take care of myself. Men are useless and self-obsessed,” you claimed before sipping your martini. 

“Surely not all men?” A voice spoke, making you choke on your drink. 

You wiped your face wiped it of what? quickly and turned around in your seat to face the voice’s owner. Your eyes widened like saucers upon seeing the man standing before you. You were speechless, and as your eyes scanned, trailed from his deep-set eyes, his impeccable build, and his thighs, thighs that you wanted to straddle and ride until you screamed his name over and over. 

“Nope, all men,” you quipped, making the handsome stranger smile at you, revealing his deep dimples. 

“Y/N’s been burned by useless men, men who’ve claimed to be all that and then fell short, so she’s quite cynical about most men,” Mia chimed. “Ow!” Mia yelped when you kicked her shin for oversharing. 

“Well, how about I get you another drink?” The man suggested, and Mia grinned before hopping off her barstool. 

“Great, you do that! I have an early shift tomorrow. Stay safe, Y/N,” Mia said, winking as she headed out of the bar, and you glared at her, knowing that her ‘stay safe’ comment also meant to use a condom. 

“I’m Seungcheol.” The stranger introduced himself, and you nodded, turning around to face the bar as he sat down next to you. 

“Well, you already know my name. My best friend did kind of yell it,” you deadpanned. You didn’t care how ridiculously handsome Seungcheol was. He could just be another man who could talk a big game and be useless. 

“What would you like to drink?” Seungcheol asked, and you shrugged. “Surprise me,” you said. You made a mental note that if he got you some fruity shit, you’d leave him the second the words left his mouth. 

“How about a Yuzu fizz gin and tonic?” Seungcheol offered, and you smiled at him, nodding. 

“I can guess that if I ordered something you didn’t approve of, you would have left the bar by now?” Seungcheol joked.

“Well, now you’ll never know, will you?” You joked, making Seungcheol smile again. 

“So why are you here? Trying to find Prince Charming?” Seungcheol asked with a chuckle.

“Oh, come on, be honest. I’m not one to judge,” Seungcheol encouraged, and a sly grin formed on your face. 

“If you insist, then okay,” you started to say, inching closer to him, swallowing a gulp as you took in the scent of his cologne. It was musky, spicy, and woody all at once. 

“I’ve been stuck in a painfully long dry spell, and my hand is exhausted. I just need to find someone to fuck me hard,” you answered nonchalantly, and you swore you saw Seungcheol gulp slightly. 

“You’re telling me a woman as beautiful as you has not found a man?” Seungcheol asked as he moved away to hand you your drink. You took a sip out of the glass, smiling at the taste. 

“Good?” Seungcheol asked, and you nodded. 

“Would you like to try?” You asked, and Seungcheol shook his head. 

“Maybe later?” Seungcheol replied, and you nodded.

“But to answer your question, it’s not about looks. For instance, a guy might be doing well, then he’ll say something obnoxious, and I’ll no longer be interested,” you explained.

“Fair enough, I apologise on behalf of my species. We often get too excited when we see a beautiful woman and act up,” Seungcheol clarified, making you grin. Seungcheol was incredibly handsome and sweet, but you didn’t feel anything. Nothing clicked. There was no instant chemistry; suddenly, you felt tired and bored and just wanted to be wrapped up in your blanket. 

“Well, this was nice. Thank you for the drink, but I think I will call it a night,” you said, and Seungcheol simply smiled at you. You were relieved at how he wasn’t pushy or objecting to the fact that you wanted to leave so early. Most of the men you had met would get defensive or be less than understanding if you wanted to go before they got to cop a feel.

“Wait, how are you getting home?” Seungcheol asked. 

“Walking home, it’s a twenty-minute walk,” you replied.

“Y/N, you can punch me if I step out of line, but no, you’re not walking home alone.” You sighed, but you didn’t mind entirely, plus you could kick him in the crotch if he acted up. You were cognizant enough to do so. 

“Well then, Seungcheol, since it’s a bit of a walk, shall we play a game?” You asked as you both stepped out of the bar and started to walk. 

“Seriously?” Seungcheol asked, grinning. 

 “Humour me, Seungcheol .” 

“Fine then.”

“Great, let’s play twenty questions,” and you proceeded to ask. “How old are you?” 

“30,” he replied. 

“If it’s not too rude to ask you, the same?” Seungcheol asked, and you smiled before replying, “25.” 

“I have another question if it’s not too crude?” Seungcheol asked, and you nodded at him to ask it. “When you said you wanted to be fucked hard, how hard?”  You gulped; you swore his voice had gotten deeper and huskier since he left the bar. You chalked up your reaction to the cold air, playing tricks on your mind. 

“If let’s say, hypothetically, it was me, how hard would you want me to fuck you?” Seungcheol continued , making you stop and turn to face him. His eyes were piercing and burned through any façade you had on tonight. 

“Hard enough to make me forget my name,” you whispered, earning a nod from Seungcheol. 

The rest of the walk was filled with silence, aside from a few questions from Seungcheol, but you couldn’t get the vision of him standing over you and asking you how hard you’d like to be fucked out of your head. 

“Well,” you breathed out when your eyes landed on your front door. 

“This is me,” you said, standing with your back against your front door. 

“Wait, I have one thing I want to try but don’t worry, you still have permission to knee me in the balls,” Seungcheol teased, making you chuckle, only for a second, before his soft lips landed on yours. The kiss was so light it almost felt like nothing happened, but you knew it did because you felt your heartbeat out of your chest the minute his lips grazed yours. 

“I always wanted to know what the Yuzu gin and tonic tasted like,” Seungcheol said smugly before moving away from you.

“Well, it was lovely meeting you,” Seungcheol said, leaving you speechless and breathless as he turned around and walked away from your front door. 

“Seungcheol! Wait!” He turned around, smiling at you. 

“Would you like to come in for a nightcap? We still have several questions left,” you suggested, hoping he’d say yes. Seungcheol grinned as he nodded, following you into your apartment. 

Fifteen questions in, Seungcheol and you were on your living room sofa. You were cuddling into his side, your legs on his lap. Around five questions ago, Seungcheol’s hand started trailing your exposed thighs , and  you had let out a few soft moans at his touch. 

“Question sixteen for you, Y/N,” Seungcheol said, and you laughed at him. 

“You kept count?” You asked, and Seungcheol nodded.  

“I’m very detail-oriented,” Seungcheol replied, and you rolled your eyes.. Seungcheol’s hand stopped trailing your thighs; instead, he gently squeezed them. 

“Tell me, how hard did you want to be fucked?” He asked again, and you quirked your brows at him. 

“You already asked,” you replied breathlessly, and Seungcheol shrugged. 

“Would it hurt to get details?” Seungcheol pressed staring right into your eyes. You would be lying if you said you didn’t start getting wet five questions ago, but now your core ached at his words. 

“So hard that I can’t walk, so that I’m a mumbling and whimpering mess.” You said as you moved so that you were straddling Seungcheol. You gently moved your hips against his, and you felt his length hardening. 

“Question seventeen for you. Why did you ask me for a drink tonight?” you asked as Seungcheol groaned and held your waist, stopping your movements.

“When I saw you in this dress, I couldn’t help but think about how I wanted to do nothing more than rip it off your body,” Seungcheol spoke, and you moaned at his words. His grip on your waist got tighter, and you were sure you would be bruised tomorrow, but you didn’t care. 

“Question eighteen, Y/N, are you wet right now?” Seungcheol asked, and you smirked and proceeded to reply with another question. 

“Question nineteen, Seungcheol, do you want to find out?” You asked, and Seungcheol’s eyes darkened with lust as he nodded,lifting the pushed-up hem of your dress so that it was at the waistband of your panties. 

Seungcheol looked at you for consent, and you nodded, giving it to him. He pulled your panties to the side and brushed his fingers through your folds. Seungcheol moaned at your wetness, then moved his fingers to his mouth, and relished your taste. 

“Final question, baby. What’s your safe word?” He asked.

“Peaches,” you replied.

“Peaches it is,” Seungcheol responded, content with your answer, he carried you to your bedroom to a night filled with absolute pleasure. 

You woke up the following day to soft snores; you smiled softly at Seungcheol sleeping. Seungcheol looked incredibly handsome, even with his hair ruffled and mouth open as he snored lightly. You hated how you were romanticising this one moment, especially considering that it was the result of several drinks and very sexual questions that led him to your bedroom. Still, at this moment, you wished that this would be the view you could wake up to every day. 

He was perfect. He was so sweet, loving, gentle, and kind all night long. You wouldn’t be opposed to having that type of care and affection regularly. 

You decided to get out of bed and grab your oversized nightshirt as you headed to the kitchen, leaving your bedroom quietly not to wake him up andruin the little daydream you were happily living in. 

You took a detour, making sure to head to the bathroom first, freshen up, and then head to the kitchen, where you made a cup of green tea for yourself and a cup of hot coffee for Seungcheol. In your hazy recollection of last night, you remembered Seungcheol ordering a couple of espresso martinis, so you assumed coffee would be a good idea. 

You held the mugs in your hand as you headed back to your bedroom, smiling when you saw Seungcheol sitting up, stretching, and smiling sleepily at you when he turned his head to face you. 

“Damn, and here I thought you left me,” Seungcheol joked. His deep morning voice made you feel warm, like the tea that warmed your throat with every sip. 

“It’s my house,” you replied, smiling at him and handing him a mug of coffee. 

“So, what do you do, Y/N?” Seungcheol asked. “Aside from rock my world,” he added, joking, making you roll your eyes at him. 

“I’m a freelance web designer, but I just took a break to travel with my friends for a bit, and so I’m just getting back into it.I need to go out and hustle to get clients again,” you said, and you noticed an emotion you couldn’t decipher flash across Seungcheol’s features. 

You assumed he was squinting at the morning sunlight streaming into your bedroom, but it was gloomy. Still, it was early, and maybe he was just tired. 

“What do you do?” You asked, not wanting to dwell on your thoughts for too long. 

“I’m an English Literature professor at Seoul National University,” Seungcheol said, and you couldn’t help but notice the hint of smugness that laced his tone. Still, then again, if you were a professor at the most prestigious universities in the country, maybe you, too, would behave that way. 

“So, you’re like a nerd?” You joked and knew it fell flat, noticing how Seungcheol gave you no reaction. 

“Is it still a thing to call people nerds? Youngsters these days,” Seungcheol mused, and you couldn’t help but again detect an undercurrent of an unpleasant tone that made you feel uncomfortable. You let it slide because you knew nothing about this man. 

“I enjoyed last night,” you said softly, joining him on your bed, hoping to change the topic. 

“I did, too. I didn’t think heading out for a drink after work would help me find you,” Seungcheol agreed. 

“I, uh,” you fumbled. You wanted to ask if he would be willing to see you again, and Seungcheol got the hint. 

“I want to see you again, and not just to repeat last night, but because I want to get to know you more,” Seungcheol said, and you beamed at him. 

“Shit, I need to get home and shower and get to the university, but can I have your number? I’ll text you after my lecture today, and yes, I’ll text today itself because I don’t believe in the whole bullshit of waiting for a day after to tell someone you enjoyed their company. I guess that’s something I learned with age,” Seungcheol stated. 

Then, you wondered if you felt Seungcheol’s age would be a motif you could never get rid of. 

“Wait, so the buff hot guy, you ended up going home with him and fucking him?” Mia exclaimed obnoxiously loud in the supermarket, making you glare at her as you got a few disapproving stares from fellow shoppers. 

“Oh, you need to work on your indoor voice. You will end up spilling my life story to the world,” you said, elbowing Mia, who shrugged. 

“So well, was he the kind of dick you want inside you again, or what?” Mia asked as you grabbed some pasta and put it in your shopping cart. 

“He asked me out,” you replied.“Well, sort of. He said he doesn’t believe in waiting a while to text, so he said he’d text me today because he enjoyed my company,” you clarified, and you saw Mia’s grin widen. 

“What does he do?” Mia asked. “He’s a professor of literature and SNU,” you responded.

“Damn, I need your luck to get that kind of dick on a night out, a qualified dick, if you will,” Mia joked, making you laugh. 

“I don’t know, he still hasn’t texted, and it’s nearly 7, and if he texts any later than that, it’ll just be for a hookup, and I don’t want to be a booty call,” you explained, and Mia nodded. 

“Well, he’s a professor at one of the most prestigious universities. Maybe he got busy, and if he enjoyed your company, I’m sure he doesn’t only want sex,” Mia explained. You shrugged unsurely, and your phone buzzed in your pocket as if on cue. 

Unknown Number: Hey, it’s Seungcheol. Sorry for not texting earlier like I said. Students had a lot of concerns, and it’s been a long day. I finally wrapped up, and if you haven’t made plans already, I’d like to take you out for a late-night dessert.

You smiled at your phone for what must have been  too long, considering Mia decided to nudge you. “Fucking reply, you dork, and have him for dessert because that man must be sweet,” Mia teased, wiggling her brows at you, making you roll your eyes at her as you typed a reply. 

You: Hey Seungcheol, that’s okay. Dessert? Colour me intrigued, where should I meet you?

Not even a minute afteryou sent the message, you saw the words “Seungcheol is typing,” flash across your screen, making you smile and feel giddy like a teenager having a crush. 

Seungcheol: Send me your location, and I’ll pick you up. 

You: Sure! 

You: Location sent

Seungcheol: Perfect, see you in a few! 

You grinned at your phone as Mia headed towards the check-out aisle. “Wow, he’s offering to pick you up, too. He’s already a keeper,” Mia stated, and you shrugged. 

“How?” You asked, curious to understand your best friend’s logic. 

“He’s going out of his way to meet you and pick you up; he wants to spend more time with you before the date. He isn’t simply telling you to meet him at a place. He is making the time and effort to take you out on a date after a busy day. That’s a good sign,” Mia explained, making you smile. 

You and Mia had paid for your groceries and now were waiting outside. You were conversing with Mia when a sleek black Mercedes caught your eye. It was a sexy car, and your eyes widened when Seungcheol stepped out of the car and smiled at you. 

“Sorry, I hope I didn’t keep you in the cold too long?” Seungcheol said, and you shook your head at him. 

“Not at all,” you said shyly, earning a particularly hard nudge at your side from Mia, who noticed your shyness. 

“I’m Mia, you must be Seungcheol,” she greeted, making Seungcheol laugh. 

“I remember you, you’re trouble; you were the one who was kind enough to inundate me with Y/N’s sex life that night,” Seungcheol recalled, flustering Mia and you. 

“Well, it worked out, didn’t it?” Mia countered, making Seungcheol smile, allowing his deep dimples to appear, making you smile too.

“Can’t deny that”, Seungcheol agreed, winking at you, making you smile even more, so much so that you thought your cheeks would break. 

“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” Mia said as she started to walk away.

“Wait, Mia, why don’t I drive you home before we both head out on our date? It’s cold and late,” Seungcheol offered, and for some reason, that stung. You don’t know why. She was your best friend; she’d never betray you, and Seungcheol, well, he was nothing to you right now. 

Mia looked at you nervously, and you shrugged before nodding. “Yeah, come on, girl, it’s cold out. Besides, it’s not a long drive,” you rambled nervously, and Mia nodded as she approached the car. 

Seungcheol was nothing but a gentleman, holding the door open for youfirst, letting you in the front seat next to him, and then moving to help Mia into the back seat, and you couldn’t help the ugly feeling of jealousy that stirred in the pit of your stomach. 

Why would he help her after me? You thought and shook your head to rid yourself of those thoughts. You needed to compose yourself before Seungcheol joined you in the driver’s seat. 

“Alright, Mia, why don’t you tell me your address?” Seungcheol asked, flashing her a smile. You forced another smile at your best friend, annoyed at how your emotions clouded your ability to be rational, but Mia was right. Seungcheol was a catch, and you didn’t fancy losing him to your best friend. 

The entire drive to Mia’s apartment was filled with awkward silence, aside from a couple of jokes from Seungcheol and a few nervous giggles from Mia. You kept your gaze on the road ahead, refusing to engage in the conversation. You hated how your insecurities got the better of you and ruined a good time. 

“Thank you, Seungcheol,” Mia said softly, and for a second, you wanted to roll your eyes at her when you heard how sickly sweet her voice sounded, but then you realised that’s what she always sounded  like and that your insecurity nearly caused you to ignore your best friend. You could tell Mia had noticed too as she too kept stealing worried glances at you. 

“Hey, I’d never, and I’m sorry I imposed tonight,” Mia said as she exited the car and stood by your window. You let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding and nodded. 

“I know, I’m just sorry. I got insecure,” you admitted quietly, and Mia nodded before hugging you awkwardly. 

“Have fun tonight. Remember, he wants to spend time with you. You’re not a second option,” Mia reassured, and you smiled at her, mentally noting to send her a long and apologetic text after tonight. 

Seungcheol, ever the gentleman, walked Mia to her door and waited for her to go inside before hereturned to the car, sat in the driver’s seat, and smiled at you, which you half-heartedly returned. 

“Okay, did you and Mia argue before I showed up?” Seungcheol asked, and you shook your head. “Then why did you act as if I overstepped by dropping her home?” Seungcheol questioned, and you sighed. 

“Can I blame it on insecurities, and you can drop this?” You asked, and Seungcheol’s face softened. 

“I want to spend my night with you, not her. How about I make it up to you over the best cake ever?” Seungcheol suggested, and you nodded, smiling at him. 

The drive was filled with the music in Seungcheol’s car and lo-fi remixes, and halfway along the drive, Seungcheol broke the silence. 

“So, this place is far, but I promise you it’s the best dessert place in the world. I know the owners, and I’ve known them since I was a kid, so they’re like family, so the food is legit,” Seungcheol rambled, making you smile. 

“So busy day, huh?” You asked, and Seungcheol nodded as he moved one hand off the steering wheel to lace it with yours. 

“Yeah, but seeing you made it all better,” Seungcheol replied, making you smile at him. 

“Cute,” you replied, making him grin as he drove. 

“What about you? How was your day?” Seungcheol asked, now properly holding your hand as he kept his free hand on the steering wheel and continued to drive. 

“Well, I mean, it wasn’t particularly productive. I asked a few clients if they had any upcoming projects I could assist with,” you explained 

“Well, you can’t be passive about it. If you want something, you need to chase after it,” Seungcheol explained and then winced slightly. “Fuck sorry, I’ve been with students all day, repeating this shit to them, and I automatically clicked into professor mode; sorry,” Seungcheol apologised, reaching gently to take your hand and bring it to his lips.

“You’re not exactly wrong, but maybe just keep the life coach’s advice for the kids?” You joked, and Seungcheol’s eyes lit up as he pulled into the familiar driveway of the bakery.

“We’re here!” Seungcheol exclaimed excitedly as he parked the car, getting out first and heading to help you. 

“Oh,” you said, pointing to your grocery bag.

“Leave it here; it’s cool,” Seungcheol replied. 

“Shall we?” Seungcheol asked as he closed the car door behind you and held out his hand for you; you took it, smiling as his large hand engulfed yours, making you feel safe. 

“Is that who I think it is?” A voice called out from the bakery’s back, and Seungcheol grinned, hearing the voice as he replied. 

“Halmeoni, it is. Cheol is hungry,” Seungcheol said playfully as he guided you into the bakery and a more petite older woman approached Seungcheol. 

“Oh, you are getting buffer by the day, and I see it’s paying off. Who is this beautiful woman?” The lady asked, making you smile shyly.

“Y/N, she and I are here on a date, halmeoni,” Seungcheol explained, making you grin even more. 

“Well, I’m glad to see you are dating again. After Yoona, I thought I lost you for good,” the lady added, and you felt Seungcheol’s grip on your hand tighten at the mention of Yoona. Lost him how?

“Halmeoni, not now, please,” Seungcheol warned. 

“My dear, Y/N, how rude of me. I’m Minji Kim, but you can address me as Halmeoni. Why don’t you two sit? I’ll get you the specials?” Ms. Kim offered.Seungcheol nodded as he guided you inside to find a more secluded booth to sit in. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Seungcheol said softly as you sat down. You were about to counter, saying you weren’t planning to ask him, but you decided against it. It wasn’t your place. Not tonight, at least, not on a first date. 

“This is our best-selling product and Cheol’s favourite,” Ms. Kim interrupted a couple of minutes later, as she placed a molten cake on the middle of the table and placed down two forks as well. 

“Enjoy, kids,” Ms. Kim said before she disappeared. 

“I know it looks simple,” Seungcheol started to say, “But this is the best thing ever. Open,” Seungcheol said as he picked up a forkful of the molten cake and moved the fork to your lips. You accepted the cake, letting out a hum of approval as the chocolatey taste filled your mouth. 

“Fuck, that’s amazing,” you praised, and Seungcheol smirked as he took a bite for himself. 

“Halmeoni says the love she pours into the cake makes it so delicious. She’ll never tell me her recipe, even if I beg,” Seungcheol complained, and you laughed at him. 

“Isn’t that better? Some things are better left unsaid. It might ruin the magic,” you said, and Seungcheol smiled slightly. 

“Ah, the childlike wonder, cute,” Seungcheol said, earning a funny look from you. 

“Is that a problem?” You asked, moving your hand away from him. Seungcheol shook his head. 

“No, I guess I have a very black-and-white view of the world, and sometimes I fail to account that other people don’t. I like that you see the world with all its beauty and colours,” Seungcheol explained.

“Well, stick around me long enough, and maybe you’ll see the world with a bit more colour?” you suggested, and Seungcheol shrugged. 

“We’ll see,” Seungcheol said, and you gathered from his tone that he didn’t fancy discussing this issue further. 

“Hey, you’ve got cake on your face,” Seungcheol said, leaning forward, and you assumed he’d wipe the cake off your lips. Instead, you were met with his soft lips. You melted against his lips as they moved against yours, only for him to pull away for a second and then find your lips again. You pulled away this time with a light smile. 

“Halmeoni will have the worst impression of me if all I do is make out with you here,” you joked, and Seungcheol smirked. 

“I agree. How about we finish this cake, and maybe I can show you how much I wanted to spend my day with you instead of lecturing my students?” Seungcheol suggested, and you couldn’t help how your expression changed.Seungcheol caught onto it as well. 

“I didn’t ask you out only to have sex with you, I promise. I want your company, but I also want to be able to hold your hand and maybe steal a few kisses here and there. I’d rather do that in a comfortable setting and not traumatise poor halmeoni,” Seungcheol clarified as he placed another kiss on your lips, and you hummed into the kiss. 

“Shall we?” Seungcheol asked, and you nodded.You stood up with him, placing your hand in his, and following him to the counter as he paid for the cake, much to your and halemoni’s protests. Seungcheol smiled as he walked out the bakery door, ensuring to wave to Ms. Kim. You felt yourself becoming more enamoured by his actions.  

You concluded that Seungcheol could have a hard exterior, but soft inside, much like the lava cake. He could seem slightly unapproachable with his curt and short replies, but if you dug deep enough, you knew he was filled with nothing but love and warmth, and you were determined to get to know that Seungcheol. 

You were determined that you could be that one for him, the one he’d let in. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” Seungcheol asked as his voice took you out of your daydream of becoming the future Mrs Choi. 

“I enjoyed tonight; well, everything tonight has been so incredible,” you admitted, and Seungcheol turned to smile at you, nearly running through the red light, making you laugh and gasp.

“Fuck, do you think being distracted by you is a valid reason for running a red light?” Seungcheol joked, and you shook your head at him. 

“Nope, but I think it’s cute,” you said as you placed your hand on his knee. 

“That impatient? We’re almost back at mine,” Seungcheol teased, and you rolled your eyes at him,pinching his knee a bit which made him laugh. 

The drive back to Seungcheol’s place was filled with jokes and flirty remarks.Once Seungcheol reached his apartment, he couldn’t park the car soon enough and hurriedly helped you out,practically running to his apartment with your hand in his. 

The minute you were inside his apartment, you took a second to take off your red scarf. You placed it on the coat hanger by the door and squealed in surprise when Seungcheol turned you around in his embrace, bending down to lift you into his arms and carry you over to his sofa. 

You stared at him, confused. What did he want? Was it just sex? You wondered, and Seungcheol spoke,  ending  your worries within seconds. 

“I just want to hold you like this, in my arms, look,” Seungcheol started to say as he adjusted his position so that you were lying between his body, your chin on his toned chest. “Maybe I’m moving too quickly, but I told you I don’t believe in all that bull shit of following rules. You’re the first person I’ve felt this  comfortable with for so long, so forgive me if all this is too much because I can reign it in,” Seungcheol admitted as he stroked your cheek, making you smile. 

You sat up for a second tokick off your boots, taking your position back, and laying on his chest. “I don’t need you to reign any of this in,” you reassured. Seungcheol was special; he was older, wiser, and something you had never had. You weren’t about to lose him for the sake of some social constructs relating to dating. 

You always felt like people made up or exaggerated when it came to how love made them feel.  You had friends, like Mia, who would act like they were on cloud nine or something when they were in love, and you never understood it. It wasn’t because you were traumatised as a child or anything, far from it. 

You were a happy kid, but your parents weren’t in love. You knew that your parents stayed married for your sake, and while you would always commend them for that because you knew you could never do that, you never understood the point of pretending. All that to say, you never grew up with a perfect example of what love looked like, and after shitty hookups and your fair share of fuck boys and heartbreak, you gave up on the concept. 

You didn’t hate love; you just assumed it was something inconceivable that others got, the lucky ones, and you, you didn’t think you’d ever get it. You had convinced yourself that for so long, until you met Seungcheol, until that first kiss with him.

Now, four months later, you watched your boyfriend working. 

That was your man, your safe space, your home. Even though there were petty fights and arguments, you two would make it work because that’s what people do when they’re in love. 

They fight for each other. 

“Okay, I guess I’m decent-looking enough, but you’ve been staring at my face for the past ten minutes, with a smile on yours,” Seungcheol chuckled as he looked at you. 

“Wait, I’ve been staring for that long?” You asked, feeling slightly flustered. Seungcheol nodded as he pulled you closer into his chest. 

“What’s on your mind?” Seungcheol asked as his hand traced patterns lazily on your lower back. 

“I just-,” you started to say.“Are you real?” You asked Seungcheol, who furrowed his brows at you. 

“What?” Seungcheol asked

“I don’t know, I fuck. I never believed that I could have something like this,” you said shyly, and Seungcheol smiled fondly at you. 

“Like what?” Seungcheol encouraged, and you took a deep breath to sit up and adjusted until you sat crossed-legged next to Seungcheol on the bed. He soon followed, sitting up, and leaning against his headboard. 

“Like, I always thought love was a beautiful concept, but it was a concept that others would get, not me. I never thought I would find someone who would love me, how you do, how you make me feel when you kiss me, and how I feel when I hold your hand. Seungcheol, I feel safe with you, and that’s something I never associated with love. Love was always so unrealistic to me,” you rambled and paused to look at Seungcheol, who smiled fondly at you. 

“That’s why I asked if you were real, or something I made up because I was so desperate to feel loved and to be loved,” you admitted.

Seungcheol placed his hand over yours. “You feel safe with me?” He asked.

“The safest. I feel like I’m floating. When I’m with you, I feel like you’ve taken me to a place so high, where there is nothing but love and safety,” you babbled, letting your feelings pour out and making Seungcheol smile widely at you. 

“Fuck, then, this is not a good time to say this is it?” Seungcheol said, and for a second, you felt like you had come down from the proverbial cloud you were floating on. 

“Uh, say, what?” You fumbled, and Seungcheol grinned at you before leaning over to kiss your lips softly. 

“To say that I love you,” Seungcheol admitted, making your eyes widen.  

“To be honest, I’ve been meaning to say it for a while now.I just didn’t know if it was the right time or too soon, and I didn’t want to scare you off or anything, but hearing what you said made me realise that I too have nothing to fear when I’m with you,” Seungcheol confessed, making you? at his words as you moved to crawl into his lap. 

“You love me?” You asked.

“I love you,” Seungcheol repeated, and you beamed at him. 

“I love you more.”

Four Months Later: The First Crack in the Glass

“How was work?” You asked Seungcheol one evening, and he  groaned as he flopped into your bed, wrapped his arms around your waist, and cuddled you, making you smile. Your boyfriend might have been a big shot and a fancy literature professor, but he was a giant teddy bear behind closed doors, and in moments like this, you were reminded of it. 

“You want to know?” Seungcheol asked as he sat up and stood up to take off his shirt and pull off his work clothes to change into a more comfortable pair of sweats. 

“I was teaching the kids about Sylvia Plath,” Seungcheol said slowly. 

“Oh, shit, I’ve heard of her,” you said absentmindedly, and Seungcheol let out a soft hum.

“She’s one of the greatest writers, and you’ve only heard of her?” Seungcheol asked. There was a hint of condescension in his voice, and you couldn’t help but feel like there was a hint of judgment from him. 

“Cheol, tell me about her work,” you said, trying to push down the funny feeling his words left you with. 

“I mean, what can I say? You smiled, watching him, listening intently as he fell into a soliloquy about Sylvia Plath’s writing. “The woman was troubled. Like any great artist, she used her pain to create beauty. She turned her darkest thoughts into the most beautiful words,” Seungcheol explains. 

“Who’s your favourite poet?” Seungcheol asked suddenly, and you shrugged. 

“I don’t know if I have one. Literature was something I liked, and I enjoyed everything I read. I don’t think I cared enough to love one author exclusively,” you replied, earning a grunt from Seungcheol. 

“You couldn’t have liked it enough if you can’t even tell me a favourite author. What about a poem or novel?” Seungcheol pressed, and you glared at him. 

“You sound like an arrogant prick,” you mumbled, and Seungcheol laughed and held up his hands in defeat. 

“Okay, I apologise,” Seungcheol said, but the smile on his face made you realise that he didn’t mean it. 

“I loved the play A Doll’s House,” you said, and Seungcheol’s eyes widened.

“You’re familiar with Ibsen?” He asked, unable to mask the surprise in his voice. 

“Just because I’m not some fancy fucking professor doesn’t make me stupid,” you said, inching away from him, and Seungcheol let out a soft sigh. 

“What did you love the most about the play?” Seungcheol asked. 

“I guess, like Nora, I too feel like I always need to be a certain way and that people have an expectation of what and how I should be,” you admitted, looking down at your blanket, and you felt Seungcheol pull you into his arms. 

“I hope that’s not because of my thoughtless remarks?” Seungcheol asked, cupping your face with his large hands, and you shook your head. 

“No, but I guess just life. I just see so many people my age settling down, with a family and kids, and everything, and they have a steady  job, and just everything,” you mumbled, and Seungcheol nodded, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“So? That’s their journey, not yours, my love. You will have all those things when it’s right. You don’t need to rush it,” Seungcheol said, and you smiled at him. 

“That’s one of my biggest insecurities, and I don’t think I’ve ever voiced it, not even to Mia,” you confessed.

“I appreciate that you trust me with it and know that it’s a feeling that I’ll keep safe with me,” Seungcheol promised his words making you melt. 

“You’re my safety net?” You asked, and Seungcheol nodded. 

“Yep,” Seungcheol responded. 

“Oh, babe, my friends wanted to meet you, so I asked them over to dinner at mine, join me? I want to introduce them to the woman, who, I quote, ‘makes me less of a miserable bastard’,” Seungcheol explained. 

“I’d love to,” you replied.“Wait, miserable bastard?” You asked, unable to fight the slight grin on your face. 

“When Yoona and I ended things, I was a miserable bastard,” Seungcheol explained.

“Um, not to rehash shitty memories…” you started to say, and Seungcheol’s soft smile turned into a harsh glare as he spoke. 

“Then don’t. I’m not interested in talking about her, and it’s none of your business,” Seungcheol snapped, and you nodded, feeling embarrassed for even bringing it up or attempting to. 

“There are some things in life we keep to ourselves, right? For all our lives, a secret we take to our grave, Yoona, is that for me,” Seungcheol explained, and you sighed in acceptance, wondering how awful that relationship could have been for him to be still so resentful. 

“I get it. You’ll never hear her name from me again,” you vowed.

“Thank you,” Seungcheol breathed out. 

“Fuck, does this dress look okay?” You asked, waltzing out of Seungcheol’s bathroom in a black cocktail dress. Seungcheol barely looked up as he placed the wine glasses on the dinner table. 

“Cheol,” you huffed, and he looked up at you. 

“My friends will like you; they don’t care about what you wear,” Seungcheol said, and you walked  over to the dining table with a sigh

“I get that, but still,” you trailed off, and Seungcheol shrugged. 

You were about to respond when the doorbell rang. “Cool, they’re here. Just be yourself. They’ll like you,” Seungcheol affirmed, and you sighed, nodding, as you watched him open the door for his guests. 

“Jeonghan, Chan, Mingyu, and Joshua, this my love, Y/N,” Seungcheol introduced you proudly, waving towards you as the four men walked into the house.You smiled and waved at them awkwardly. 

“Why don’t we get a few drinks, and then we can all get acquainted?” Seungcheol offered, and the rest agreed with nods and hums. 

“So, what do you do?” Jeonghan asked. 

“Well, I’m a web designer, so I do a lot of freelance work,” you explained, and Jeonghan nodded, smiling. “That’s incredibly impressive,” Jeonghan complimented. 

“What do you do?” You asked, and Jeonghan took a sip of his wine before answering. 

“I also work with your boyfriend, except I teach law,” Jeonghan replied, and you nodded. 

You were about to reply when you were suddenly interrupted by Seungcheol. “Oh, Jeonghan, don’t bore her; she’s not into the academia,” Seungcheol said. You knew he meant no harm by it, but it made you feel like an idiot. 

Did your boyfriend think you weren’t smart enough to converse with someone other than him? 

“Well, everyone likes criminal law, murders, and stuff,” Jeonghan joked, attempting to ease the tension, as he noticed how your face fell with Seungcheol’s comment. 

“I know, I love watching crime documentaries,” you added. “Same. What would you say are your favourites? Forensic files?” Jeonghan asked. 

“Y/N, you know that watching a documentary on crime, especially an extremely overproduced TV show, does not mean you understand the details of the law. You watch crime shows because you find it cool, but Jeonghan teaches the law. He respects and appreciates it immensely,” Seungcheol added, and you baulked at his words. 

“Ignore him, Y/N, this pompous literature professor thinks that if you don’t like Sylvia Plath, you’re a disgrace as a reader. Seungcheol can’t understand that while her work is untouchable, it’s too much, and that’s not a mark of one’s intelligence. Rather what they like,” Jeonghan said. His last words were directed to Seungcheol and were emphasised with a particularly intense glare at him. 

“Cheol, why don’t you look after the kids? Yeah, I think Joshua said something about replacing all your vintage books with decoys,” Jeonghan offered, and you were thankful for his comment as Seungcheol stalked off to the kitchen. 

Jeonghan looked at you sympathetically before motioning for another man to join you in the conversation. He looked younger, and he had a bright smile. 

“This is Chan. He’s the baby of the group,” Jeonghan said, and you couldn’t help but think that his words were a dig at you, but you saw no malice in his voice. He just wanted you to meet another face. 

You started a conversation with Jeonghan and Chan; this time, it was just about lighthearted topics. Thankfully, Seungcheol didn’t interrupt with a patronising comment. 

“Dinner’s set!” Seungcheol announced, and you sighed. You finally felt better about what happened between you two earlier, but you decided to swallow your pride and join him at the dining table. 

“No way you did all this, Cheol,” A man you vaguely remember called Mingyu mumbled, and Seungcheol laughed. 

“True, my love here..” Seungcheol said as he moved closer to you and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you in to kiss your cheek softly. 

“She helped. I would have burnt the bloody house down,” Seungcheol said.You took a deep breath before nodding in agreement. 

You decided you’d chalk up Seungcheol’s initial crappy behaviour to him just being nervous, and maybe he just wanted to save you from a boring conversation but just had a terrible way of executing his plan. 

You’d let it go and try to enjoy the rest of the night. 

Except, that didn’t go to plan. Several minutes into the conversation, Seungcheol’s grip on your hand loosened, and by the time dessert was placed, Seungcheol had his chair tilted so that his back was facing you and no longer looking at you or engaging you in the conversation. 

You felt awkward. Everyone in the room knew each other except you. You were the odd one out, and your boyfriend seemed completely fine ignoring you, too. You didn’t want him to coddle you, but you didn’t expect him to turn his back on you. 

You placed your hand on Seungcheol’s back once to get his attention, but he merely shrugged it off, and you felt tears threatening to spill, so you politely and wordlessly excused yourself, not that anyone noticed. 

You excused yourself to Seungcheol’s study, where you found yourself a bottle of wine, and decided to sip that and stayed all night and didn’t emerge until after dinner and his friends left. 

“Hey, I thought I’d find you here. Why didn’t you join us for dinner? I told them you came down with a headache, but I got to say you didn’t make me look good, doing that,” Seungcheol explained as he walked into his study, and you rolled your eyes at him as you took another sip of your wine. 

“I just wanted to introduce you to my friends, and you just decided you couldn’t be bothered?” Seungcheol scolds, and you scoff. 

“Why are you so pissed off?” Seungcheol asked as he sat across you, and you stood up and walked over to the window. 

“I’m not pissed off. Who said I was pissed off?” You said sarcastically, and Seungcheol sighed.

“You’re acting pissed off,” Seungcheol added. You sighed before speaking. 

“You acted like I was a fucking dumbass; what the hell was the comment you gave to Jeonghan? That I’m not into academia, or that I can't understand the law because I watch a Netflix show about crime? You made me look like a fucking moron,” you spat.

“Look, whenever I try to show you anything about my work, you get bored, and you either fall asleep or can’t keep up. I was trying to save you that with Jeonghan,” Seungcheol replied, and you stared at him in shock. 

“I don’t fall asleep because I’m not interested. I fall asleep because you talk to me like a student. You lecture me; if you spoke to me about your work the way you do with your friends, with that same enthusiasm, then maybe I’d pay more attention, but you fucking don’t!” You shot back, making Seungcheol sigh. 

“So, what was I meant to do? Let you try and have a conversation with Jeonghan about the law, something you know nothing about?” Seungcheol asked, and you nearly slapped the smug look off his face.

“Fuck you. You don’t need to have a master’s degree or prior knowledge about a subject to be interested in it and for fucks sake. I just wanted to get to know your friends, but whenever I tried, you intercepted the conversation with a comment that just made me sound like a fucking child,” you yelled at him, and Seungcheol groaned. 

“This was meant to be a good night, and you’re making it all about you,” Seungcheol mumbled. 

“Me? How? You barely acknowledged me, you turned your fucking chair around and didn’t look at me during dinner. You barely tried to include me. Your friends, they’re all older than me, and you made no fucking effort to include me,” you yelled at Seungcheol.

“You have a mouth. You could speak up. No one would stop you,” Seungcheol offered, earning a glare from you. 

“Why would I fucking do that? Whenever I contribute anything, you show up to either call me an idiot, or when I do try to get your attention actively, you fucking shrug me off. Do you know how that feels?” You asked, your voice trembling. 

“Fuck don’t cry. That’s not fucking fair. I don’t even remember the fact I shrugged you off. You can’t attack me for something I don’t even know about,” Seungcheol retaliated. 

“Fuck can you just acknowledge that you fucked up a little bit? You’re making me feel so fucking stupid,” you choked out, and Seungcheol shrugged. 

“I don’t think I’m making you feel that way. I think you’re making yourself feel that way,” Seungcheol offered, and you glared at him.

“Fine, then, if I’m so fucking stupid. Then, I should just let you be. I’m going home. I don’t want you to feel even more stupid with me around,” you snarled, slamming your wine glass down hard enough to startle Seungcheol but not hard enough to break the glass. 

You stormed out of the room as Seungcheol helplessly followed after you. “Wait, Y/N, fucking wait. It’s late, please just stay until the morning, and I’ll drop you off; I can’t drive you home yet, I’ve had too much to drink for it to be safe,” Seungcheol argued, and you scowled at him. 

“I don’t fucking need this. I can take a cab,” you said, grabbing your phone, and Seungcheol shook his head at you. 

“Not a fucking chance, not so late, please; just let me sober up, and I’ll drive you back?” Seungcheol pleaded, and you gave in.

“I’m going to clean up,” you said, shoving past him and heading into the kitchen as you started to clean up the mess. 

“Let me help,” Seungcheol offered, and you ignored him. “Babe, please, I’m fucking sorry, just let me help you?” Seungcheol asked again, and you failed to notice how close he was standing next to you. You bumped into him, managing to drench yourself in red wine. 

“Fuck,” you hissed out as the tears threatened to spill over.

“Go, take a shower, I’ll clean up,” Seungcheol said, taking the glasses out of your hands, and you nodded as you silently walked back to the bedroom and stripped, putting your black dress in the laundry hamper and stepping into the shower.

You felt the tears stream down your face. As you washed up, you started to rationalise the fight in your mind. Maybe you had overreacted, or maybe Seungcheol just got caught up in the moment, hell you’ve been guilty of that yourself when you meet your friends, so why should you hold him to a different standard?

You stepped out of the shower, wrapped yourself in one of Seungcheol’s fluffy white towels, and headed out of the bathroom to find Seungcheol sitting looking forlorn on the edge of the bed. 

“I’m fucking sorry,” Seungcheol mumbled, and you sighed as you leant against the wall. 

“I may have overreacted a bit. I just wanted to feel loved, but I get it, time and place,” you said. 

“I do love you, and tonight I acted like a fucking ass. I just wanted to impress my friends, and I did it at your expense. Can you forgive me?” Seungcheol asked. 

“I can,” you said, holding out your hand to him, which he took and walked over until he was towering over you.

“How can I make it up to you?” Seungcheol asked as he placed a soft kiss on your lips, which you gladly reciprocated. 

“Well,” you started to say as you undid the towel, letting it drop to the floor, and Seungcheol smiled at you. 

“You want to make it up to me, Cheol?” Seungcheol nodded furiously. You reached down and placed your hand gently on the top of his head and moved his head so his face was at your cunt. 

“Show me how sorry you are,” you said, guiding his head into your pussy. Seungcheol gently pushed your back into the wall. He lifted your leg and wrapped it around his shoulder. He started by placing soft kisses, gently kissing your cunt. He ran his tongue over your folds, moaning as he tasted your arousal. 

“So sweet,” Seungcheol praised and dove back in with more desperation. He moved his tongue to your clit, and flicked his tongue against it. You moaned in approval, and he continued his movements. 

He suddenly pulled his mouth away from your core, lifted you, and walked over to your bed. He laid you down gently, and his mouth found your cunt again. Seungcheol positioned himself on his knees at the edge of the bed, his tongue now reaching your entrance. He pushed his tongue inside you, and you mewled at the feeling. He shoved his tongue further into your cunt, and his hand reached your clit. 

He rubbed at the swollen nub, and you soon found yourself cumming on his tongue. Your hips bucked against his face as you rode out your orgasm. As soon as you got down from your high, Seungcheol shoved two fingers into your pussy making you squeal at the oversensitivity. 

He pushed his fingers deep inside of you until he reached a rough patch of skin, and you squealed. He smirked, and he started moving his wrist up and down, making his fingers repeatedly hit the spot inside you. It had you seeing stars. 

Your second orgasm hit you harder as you felt yourself squirt for him. You were clawing at the bedsheet for support; the way he made your body feel was incredible. He latched his full lips around your swollen clit as he furiously pumped his fingers inside you, and a few short licks and you fell apart again. 

You whimpered into the bedsheet, which was now soaking wet, and you reached your hands out for him. He smirked, and he pushed you back further onto the bed as he stripped himself. Seungcheol then climbed over and on top of you. He grabbed your legs and wrapped them around his waist. His hard cock was resting against your aching cunt. Just seeing his length made you delirious. 

He was so thick the first time you had sex with him, you couldn’t even comprehend his thickness. He made you feel so full and had indeed ruined you for other men. His length was perfect, it was able to go deep inside you, and the thickness another word allowed you to feel so good. He filled you up. You bucked your hips against him, rubbing your wet folds against his cock, and he hissed at that. He pushed himself into you, and you moaned at the stretch. 

His hands moved to unwrap your legs and positioned them around his neck. The new position allowed him to go deeper, and he pushed deep into your cunt.  His thrusts were  paced perfectly. Slow enough to make you feel every inch of his cock, and fast enough to make you moan. 

“Harder, Cheol,” you whimpered, and Seungcheol smirked. He pulled out of you and flipped you over onto your hands and knees. He realigned himself and pushed into you.

You and Seungcheol always played rough and pushed each other beyond your limits. Your pussy was making obscene noises as you had cummed so hard. He picked up his pace, knowing he would not last much longer, and his grip went to your throat. You somehow found the ability to tap his hand, letting him know to choke you harder. You liked it, and so did he. 

His grip around you tightened. He pushed into you, and you fell apart again. This time, you screamed into the pillow, and Seungcheol released not too long after you. He flipped you back over, laying you down on your back. He moved down again to your pussy, and licked and sucked. He moaned, tasting your release and his. 

He always did this; he wanted to lick your pussy after cumming inside you. You didn’t complain. A few more licks and one final suck to your entrance, and you came once again. He placed the last kiss on your cunt and pulled you into his arms. 

“I’m still so fucking sorry,” Seungcheol apologised, and you rolled over to place your head on his chest. 

“It’s okay, just don’t do it again?” You said, and Seungcheol nodded, pulling you into a soft kiss as he held you until you fell asleep in his arms. The feeling of safety was still there, but why did it feel like there was a slight tear in the safety net that was your love?

You shook it off, thinking it was expected. Couples fought. 

You two would be fine. 

“Morning gorgeous,” Seungcheol mumbled the following day as he wrapped his arms around your waist while you made tea. 

“Hi,” you replied, turning around to face him as he pulled you into a soft kiss. 

“I want to talk to you about something,” Seungcheol said, and you looked at him nervously. 

“Chill, it’s not a bad thing. Well it is, but it doesn’t affect us,” Seungcheol explained as he guided you into the living room and onto the sofa. 

“Yoona, she was my first love, my first everything. Well, not everything, but she sure felt like it. I thought she and I would be together for the rest of our lives. I proposed, and she said yes, and somewhere along the road, everything went wrong. I found out she cheated several times while we were engaged,” Seungcheol explained as you held your breath. 

“So, whenever she is mentioned, I get agitated because she ruined me and made me cynical until I met you. You make me happy, happier than I’ve been in a very long time,” Seungcheol explained, and you sighed, feeling terrible for him. 

“I want to continue making you happy for a long time, Seungcheol. I won’t ever hurt you like her,” you promised, making him smile at you. 

“I love you, and I’m sorry for last night. Look, there’s a cocktail party at the university next Friday evening. I’d like you there and want to show you off to everyone. I want to show off my girl,” Seungcheol said proudly. 

“I’d like that,” you said, placing your lips on his plush ones. 

You, too, would be fine. It was a slip-up, not a crack in the safety net—just a slip. 

“Good god, I was starting to think that Seungcheol had kidnapped you or something,” Mia joked, making you laugh nervously as she entered your apartment and hugged you tightly. 

“Why would you think that?” You asked, genuinely concerned about why your best friend had such a vivid imagination. 

“Well, you’ve only spoken to me a few times within the four months that you and Seungcheol have been dating, and I say this with as much honesty as I can. Don’t become one of those girls that ditches all her friends once she finds a guy,” Mia joked, but you knew there was some weight to her words. 

“Mia, that was in university, and it happened once. I’m not the same person anymore,” you defended, and Mia nodded. 

“So why did you want me to come over, girls’ night, or trouble in paradise?” Mia asked, and how you chewed your bottom lip nervously was enough of a tell for Mia to sigh and understand. 

“Why don’t you sit? I’ll grab the wine, and I’ll explain everything,” you explained another word, and Mia nodded as she kicked off her shoes and got comfortable on your couch. 

You handed her a glass of cabernet and held another glass for yourself as you sat down on the sofa and started telling her about every detail for the last four months. It was going well until you finished recalling the details of last night’s fight. 

“Wait, he did fucking what, and you fucking forgave him? Why because he made you cum?” Mia accused, and you cringed. You had just finished recounting the entire story of the dinner with Seungcheol. 

“He made a mistake,” you mumbled, and Mia scoffed. “A mistake is forgetting to order dessert, not ignoring your girlfriend, or treating her like she’s a bumbling idiot!” Mia fired back, making you sink into your seat. 

“Sorry, you need to talk to him about this. Sex is not an apology, and why did you forgive him? Did he just gaslight you into  forgiving him? Is that what happened? Did he say that you’re being crazy or shit like that?” Mia interrogated, and you kept shrinking in your seat. 

“Mia, shut up. Stop using such extreme words for him,” you whimpered. You didn’t like how loud her voice had gotten, and she sighed. 

“He used sex as an apology. Y/N, do you not know how big of a red flag that is? And the fact that you gave in makes it even worse because you’ve now set the precedent that he can pull this sort of shit with you, and you’ll forgive him if he makes you cum hard enough!” Mia rattled off, and you wanted to smack her if it meant shutting her up. Instead of being rational, you decided to defend your boyfriend, even if it meant doing it at the expense of hurting your best friend. 

“Mia fuck you. You were in a relationship with, what was that guy’s name, you remember, the one who cheated on you for four months straight, and you kept taking him back. You’re going to lecture me about being spineless in my relationship when you let a guy walk all over you for four months straight because you were so fucking desperate!” You snarled and regretted the minute the words left your lips because you saw how hurt overtook Mia’s face and how her lower lips trembled. 

“I haven’t seen this side of you in a while. You were like this in university, where once you fell for a guy, you became blind to his every flaw and then lashed out at anyone who tried to tell you otherwise. You know what, Y/N, you know where I live. Find me when you decide to take off your rose-coloured glasses. I can’t bear the sight of you right now,” Mia said, placing the wine glass down on your coffee table and storming out of your house. 

You felt awful, but Mia was wrong to assume that Seungcheol would use sex as an apology instead of actually apologising instead. You shook your head and sighed, finishing your glass of wine. You would reach out to Mia eventually.

“Fucking hell, you look beautiful, my love. I might just be the luckiest man alive,” Seungcheol praised as you stepped out of your bedroom. 

You wore a red evening gown that exposed enough of your chest to be enticing but also respectable for a formal event at a university. You topped off your look with makeup that brought out your best features and slipped on red strappy heels. 

“Shall we?” Seungcheol asked.You looked up at him. He was wearing a black suit, and you honestly wanted to skip the university party and have him take you right here. Now, as if he could read your thoughts, Seungcheol laughed. 

“Don’t worry, you can rip this suit off me after tonight,” Seungcheol said, making you laugh too as you took his hand and headed to the party. 

“Y/N! So lovely to see you again,” Jeonghan greeted when you and Seungcheol entered the venue. 

“What about me?” Seungcheol joked childishly, making Jeonghan roll his eyes.

“Needy, isn’t he?” Jeonghan teased, and you laughed.

“But you love me,” Seungcheol said, and you smiled

“I do,” you said, making him smile backbefore he looked  up, and he suddenly froze as his eyes fixated on a figure across the room. 

“Cheol?” You asked, noticing how Jeonghan also looked tense as both men intently stared at the figure, now making her way across the room to greet them. 

“Jeonghan, my favourite law professor, you know my students miss you dearly!” The lady joked. 

“Yoona,” Jeonghan acknowledged, and you, like Seungcheol, felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. 

This was Yoona? 

This was the woman that broke Seungcheol’s heart? This woman, who Seungcheol failed to explain, worked alongside him. She was a colleague of his. He saw her every day at work, and nowhere during the four months did he think to mention that he still worked alongside his ex-fiancé. 

You also felt Seungcheol let go of your hand, and you could have sworn he inched away from you. 

“Seungcheol, it’s so lovely to see you, and who might this be?” Yoona asked as her gaze turned to you, making you gulp and then pale in horror as Seungcheol could not answer for a second. 

“She’s a friend,” Seungcheol mumbled, and you saw Jeonghan shake his head slightly, and you sighed at him, holding your hand to out to Yoona

“Pleasure to meet you. How do you know Seungcheol?” You asked, feigning innocence, and you heard Seungcheol fail to bite back a hiss. 

“I’m a colleague of his, and oh, I guess we have some history, actually pun intended on that.I teach art history here. Are you a prospective student?” Yoona asked, and you stared at her and looked back to see Seungcheol ’s poker face staring back at you. 

“No, I’m not a student. I’m amazed that you’d think that,” you replied, unable to keep the slight bite use a different word your tone had to it. 

“Well, what do you?” Yoona asked, and you were about to answer when Yoona beat you to the punch.

“Well, you must be a fellow academic. Our Cheol here has a type,” Yoona said as she shot you a wink and waltzed away from the conversation, leaving you a mess and Seungcheol angry. 

“Okay, I’m going to leave you two to it,” Jeonghan said as he rushed off too. You started to feel the room close in on you and you just wanted to leave.

“Would you excuse me? I need to make a phone call,” you said hastily as you ripped your arm out of Seungcheol’s hold and nearly ran out of the ballroom and outside to a quieter area of the venue until you found a secluded bench to sit on as you gathered your thoughts. 

“I thought I’d find you here,” you turned around to see Seungcheol standing, staring at you withhis hands in his pockets and looking at you with an emotion you couldn’t decipher. Was it guilt or annoyance? 

“That’s Yoona?” You asked, and Seungcheol simply stared at you. 

“The Yoona?” You repeated, and Seungcheol sighed, nodding as he walked over to stand across from you. You could not look at him. 

“What?” Seungcheol asked, and you let out a dry laugh at his ability to be so damn obtuse. 

“This is the woman who broke your fucking heart. You work alongside her, and you never once thought to, oh, I don’t know, mention that she is not only your ex but your fucking colleague?” You snarled another word, and Seungcheol sighed. 

“Grow up, adultshave to- what?” Seungcheol paused mid-speech when he saw you glaring at him. 

“Do not fucking patronise me. This is not an age issue. Your ex,who at the mention of her name, you become a frigid bastard.You failed to mention that you work with her!” You repeated, raising your voice. 

“What do you fucking expect me to do to? Run away? We met here, fuck, I’m a grown man. I can’t run from my problems!” Seungcheol shouted back, and you sighed. 

“You don’t get it do you?” You choked out. 

“No, because you’re acting like a fucking child, and I am not one. I need to deal with every situation, no matter how unpleasant it is!” Seungcheol spat. 

“Fuck, shut the fuck up about being more mature because you’re not, not even for a fucking second. How the fuck do you expect to have a future with me when your past is there in front of your eyes every fucking day, and the worst part is that you never told me. You act as if I gave you this new lease on love, but now I don’t know if that’s something you can sustain because the woman who broke your heart is your colleague. What if one day she wants to try again? How do I know that I know that you won’t go running?” You rambled, letting a tear slide down your face. 

“You’re being selfish and so fucking unfair,” Seungcheol retorted.“Do you not think so?” Seungcheol asked rhetorically

.“Fucking hell, I told you she cheated on me while I was fucking engaged. Do you think I have no dignity or some shit that I’d go back running to the woman who ruined me?” Seungcheol yelled, and you shrank into yourself. 

“Can you just do what I do, and fucking grow up and realise that in life you need to put up with people who you may not what anything to do with, but that’s what being an adult is like?” Seungcheol continued to yell, each word piercing your heart. 

“Oh, then again, what would you fucking know about being an adult? You are a 25-year-old with no fucking direction in life. You have no stable job or anything stable. In contrast, all your friends are either settling down, and you fuck, you sit at home with no motivation to go out and find yourself some work,” Seungcheol yelled, using your biggest insecurity against you.

“You have no fucking stability, and you act like a fucking child, so don’t you dare lecture me on how to behave,” Seungcheol spat and then sighed deeply when he realised what he said. 

“Y/N-,” Seungcheol started to say, and you held your hand up to him.

“No, fuck don’t, Cheol, don’t you fucking dare. You used my biggest insecurity against me. Who the fuck does that, huh?” You asked, and Seungcheol sighed, looking down. 

“As for stability, you’re right. I don’t have a ton, but if there was something that I thought gave me some semblance of stability, I thought it’d be you.I thought that at least it would you, but you aren’t my safety net anymore, are you?” You yelled, and Seungcheol looked down in shame. 

“I’m sorry. I told you seeing her makes me turn into something else!” Seungcheol weakly defended, and you glared at him. 

“No. Fuck you, you don’t get to do this. What about being an adult, huh? Being an adult means not getting set off by every situation that doesn’t favour you. Instead, it’s about finding ways to cope. It’s about setting boundaries, so your past doesn’t hurt you and hurt the people in your present,” you choked out the last word as Seungcheol took a step forward towards you. 

“Y/N,” Seungcheol started to say, and you ignored him. 

“Just fucking go back to your party. I’m going home. I’ll text you, but please leave me alone for tonight,” you said, pushing past Seungcheol.

“Please let me know when you get home,” Seungcheol said weakly, and you rolled your eyes at him. 

“I said I would, didn’t I? Now, fucking move,” you spat, storming out of the garden and out of the venue as you waited for your Uber to arrive. 

You had barely gotten home that night when you heard someone pounding on your front door. You groaned, knowing it was Seungcheol. You glared at the front door, hoping that if you ignored the incessant pounding, then he’d get the hint and he’d just leave, but Seungcheol was relentless. You knew that. 

You sighed, walking to the front door and opening it to reveal your teary-eyed boyfriend.

“Baby, can I please explain?” Seungcheol asked, and you ignored him as you let him into your house, and he closed the front door behind him. 

You started walking back into the house, Seungcheol trailing behind you. Once you were inside, you turned to him, and before you could say anything. Seungcheol dropped to his knees, hugging your waist, begging for forgiveness. You ran your hands through his hair.

“Cheol, it’s okay.” 

Seungcheol carried you to the shower, where he helped you shower and clean. He helped you dry up and pulled you into his arms once you were both curled up on the bed. 

Seungcheol ’s fingers were gently ghosting your cunt. You felt him turn you to face him; he captured your lips in his full ones. His hand finding your core, rubbing your clit, he did this till you fell apart. He repeated that almost four times until he pushed himself inside you till he came. 

You couldn’t sleep that night. Only one question plagued your mind. 

Since when did sex make up for an apology? 

You woke up the following day sore and worn out. Not just from the fight last night that left you out and alone in the cold but also from Seungcheol fucking you into the mattress. You heard faint snores from him, and you took it as an opportunity to get some alone time. You wondered, did he think sex would make up for what had happened? 

After showering and cleaning yourself up, you headed to the kitchen to make breakfast, subconsciously making breakfast for two. You were stirring the noodles waiting for the water to boil, when you felt two strong arms wrap around your waist. You felt Seungcheol place kisses along your neck, and you melted into his embrace for a second until the events of last night came back to you. 

“Cheol, can you set the table up? I’ll get breakfast ready.” You said and you felt Seungcheol press a kiss to your cheek before  running off to set the dining table. Once you made your way over with the contents of breakfast, you sat down and started to eat. 

“Baby?” Seungcheol’s voice broke the silence, and you looked up to see him staring at you. His eyes were red, brimming with tears. You felt your heart clench. 

“Y/N, I’m so sorry about last night,” Seungcheol started to apologise again; his voice was breaking as he tried to contain himself.

“Which part, Seungcheol? The part where you failed to introduce me as your girlfriend, or the part where you threw my insecurities against me, or the part where you told me to grow the fuck up?” You fumed.

“All of it, all of it,” Seungcheol said, standing up to kneel in front of you. “I fucked up so much, but,” Seungcheol started to say, and you interrupted him. 

“If you think that fucking me last night made it better, it didn’t because now I’m wondering if you think sex is the solution to all our problems,” you said. 

“Never, I just, I’m shit with words at times, and I knew that at least my actions could prove my love to you. It’s a shit thing to do, but I didn’t do it to distract you from last night,” Seungcheol replied. 

“I want to talk about everything, but I want a breakdown of everything. First, why did you pull away from me when you saw Yoona? Were you embarrassed?” you asked, your voice breaking, and Seungcheol shook his head. 

“Of course not,” Seungcheol replied swiftly, and you glared at him.

“Because all I do wonder if when you call what we have love, you never call it what it is,” you admitted, and Seungcheol sighed as he stood up. 

“Come on, let’s talk on the couch,” Seungcheol offered, and you stood up, taking Seungcheol ’s hand as you walked over to your couch. 

“I tell you, I love you,” Seungcheol said, and you nodded.

“You do tell me that you love me, but the way you do it is like it’s a secret,” you mumbled, feeling a tear roll down your cheek. 

“I get that I’m younger, and I’m not some fancy professor with a huge savings account, but the way you act at times, you act like you are ashamed of me. Fuck, for Yoona to say that you deviated from your type to date me. What does that mean? Am I some charity case, where you’ll date a non-academic girl, and then later I’ll be a notch in your belt, a funny story to tell over Christmas, with your real wife, and everything?” You babbled as you broke into a sob, and you felt Seungcheol pull you into his arm as he hugged you tightly.

“You think about a future with me?” Seungcheol asked, and you scoffed. 

“Is that all you took from everything I just said?” You asked.

“No, but it gave me hope. Look, Yoona brings out the worst in me, and you were right last night to tell me that as adults, we can let that jar us or act out because that’s life, right? Meeting people and getting to know people you may not like is life, but Yoona, at one point, was my life. She was my future until she ruined it. Every time I see her, I lash out because I’m brought back to the headspace that I was in when she cheated,” Seungcheol explained, pausing to take a breath. 

“She reminds me of every insecurity I had, she takes me back to a very dark headspace, and instead of working my way out of that, I lash out because fuck, I’m scared that it’ll happen again,” Seungcheol admitted looking down. 

“You think I’d cheat on you?” You asked.

“No, but you’re young, gorgeous, and still have so much ahead of you. I woudn’t blame you if you found someone your age,” Seungcheol mumbled, making you scoff again. 

“I’m with you, aren’t I? Unless this is your plan? Pushing me so far that I no longer want to be with you? Is that what you’re trying to do?” You asked, and Seungcheol shook his head immediately. 

“Then why the fuck is this constantly an issue?” You snapped, and Seungcheol winced slightly at your tone. 

“I guess when I first started dating you, you were so different and, in a good way, a fresh breath of air, but everyone around me started joking that maybe you know it was just a fling because we are so opposite at times. However, as the months with you progressed, I know that’s not it.I know I love you, and I’m so fucking sorry that for so long I made you feel otherwise,” 

Seungcheol paused to take a breath. “I love you, and I am serious about this. I want to make this work, I do,” Seungcheol admitted another word. 

“Then stop lashing out at me and talk to me. Stop running away from me, run to me instead,” you said softly, and Seungcheol smiled at you. 

“I didn’t mean what I said about you having no stability. It was so fucking shitty of me to use your insecurity against you. I just, fuck, there’s no excuse, I’m just fucking sorry,” Seungcheol apologised, his head hanging low. 

“Yeah, that stung. Look, how about we take a week, cool off, and I guess  catch up in a week?” You offered, and Seungcheol agreed. 

“How’s this, I’ll plan a getaway for us, and I’ll cook us food too!” Seungcheol suggested, and you laughed. 

“I’ll follow a recipe to a tee and have Mingyu monitor me?” Seungcheol proposed making you grin at him. 

“Fine, but if I get sick from your food,” you started to say, and Seungcheol laughed. 

“Then I’ll kiss it all better for you,” Seungcheol said lamely. 

“I’ll see you in a week, my love, and remind you why you fell in love with me,” Seungcheol promised as he placed a soft kiss on your lips, and you  smiled as you watched him walk away. 

You let out a breath you didn’t realise that you were holding when he walked away. You nodded to yourself. You and Seungcheol would be fine, this was a slight tear in the safety net, but you two would be fine, you convinced yourself, for it was only a tiny tear. 

“Hey,” you mumbled, embarrassed, as Mia opened her front door the following evening. 

“What, have you come here to tell me I deserve no love or something?” Mia spat, and you felt like you had been slapped, and looked down in shame. You deserved that much. 

“Mia, I fucked up. Can we talk, though?” You asked, holding the box of doughnuts in your hand, and she sighed, nodding as she let you in. 

“So, what, I’m assuming the Mr. Perfectly Wrong fucked up again?” Mia mocked, and you sighed as you kicked off your shoes and sat on her couch. 

“He was engaged in the past, and she was like his dream girl,” you said, unable to stop the way your voice trembled at recalling Yoona and realising how she was the opposite of you. She was dignified, elegant, older, wiser, or whatever other negative thought you tortured yourself with. 

“She still works with him. They both teach at the university; he never told me, Mia. I had to find out because I met her at a university event,” you mumbled, unable to stop the tear that slid down your face. 

Mia sighed as she sat down next to you, and you took it as a positive sign to launch into the story of the fight. 

“Oh, that mother fucker!” Mia swore, and you flinched at her expression. 

“Mia, he was hurt,” you mumbled, and she scoffed. 

“How many excuses do you want to give this piece of shit? I get that love is blind. I fucking do. You cruelly pointed it out to me, but let me tell you something, my love, he’s blinded you. He’s no good for you. He’s condescending, judgmental, rude, and worst of all you keep forgiving him when he gives you half-assed apologies!” Mia ranted, making you look down in shame. 

“Is that who you want to fucking be with?” Mia asked. “A man who keeps you like a secret, aman who acts like you’re a kid, a man who talks down to you?”  You sighed.

“Maybe it’s just a bad spell. He’s not like this, ever,” you defended, and Mia groaned, rubbing her forehead. 

“This man, I don’t care how good the sex is or how amazing the good moments are. The good moments aren’t enough to mask that he is inherently flawed and has a complex. A complex that he will project onto you, and you will struggle to try to meet the ideal woman in his head. Still, you’ll try all your life because that woman doesn’t exist, and not to be unkind, but it’s because that woman will never exist for him. He doesn’t know what he wants,” Mia explained, calming down as she sat down next to you. 

“He said he loved me,” you mumbled weakly, and Mia nodded. 

“I’m not denying that he cares for you, but his ego comes before you, Y/N. You will bend over backward for this man, and you have, but see if he even bothers to put in an ounce of that same effort that you put into this relationship,” Mia continued , and you glared at her. 

“You know what? I didn’t come here to be yelled at. I get enough of that from him!” You seethed, and Mia frowned at you. 

“There, right there, if you can’t even figure out what’s so fucked up about that sentence, then I don’t know what even to tell you,” Mia said.  

“We’ve hit a rough spot, but we’ll be fine,” you shouted, almost as if you were convincing yourself more than Mia. 

“You know what, I’ll be here when this illusion is broken,” Mia mumbled, standing up, and you took that as your cue to leave. 

You stormed out of Mia’s house and drove straight to Seungcheol’s. 

“Baby?” Seungcheol asked when he opened the door and saw your downcast expression. 

“What’s wrong?” Seungcheol asked, and you shook your head at him.

“Can I stay here? I know we’re meant to meet at the end of the week, but I just need you,” you asked.

“Of course, my love, you know where everything is. I just have to grade one more paper. Then I’ll join you?” Seungcheol asked. 

You were so worn out from the week's dramatics that you quickly showered, changed into one of Seungcheol ’s shirts, and headed to bed. You curled up in Seungcheol ’s bed. You smiled when you felt him join you later that night, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

Protecting you, never letting you go, he was your safe space. 

You woke up the following morning to something stroking your thighs, and you opened your eyes to see Seungcheol ’s head placed between your legs. He was kissing your inner thighs, slowly making his way to your cunt. 

You moaned as you spread your legs, placing them onto his shoulders. Seungcheol ’s luscious lips wrapped around your clit.

As he sucked, his pressure was perfect. He pushed in two fingers and thrust them in your cunt, as he sucked on your clit. He licked and fingered until you came around his fingers. Occasionally, he would run his tongue up and down your wet folds but always go back to your cunt. 

“Morning, princess,” Seungcheol greeted as he hovered over your body and captured your lips in a sweet kiss. It felt like the first time you slept with him. 

Passionate yet soft, you felt loved, and that was not something you felt in his embrace for a while. 

“Morning, handsome,” you mumbled sleepily as Seungcheol pulled you on top of him. You felt his cock hard and waiting. You moved and sat up and slowly sank on his length. 

“Fuck!” You let out a groan of pleasure. He felt so good inside you. You lifted your legs and started moving your hips, riding him. You felt his grip tighten on your thighs as he helped you ride him. 

You wanted to see him fall apart underneath you. You trailed your hands to his fingers, and your nails grazed his nipples, making him buck into you. You moaned as his hips pushed his cock deeper inside you. You kept riding him until you felt him still and released inside you. You sighed, feeling his warmth fill up your cunt. You hadn’t cum yet, and Seungcheol knew that. 

“Princess, over here,” Seungcheol motioned to your mouth, and you moved, legs shaking as you sat on his waiting tongue. Seungcheol, as always, licked you clean of his cum. 

You both were still in bed in the afternoon, simply embracing and kissing each other, when Seungcheol spoke, breaking the silence. 

“So, do you want to make the trip a little earlier?” Seungcheol asked, and you looked at him, smiling. 

“Can you take leave on such short notice?” You asked. 

“Baby, it’s reading week for the students, so yes, I don’t need to worry about them for now. I want to focus on us.”

~~A Trip Upstate~~

“Got everything?” You asked Seungcheol for the fifth time. You had to stop yourself from laughing as your boyfriend kept going back and forth between his apartment and his car, forgetting something with each trip. 

“Wait, oh, for the fucking love of god. I forgot the car keys,” Seungcheol groaned as he ran back into the house, and you laughed at him some more. You were still laughing when he came back. 

“Hi,” Seungcheol said sweetly as he wrapped his arms around your waist, capturing you in a warm hug. 

“I like seeing you like this, happy and laughing,” Seungcheol said, making you smile at him. 

“Well, you make me laugh and happy,” you admitted, placing your chin on his chest and looking up at him. 

“I’ve been fucking that up a lot, but I promise you, this time I won’t fuck up. I love you, and I need to get back to showing you that it’s not an empty promise,” Seungcheol spoke, and you reached up to pull him into a soft kiss. 

“I love you, and thank you,” you mumbled against his lips. 

“Shall we, my love? There’s a nice cabin I want to take you to upstate, and it has our names written on it,” Seungcheol said , and you nodded as he helped you into the car. 

The drive up to the cabin was filled with jokes, laughter, and a few kisses here and there. It felt normal. Like you finally got your Seungcheol back, like all the fights could be forgotten because he was back to normal here. However, that hope ended the second you and Seungcheol started fighting over how to cook a dish. 

“Why are you so mean about this? I’m helping you; you don’t even know how to peel a fucking onion!” You snapped at Seungcheol, who was crushing the microwavable rice packet. 

“I might not know how to peel a fucking onion, but at least I’m not a 25-something that has no fucking direction in life!” Seungcheol spat back, making you exhale deeply. 

“Y/N,” Seungcheol started to say, and you glared at him. 

“No, Cheol, what the fuck, what the actual fuck? You’ve been using my insecurity against me twice now, and what-do you think each time you apologise, I’ll come back crawling? Or something? I’m tired of this, and I’m,” you took a deep breath to collect yourself. 

You would not let Seungcheol see you fall apart, not when he was the reason behind the tears. 

“We’re done,” You stated calmly, glaring at Seungcheol, who didn’t dare follow you as you walked away,.You grabbed your overnight bag and called an Uber, heading out of the cabin. 

You weren’t sure if you had properly ended the relationship between the two of you, but you were tired of constantly giving him the benefit of the doubt, and for him to only shatter it the second he felt remotely attacked. 

1 Month Later: The Breaking Point 

“Don’t you fucking dare,” you mumbled to Mia, who had picked you up from the floor of your house last night. You had called her on your way back home, and thankfully she didn’t ask many questions, and just tried to help you. 

Since you left Seungcheol, you didn’t know where you two stood. He made no effort to contact you, so you just assumed that since you yelled. “We are done,” at him, that you were. 

Seungcheol took the hint and left you, but what pained you the most was that he could never run after you. 

You craved his touch, his voice. You wanted him, but his lack of effort made you think he wanted nothing to do with you. Were you just a waste of time for him? 

You thought that what you two had was a masterpiece, or what was that before he tore it all apart? Or was it you? Were you the one who tore it all to pieces? 

All that to say, you had held yourself together, well, or at least you could put on a happy face. You just plastered on a fake smile and went on about your day. You put your efforts into your job out of spite. 

You wanted to prove to Seungcheol that you weren’t some bumbling idiot, but instead, you were a 25-year-old with things going for her. You wanted him to see you wanted him to be proud of you, but he wasn’t here to see it. Maybe he never cared. 

Your breaking point was this afternoon. You had just secured a huge contract, and just as you had signed on the dotted line, you wanted to share it with Seungcheol. You froze mid-text when you realised that he wouldn’t care. He wouldn’t care if you had done something remarkable because you two were done, so why should he care?

So, you started bawling at home and shakily dialed Mia’s number, and that’s when she came to your rescue. She came to find you when you were at your lowest, and you felt guilt engulf you. You had defended Seungcheol to her, insulting her viciously, but she never batted an eyelid. 

“You know most people say thank you,” Mia joked, and you sighed.

“I am thankful, trust me, more than you know. I know you want to say I told you so, so go for it,” you snapped, and Mia shook her head as she helped you sit on the couch. 

“He lost the one real thing he had. That’s not on you. He never fought enough for you,” Mia explained as she pulled you into a gentle hug, which made you blubber and, thus, make you cry more. 

“Nothing, nothing from him, for a fucking month, Mia! Nothing. I thought he loved me and saw a future with me and all that bullshit, but he did not fucking bother, not once, to even be like, are you okay? Nothing, he just, fuck, wait, I think my phone is ringing in the bag. Can you help me grab it?” You asked, and Mia nodded, scrunching her nose at the private number. 

“I swear if it’s that fucker calling through a random ass number to get to you, he’s going to get the living lights smacked out of him,” Mia threatened as she handed your phone to you. 

“Hello?” You answered. 

“Hello, Miss Y/N. We have been given your number as an emergency contact. Do you know Mr. Choi Seungcheol ?”

“I’m sorry. Who are you?” You asked, your voice trembling. What happened to Seungcheol?

“Sorry, I’m Nurse Lee. I’m calling from the Seoul National Hospital. We have been given your number as an emergency, so we are calling to ask if you could come down and sign a few things for us?” You sighed in relief, but only slightly. 

You got into your car, not caring if you got a fine for speeding. You reached the hospital and parked, running in your heels to the main lobby. You frantically explained that you got a call and were quickly ushered upstairs to the wards. 

You heard laughing and opened the door to see your ex-boyfriend laughing with the doctor. His eyes widened as he saw, and just like that, his laughter faded. The doctor noticed your presence, and he waved you in.

“You must be Y/N. Thank you for coming here. We just need to discharge him, and we need you to sign a few forms for him.” You nodded, still confused, “I’ll be back in around thirty minutes. I’ll let you two catch up.”  The doctor left the room and left you both alone. 

“Cheol?” You said softly. 

Seungcheol wasn’t looking at you. You walked to his bedside when you saw there was enough space. You sat down slowly and held his face in your hands. He reluctantly looked at you. 

“What happened?” you asked. You let go of his face so he could talk. 

“It’s not a big deal,” He said. You rolled your eyes. 

“It is, especially if you’re in the hospital.” You countered. 

“Don’t laugh.” He said, warning you. You nodded. “So, long story short, I may have dropped a knife on my foot.” You looked at him, perplexed.

“How?” “I was cooking, and it was going well. Then the knife slid off the counter and onto my foot. I didn’t lose a toe, just a lot of blood. So yeah, by the time I got here, I passed out from blood loss, and I guess that’s why they called you.” He blurted in one go, and you tried to stifle a laugh.

“Seriously?” He said, but you could hear the smile in his voice. His heart warmed at the sight of you smiling. It had been so long since he was the reason for your smile. 

“I’m so sorry, but why were you trying to cook?” You asked. 

Seungcheol ’s laugh faded, and he paused. “I noticed a lot about me that I’m not good at. Cooking is at the top. I felt as if I could attempt to conquer that maybe I can do more in life,” Seungcheol looked down at his hands covered in wires. You touched his thigh, making him look at you. 

“You are good at so much,” you countered, and Seungcheol shook his head.

“Professionally, maybe, but my personality? No. Nothing great there,” Seungcheol said, resignation lacing his tone. You opened your mouth to say something, and Seungcheol spoke first. “I’m not saying this to guilt-trip you into taking me back. After you broke up with me, I started seeing someone,” your hand jerked away from his thigh, which confused Seungcheol until he saw the heartbreak on your face. 

“No, Y/N. I meant seeing a professional,” Seungcheol said, laughing.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, unsure what you were apologising for.  

“If you think I’m even close to being able to move on from you, you’re insane.” 

“Come on, let me drive you home?” You said, Seungcheol nodded. 

“I appreciate it, thank you.” 

While driving, something occurred to you, and you had to ask. “Cheol, um, how come I was your emergency number? Last I remembered, you said it was Jeonghan?” Seungcheol blushed and scratched his neck. 

“Uh, well, it’s embarrassing now, but I changed it three months into us dating,” his confession, making you almost drive through a red light. 

“Why?” 

“Ugh, I sound so stupid because we’re not together, but I guess I wanted you to know I trust you. I know my actions during our relationship were deeply contradictory to that. I also knew that you would be the one for me.” 

“The one? In three months?” You asked. 

Seungcheol smiled fondly at you. “Can you pull over?” 

Seungcheol fished out his wallet, looked for something, and pulled out a small silver ring. 

“Seungcheol, what the fuck?” 

“Trust me; it’s not a proposal. I don’t think I’ll be that lucky. I just thought it was something I should get after three months. I wanted to give this to you, but then I hurt you so many times after, and each time, we tried to make it work, and I kept on fucking it up for us. It was a promise ring that I’d never hurt you again, and I guess I failed.” Seungcheol admitted, and you noticed a tear fall down his face. 

“Why do you still have the promise ring?” You asked. 

“Wishful thinking, I guess?” Seungcheol replied.

“I miss you,” you mumbled, and Seungcheol heard you.

“We can try again,” you offered weakly. 

“No, not yet. Let me learn. Let me be a better man for you. If I can’t, then know you deserve so much more,” Seungcheol spoke, and you smiled softly at him. 

You resumed driving. Upon reaching Seungcheol ’s house, you pulled up and helped him out of the car and into his apartment. You laughed when you saw the floor covered in blood. It was not a normal reaction, but the backstory was quite amusing. 

“Hey, Cheol, why don’t you lie down? I’ll clean this up for you?” You said. 

“No, I can manage,” 

You glared at him. “Trust me,it’s safer that I do this,” You laughed as you watched him hobble to his bedroom. Thank goodness he didn’t live in a multi-story house. 

After cleaning up, you found Seungcheol sitting in his bed, playing music and softly humming. You knocked on his door. Seungcheol smiled and waved you in. 

“Hi.”

“Blood’s gone,” you said, and he patted the space next to you, and you sat down on the bed next to him. 

“Thank you. Somehow, you’re always cleaning after my mess.” 

“Seungcheol, don’t,” your voice firm. 

“I cannot even begin to tell you how sorry I am. Fuck, come here,” he patted the space in front of him. You carefully moved and sat between his legs so as not to hurt his bandaged foot. Seungcheol pulled your hair to the side, kissing softly on the nape of your neck. 

“Just please, don’t break me apart again because I don’t think I’ll recover anymore if you do,” you pleaded, and Seungcheol turned you around in his embrace so that you faced him. 

“Never again, I promise,” Seungcheol promised. bullshit

“Okay, so where is your boyfriend?” Mia asked, venom dripping off every word, and you rolled your eyes at her. 

“He probably got caught up with work. Can you fucking let it go?” You asked, and Mia shrugged. 

“I’m just saying, for a man walking on thin fucking ice, he better at least bother with his girlfriend’s birthday party,” Mia stated before walking out of the room to place balloons in another part of your apartment. 

You sighed, knowing she was right, but Seungcheol was busy. Maybe he’d be late, but he’d show up. You kept telling yourself this until midnight when he never showed up, but you were  several drinks in and had enough liquid courage to storm over to his place, which is precisely what you did. 

You hailed a cab and made the drunken journey to his. 

Your conscience was warning you. You paid no attention. 

Yousure as hell ignored it for long enough. You could continue to do so. 

You knocked on the door, and the door opened to reveal a shirtless Seungcheol in a pair of black sweats. You had lost all sense of rationality, and at this point, you didn’t know what was right or wrong. 

“Y/N?” Seungcheol asked, confused, as would anyone. He couldn’t help but take in your appearance, how your cleavage left little to the imagination, but he knew the reality was better, how your heels made your ass seem even rounder. Your face was beautiful as always, but your mascara had run slightly, and your nose was red.

“Can I come in?” You asked. He nodded quickly, letting you in and closing the door behind him.

Seungcheol slowly guided you to the sofa, and he sat down, waiting for you to sit beside him. Instead, you straddled him, your legs on either side of his hips. 

“My birthday. I got a crappy, “happy birthday” text from you, and you don’t show up to my party. What the fuck is wrong with you? This is not the attitude from someone who wants another chance,” you fumed, and Seungcheol stared at you sighing. He had no excuse, none whatsoever. 

“Y/N, I—” You shut Seungcheol up with a kiss. You rolled your hips against his crotch, and you could feel that underneath his sweats, he was naked. No boxers. You could partially feel his cock against your lace-covered cunt. 

“Y/N, I, what’s going on, fuck,” Seungcheol stopped speaking as you started sucking his neck, gently grazing your teeth against his neck andmaking him whimper for you. You felt his cock harden fully underneath you. You pulled away from his neck for a moment. 

“Cheol, at this moment, I need to forget that I’m mad at you,” you admitted, and Seungcheol sighed before nodding as his grip on your thighs tightened. 

“I’m not saying no; you don’t need to apologise, and you don’t need to leave, but we need to talk when we’re done,” Seungcheol added. 

“I will.” 

“Good.” Cheol stood up from his position and carried you into the bedroom. And he noticed your makeup had smudged and brought you to the bathroom. He placed you on the counter, his lips immediately finding yours. Kissing you, his lips pulled and sucked on yours. You moaned, allowing him to slip his tongue inside your mouth. 

Seungcheol deepened the kiss. His hands found the straps of your dress; he pushed them down. You hissed as your breasts met the cold air of the room. Seungcheol helped you out of the dress, leaving you in your soaked underwear. He groaned at the sight. His hands went to your legs, pushing the heels off your feet, his lips never leaving yours. He moved his hands to your underwear and pulled it off. He groaned when he saw how wet you were. 

He pushed his sweats down and undressed; he stood erect and naked in front of you, and you took a moment to drink in his appearance. Seungcheol guided you into the shower, and you let out a moan, when you felt the warm water hit your skin. Soothing you, you felt Seungcheol turn you around and push your back against the wall. He placed kisses down your neck, his lips finding your breasts. He sucked and nibbled your nipple as his other hand massaged and squeezed and tugged the other breast. Cheol moved his body down yours as his lips found your cunt. 

Seungcheol placed a soft kiss. He gently lifted a leg and wrapped it around his broad shoulders. He pushed two fingers inside of you, groaning at how wet you were, where he could practically taste your arousal. He angled his fingers inside you and started to finger you, and his lips found your core, as he ran his tongue against your folds. 

He pulled your clit between his teeth, gently grazing the swollen bud. You whimpered. He replaced his teeth with his plush lips. Wrapping them around your clit and sucking as his fingers pounded into you. He kept his movements up until you came. You tightened against his fingers, and your clit throbbed in his mouth as he helped you ride out your orgasm. 

Seungcheol gently unhooked your leg from his, and you sank to your knees. You pushed against his toned abs, and his back hit the shower wall. You wrapped your lips around his cock; he was thick. While your hands wrapped around the remainder of his length, you took him and started to suck him. He let out a low growl and a strangled whimper as you continued to suck him. You grazed your nails along his thighs and whimpered, bucking his length into your throat, making you gag slightly. You kept sucking until you felt him still and releasein your mouth. 

You smirked as Seungcheol was panting. He pulled you two on your feet and into a sweet kiss. He cleaned the both of you up, his hands finding your face and washing the smudged mascara off your face. He guided you out of the shower and to his bed. You moaned as you felt the soft sheets against your naked body. 

Seungcheol couldn’t get enough of you. His eyes drank you in. His mouth was desperate to taste you again. He approached you, lifted your legs, and placed them on his shoulder. His mouth found your cunt again. He started by placing soft kisses against your cunt, knowing where to lick you. 

He wasted no time. He dove straight in, his thick tongue flicking against your swollen clit. Your hands made their way into his hair. He pushed in three fingers this time. He lapped at your arousal while you whimpered in oversensitivity. It didn’t take much after that for you to cum on his tongue. 

Seungcheol rubbed his cock against your wet folds several times and then pushed in. You hissed as the stretch was quite intense after two orgasms, but he felt so good. You tugged on his hair, making him look up at you. You brushed your thigh against his hardened length, and he wasted no time. 

“Move”, you whispered, and that’s all it took for Seungcheol to lift your legs and place them on his shoulders, allowing him to hit deeper inside you. His thrusts were rough, and each time, he would withdraw only to push back harder and deeper. 

He leaned down and captured your lips in his. You melted into the kiss while he pounded into your cunt. You were a mumbling and moaning mess underneath him. You felt yourself clench around this length, making him groan into the kiss. He pushed a few more times until you fell apart on his cock. 

He pulled out of you gently and laid down beside you. 

You woke up a few hours later, not realising you had fallen asleep. 

You woke up to at least thirty texts and missed calls from Mia, and you sighed, stepping out of Seungcheol’s bedroom to call her. You quickly told her what happened last night, and Mia could only relay her disappointment. 

“Do you not see how far gone you are, Y/N; you’re making excuses for him. People like him don’t do this just once.” 

“He was busy and couldn’t make it,” you explained, and Mia scoffed. 

“Y/N, I’m telling you as someone who has been through something like this. He will leave you broken.” You scoffed, and your following words were nothing but pure venom. 

“Mia, you had a relatively hot boyfriend, and he dumped your ass. So I guess you’re not too different to me since the only thing you’re good for is looking the way you do. You couldn’t keep him either..” You kept your voice stern and firm. 

Mia groaned. “I won’t ever say I told you so, but when the inevitable happens, you know where to find me. I’ll listen because I know you won’t.” With that, Mia hung up. 

You sank to the floor.  

How did a loving relationship with your boyfriend leave you so drained and lashing out at others to defend him? What went wrong?

“Hey, did I interrupt something?” Seungcheol asked, startling you, and you stood up, shaking your head. You didn’t want to get into it with him right now. 

“Here,” Seungcheol said, handing you a coffee mug, and you nodded, taking it. 

“You’re right. My actions last night weren’t of a boyfriend trying hard to prove that he’s worthy of being with you,” Seungcheol explained, and you rolled your eyes. 

“I’m tired of hearing you apologise. I need you to show me that you’re fucking sorry,” you said . 

“What about a date tomorrow? There’s a gala at my university. Don’t worry, it won’t be like last time, I promise,” Seungcheol begged, and you sighed, nodding. 

You weren’t exactly sure what made you want to give him a second chance, but maybe because you loved him or the idea of him, you weren’t entirely sure which one. You just knew that regardless of what the situation was with you two. With him, it still felt like home somehow. 

DIVDER:

You and Seungcheol walked hand in hand to his gala; this time, he wasn’t distant, curt, or moody. He was jovial, greeted everyone, and introduced you until Yoona entered the picture. 

Seungcheol wasn’t flirting, but he sure as hell didn’t bother to hide how happy and  excited he was to see his ex, considering he spent nearly 45 minutes talking to her. You stormed out of the venue and waited by his car until he noticed.. oblivious to your anger. 

“Waiting long?” Seungcheol asked, and you scoffed.

“I’m amazed you remembered I existed. You seemed to be taken by Yoona. I thought I was a distant memory,” you mocked, earning a glare from Seungcheol. 

“Let’s just go home, yeah?” Seungcheol asked, and you nodded, following him into his car.This time, he didn’t help you in.“When the fuck did I give you a reason to think I’d cheat? How many times do I need to fucking tell you that Yoona and I are done?” Seungcheol bellowed suddenly, and you sighed. 

“That’s not the fucking point!” You yelled back, and Seungcheol sighed, loosening his tie.  

“The point is that you always gloss over our problems, you always act like I’m a child or something, and you never tell me the truth. When I get mad, you act like I’m insane even to be upset. Do you know how that fucking feels?” You yelled, and Seungcheol glared at you.

“Not my fucking problem thatyou don’t understand how the fuck relationships work, or maybe you’re too fucking immature to make one work,” Seungcheol hissed as his grip on the steering wheel only got tighter. 

“This is so fucking rich coming from you considering the fucking fact your ex dumped you, and yet you’re so obsessed with her that you didn’t care that she cheated on you. Instead of spending the night with me, someone who loves you, you cosied up to someone who walked all over you!” You yelled. 

“Y/N, get out of the car before I make you!” Seungcheol yelled, making you whimper at his tone and words. 

“Seungcheol, please, I’m so sorry,” you were begging, but Seungcheol ignored you. He leaned over and opened the car door. You looked at him; his eyes were trained on the road ahead. 

“Seungcheol, please don’t do this,” you begged. You knew you couldn’t change his mind, but you were scared. He didn’t seem to care. You reluctantly exited the car, gently closing the door behind you. Seungcheol wasted no time, and he sped away, drove off, and left you alone in the dark. 

You were freezing, and your outfit did nothing to counter the cold. You let out a sob, your feet in absolute agony from the heels, and your mind an emotional mess. You pulled your phone out of your purse to call someone. You called Seungcheol, no response. You sighed more. Seeing as he would ignore you the entire night, you called the last person you could think of.

“Y/N? What? It’s two in the morning. What do you want?” Mia’s voice was hoarse and laced with sleep. You tried to reply but couldn’t help the whimper that escaped your throat. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Mia asked, her voice now concerned. 

“I don’t know where I am, and it’s dark and cold. I’m so sorry for disturbing you. I shouldn’t have—” 

“Y/N, stop, pin me your location. I’m coming to get you,” You sobbed out a thank you and sent her your location. 

Around twenty minutes later, you saw a car enter the empty street, and it screeched to a halt suddenly. Mia stepped out with a coat and ran towards you. She wrapped the coat around your body. She didn’t ask questions; she just guided you to heris car. 

“Let’s get you home,” Mia said. She was fuming, but she was scared that if she yelled at you now—which she surely would, she’d break you into two. 

“Do you want me to come in?” Mia asked as she pulled up outside your apartment, and you shook your head. 

“I just need time alone, but thank you, Mia,” you said, who nodded as she watched you leave the car before waving to you and driving off. 

“Baby! You’re safe!” You turned around to see Seungcheol running after you, and you sighed as you walked into your apartment. Seungcheol followed you, and this scene was one you knew all too well.

“You threw me out of the car!” You yelled the minute you were inside the apartment. 

“I was scaredI’d say something worse if you stayed. I was trying to mitigate further damage.” 

You rolled your eyes at him.“You’re a fucking moron.”

“I am, but I came back, I—” you interrupted him. 

“For what? To apologise?” You asked, and you hated that hope still coated your words. 

“No, because I can’t do this anymore. I can’t, you’re acting so fucking immature, but we’re not good for each other. I need someone who gets me. I can’t coddle you every five seconds because you got your fucking feelings hurt,” Seungcheol said, finality lacing his words. 

“So, if we were closer in age, we would have worked?” You asked, and Seungcheol sighed, nodding. 

“I’ll send someone for my things, and I’ll mail your things back to you by the end of the week,” Seungcheol mumbled as he walked out of your apartment. 

He left as quickly as he came into your life. You’d experienced heartbreak before, but nothing like this. You wanted to die. You tried to stop feeling because the pain manifested into physical pain as you felt your entire body go numb and limp. You couldn’t handle it, and you felt all too much all at once. 

The Reeling

It had been two weeks since Seungcheol broke up with you and after he returned your things to youin a box with no goodbye letter and nothing to give you any semblance of closure, you impulsively booked a train ticket to see your folks  

If Seungcheol didn’t want to coddle you, you tried to find comfort in the two people you knew would. 

“Y/N?” She was confused by how upset you were. Your mother practically yelled when she saw you at the front door, and you burst into tears the minute she saw you and hugged her. 

“I missed you,” you cried into her arms while she was happy to see you. 

“Come in. Why don’t you go to your room freshen up?” You nodded.

“Hi, stranger.” You said, scaring your father, who was too engrossed in a crossword puzzle.

“Y/N!” He yelled, standing up to hug you. 

“Oh, who’s ass do I need to kick for you crying?” You shook your head. 

“No one, I just missed you guys,” you lied, and your parents nodded knowingly. 

“Freshen up, honey. We’ll be right here with food and a drink?” You nodded at your mother and headed to shower

“Seungcheol,” You answered your phone that was ringing. You had just gotten out of the shower and were drying your hair. 

“Uh, hi. Sorry, I wanted to pick up my hoodie. I left it at yours, but you weren’t there, and I just wanted to check when you’d be back so I could get it?” Seungcheol asked, so casually, so casually cruel. 

At least he was honest. You knew nothing was left there anymore,

“I’m visiting my folks; I’ll send it to yours when I’m back,” you said, keeping your tone neutral and devoid of emotions. 

“Cool. Thanks,” Seungcheol said, hanging up before you could get a word out. 

You broke down again. He called you, only to break you all over again. 

“So, it’s a boy problem? It’s got to be,” your father mused after dinner. You two and your mother were in the living room, sipping wine and catching up. 

“I was a fucking idiot. I gave him a chance after chance,he walked all over me, and I let him because I loved him,” you whined to your parents, who smiled sympathetically at you. 

“I would rather you didn’t call yourself that. I didn’t raise one.” You smiled at your dad’s attempt to be funny. 

“Well, I was,” You sighed, sipping the wine. You decided you’d tell your parents everything aside from the ridiculous amounts of sex that led you up to this moment. 

“Why did you want to try so hard to keep him?” Your mother asked, and you shrugged. 

“Because I loved him, or so I thought I did, but love shouldn’t hurt this much,” you mumbled. “You know what? I was right when I believed that love is this huge thing that doesn’t exist, and aside from you two, I don’t see it anywhere.” You said, and your parents smiled softly, 

“Honey, love isn’t easy. It takes so much effort and time to get it right, and even then, you can screw it up.” 

“Then what, I screwed up?” You accused, and your mother shook her head. 

“No, you tried and broke yourself into two to become someone he wanted. That is the furthest thing from love. It’ll hurt, but one day, when your paths cross again, you’ll be able to smile at him with no malice and thank him for putting you through hell because you’ll know what you never want again,” your mother explained, pulling you into a tight hug as you sobbed. 

“He couldn’t even be bothered to attend my birthday,” you mumbled, sniffling pathetically, and your father nodded. 

“That’s not a good sign, if I’m being honest, isn’t it meant to be fun, a birthday party?” Your father asked, and you could only shrug. 

“Get your hair done or something,” your mum suggested the following week. 

“Why?” You asked, and your mother smiled at you. 

“Well, isn’t that what everyone does after a breakup? Get their hair done, and you’ve been moping for a week. Go outside, go and see the colourful world out there,” your mother said, kissing your forehead. 

You laughed but decided to take up your mother’s advice, and soon enough, you found yourself in a hair salon. 

“So, how do you want your hair done?” The stylist asked as he started to towel dry your hair. 

“I’m not entirely sure, but something that screams I’m doing good and happy.” The stylist smiled.

“A few highlights and waves?” He suggested, and you grinned. You relaxed into the chair as the stylist worked on your hair. 

You smiled at your appearance in the mirror. You felt fresh. You still felt pain, but the new hair did do wonders. You’d never understand the logic, but it helped, only for a second, until a voice stopped you in the shopping mall. 

“Y/N?” Your blood ran cold, and you’d recognise that voice anywhere. 

“Yoona,” you muttered, turning around as you faced her. 

“Did you change your hair? I like it. It looks lovely!” Yoona smiled. 

“Can I help you, Yoona?” You asked, not having the energy to pretend to care. 

“I heard you and Cheol broke up?” Yoona said, and you cringed at her use of his nickname. 

“Why, are you waiting to dig your claws into him?” You snapped, and Yoona shook her head. 

“Look, I have no defense for what I did to him, but I’ll say this: There is an idea that Seungcheol has in his mind. Even if I didn’t fit that mould, should I have cheated? No, but it wouldn’t have mattered because I would never be enough for him, and neither were you. He has a version of a woman in his mind, which doesn’t exist. You dodged a bullet, my Y/N,” Yoona narrated as she walked off, leaving you speechless. 

It was on your walk that all the puzzle pieces fit together. Yoona wasn’t wrong—granted, an unreliable source—but her words weren’t exactly wrong. You bent over backward to appease Seungcheol, but nothing was enough, and if Yoona, his “ideal girl,” failed to meet his idea, then what was his ideal? 

A never-needy, ever-lovely jewel whose shine reflected on him? Was that all he ever needed: someone to make him look better? 

You smiled, turning back to see Yoona walk into another shop. Maybe she was right; it’d take a while to reconcile and face the trauma of dating Choi Seungcheol, but you knew it wasn’t you anymore. You could have been carved by the gods themselves, but unless that god were Seungcheol, you would never be enough for him, and somehow you were okay with that. 

You just needed now to heal, mend old relationships, and find yourself again, but you were a soldier who came back from war half her weight. You needed to regain strength from this, heal, and become someone who had learned from this. 

You could do it. You’d get older and wiser, while his lovers would be the same, wide-eyed and keen until he tore them to shreds when he realised they weren’t the one. 

You could move on. You’d be fine. 

The Healing: 2 Years Later 

You were fussing over your speech for the fifth time that day. 

“Girl, it’s fine, you’ve worked your ass off for this app. I can’t believe you got SNU to sponsor this. You’ve grown up!” Mia said dramatically, making you laugh. 

You two were okay again; it took a lot of healing, but you two were okay because you didn’t hurt anymore. 

You were at the launch of your newest app, a website for students and teachers to connect quickly.You wanted to pitch it to SNU, and they agreed. 

You had finally finished your presentation when your eyes locked with his. 

You flashed him a smile, and he returned one.It was like nothing you imagined at that moment. Nothing hurt anymore; he was a painful memory, but he was your past. 

You would sometimes wonder if the love affair between the two of you maimed him the way it maimed you, but you also figured that you could live without getting that answer from him. 

You’d be okay. You weren’t okay then, but you are okay now. 

You were okay before you met him, and you’d be okay after him. 

[plounce]

made this chart because i think the role/class assignments are such fun pieces of characterization for story NPCs! information pulled from here.

footnotes under the cut:

many NPCs have fancy titles instead of job names - for example, ysayle is referred to as "oracle of ice", and pre-edw alphinaud is an "academician". the jobs i marked them as are pulled from the icons of their classes + the movesets they use.

i didn't include the nameless fill-in NPCs like "temple chirurgeon" or "scion lancer". i am aware that the ARR duty support npcs have dialogue and mini-arcs, but that isn't relevant to my interest in making this chart. and sorry to j'moldva and any fans she has, but she also does not meet the threshold of character significance to be included in the chart.

thancred, urianger, and alphinaud can only dps in specific duty support instances: thancred in the antitower (if he tanks, this is the only time he can GLD - without a shield equipped! uh oh), alphinaud during hvw & stb, and urianger in the mothercrystal (if the player heals, alphinaud is your other healer). y'shtola will only heal in the burn and edw patch dungeons (funny, since her introductory epithet is "cultured conjurer"). all of these can only be used in duty support and not in trust, so they are on the cusps of their overlaps, not properly in them, as i feel this more accurately reflects their actual roles.

alphinaud functions as a scholar with his special massive carby. urianger also pulls out an even bigger carby to somehow be a summoner ("lithomancer") who can use bahamut and phoenix, but not the other three egis! due to his involvement in the bahamut coils raids?

there are no pure healers, outside of the fill-in NPCs!

DPS is a girl job, tanking is a boy job, and healer is equality. ysayle and venat are the only women who can tank, and both use a sword & shield, which makes me want to eat drywall, also i'm also kissing them both on the mouth.

apparently samurais can tank (🔄Third Eye🔄) and apparently gladiators are DPS.

g'raha is notable outside of being an all-rounder in that all of his jobs are, well, jobs. the majority of characters use class icons, while he gets to be full-fledged versions of all of these things. something something soul crystals / the crystal tower / the exarch / etc etc. frankly i'm a little fuzzy on soul crystal lore. i just think this is an interesting distinction.

if you're interested in this kind of stuff, @trustinsighters is a great resource for character dialogue, actions, and many more interesting details in the characters' programming in duty support and trust dungeons! they have great infographics and videos, including localization differences. one of my favorite accounts. their twitter has charts for every trust dungeon from shb onwards, and high-res versions are available on their kofi!

now look at my wol's adorable starlight RDM fit. isn't she so cute. she's my angel. i think about her lore and i weep. her heart is so Good. tomte peregrin on maduin ♥

that is all.

[puppycheesecake]

I hit a follower milestone recently, and to celebrate I wanted to make something fun, so I made a dating game. ♥(ˆ⌣ˆԅ)

-> Take the quiz here!

At the end you'll be able to download the Sim you match with~ 💖

As always let me know if you run into any problems, and tag me if you use any of them; I'd love to see it!

Transcript under the cut:

From Starlight Boulevard in Del Sol Valley, it's... The Dating Game! Here's the star of the show and your host, Elle C. Dee! Thank you! Ah, you're beautiful! Thank you, and welcome once again to The Dating Game! We've got five eligible bachelorettes looking for love tonight. But which one will be right for you? Well, you’re about to find out! We asked these lovely ladies a series of questions, and it's up to you to pick your favorite answers. At the end of the game, you'll be matched up with the bachelorette most compatible with you. What are we waiting for? Let’s start the game!

[eruden-writes]

Choosing the Bear - Part 1 (Shifter x Human)

Inspired by the Man or Bear in the Woods question/meme.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 (coming soon?)

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

If you found yourself at night in a forest – somewhere that made bumfuck nowhere look like New York City – would you choose to be alone with a man or a bear?

Bambi Rose Barker was stuck in the middle of both answers. Literally.

She stood stock still, eyes wide, chest heaving and aching for air while her stomach lurched. Moments earlier – or maybe half an hour ago, she couldn’t tell – she had managed to escape her kidnapper’s cabin with the man hot at her heels. It had been a mad dash through the night, dressed in only a tank top and a pair of daisy duke shorts and choking down pain as her bare feet slammed over rocks, branches, and uneven terrain.

Luckily, a full moon cast light over the world, so Bambi wasn’t exactly stumbling without sight. Fumbling through the forest without shoes was still a bitch on the soles, but she simply gritted her teeth and continued forth.

When she caught sight of the bear a few yards ahead, her racing feet and thoughts froze. She couldn’t really be seeing a bear, right? Under the moonlight and swirling starlight, she squinted. But it was hard to deny that the bright white creature was anything but a bear.

Her adrenaline shifted from fleeing her pursuer as she slowed to calculating whether ursine or man was a larger threat.

Behind her, the man howled as he tromped through the mountainside forest, “Bambi, get back here! I just wanna talk things out!”

It wasn’t the first time she’d had a man chasing her with a shotgun. Growing up in the country, with little to do except get in trouble, Bambi and a group of friends often found themselves running off into the dark, being threatened by an angry elder with a shot gun.

The man tailing at her heels wasn’t crochety Mrs. Jenkins, who was more bark than actual bullet.

No, she was well-acquainted with Duke Walker. They’d grown up in the same town and known each other forever.

There was one key difference between Duke and the other men of Hartwell: his family owned the little town. By and large, he was better off than most people in Barfield and he got away with a whole helluva lot more than the average folk.

Which included stalking, as Bambi had learned over the last two years of their separation. He was about to add kidnapping and possibly murder to the list, as well.

But Duke was a human. A five-foot-eleven-inch human that might have a chance to be reasoned with.

Whereas the bear…

Well to start with, it looked about as tall as the Wicked Warrior from the Monster Truck Derby her pa used to take her to when she was a kid. Which had to be at least ten feet tall, though maybe kid Bambi was coloring her memories. It didn’t help that the bear looked to weigh just about as much as the Wicked Warrior to boot.

To end with, judging from the size and coloration, it looked like a polar bear. As in one of the few creatures that actually saw humans as a viable snack.

While Bambi hadn’t been an ace at high school geography, she was pretty damn sure the Appalachian Mountains were too far south for a polar bear.

Confusion warred with uncertainty, keeping her frozen in place as the bear lowered onto all four paws. A faint part of Bambi’s mind realized it had been rooting around in a tree and, a little hysterically, she wondered if polar bears ate honey.

Just as the bear lumbered closer to Bambi, Duke crashed through the brush behind her. The flaps of his flannel button-up, unbuttoned, flared behind him as his white tank top nearly glowed in the moonlight. “Christ, woman! I told you I just wanted ta’ talk and you gotta go and make a scene—“

Jolting, Bambi spun toward Duke. It would’ve been a lie if she didn’t take some satisfaction in watching awareness dawn on his as he finally saw the bear. He paled to a shade almost as white as the creature, gripping his gun tighter. She watched the knot in his throat bob, fear freezing him momentarily in place.

For some reason, seeing Duke like that sparked something inside Bambi. Balling her fists, she nodded toward the gun in his hands. “If you just wanna talk, Duke, why do you got a gun with you?”

Her words made Duke snap his attention back to her, eyes wide with horror and anger. “Now’s not the time for all that! Do you not see the hulking white beast behind you!?”

“I do, but it ain’t threatening me with a damn gun and it hasn’t been the one stalkin’ me for years and kidnapping me,” she spat back, though she very pointedly shifted so her back wasn’t to the bear or the man.

A chuff from the bear startled her attention back to it, her heart tripping in her chest. She glanced toward it, risking eye contact that could very well end her life. The bear’s head slightly tilted toward her, ears giving a twitch, but it didn’t growl or lift a lip in a snarl. Even without the signs of imminent danger, Bambi’s heart thrummed in her chest.

Albino, she thought. The white bear couldn’t be a polar bear, it had to be albino! But didn’t albino animals have red eyes? And no pigmentation in the rest of their body? She swallowed as her eyes dropped from the creature’s dark eyes to its black nose.

The cock of Duke’s rifle snagged Bambi’s attention back toward him. Finally, a growl burbled up from the bear and she heard it shift, could feel it rising up on its hind feet. Apprehension prickled over her body, finding Duke lining up a shot through the scope, lip curling as he snarled, “You need to back away from that damn thing! Don’t you got any sense?!”

A sudden surge of protectiveness overcame Bambi as she took a step closer to the armed man. “Duke Walker, put down the damned rifle! It wasn’t doing a thing before you started threatening it.”

“Don’t you Duke Walker me! It’s a—“

Before Duke could finish his retort, the huge bear crested the distance faster than Bambi would have guessed. Stunned, she couldn’t even shriek as the bear descended on Duke, huge paw arcing down to swipe at the rifle. She only heard the man give a startled cry before a loud, piercing gunshot rang out. With a clatter, the rifle went flying and Duke stumbled back, bloody gouge marks trickling down his arm and chest. Another growl warbled from the bear as it stood up straighter.

As Duke turned tail and sprinted back the way he came, the bear didn’t pursue. It merely stood, as if watching the man disappear into the woods.

And suddenly, Bambi realized she was alone with the hulking beast. As quick and quiet as she could, she began sidling away from the creature, mentally trying to determine which direction she should run to avoid Duke. However, the bear shifted toward her and she realized, with a start, that red blossomed along its fur.

Duke had shot it.

With a  groan, the bear lowered down to all four, its torso seemingly heaving.

Sense and compassion held Bambi locked in place, part of her wanting to check on the creature while the logical side of her told her to bolt. Besides the fact it could be a polar bear – there’s no fucking way it’s actually a polar bear, Bambi’s logical side snarked – it was injured, meaning it had both a hankering for human and was likely scared while in pain.

Before Bambi could decide what to do, a smaller figure crashed through the tangle of forest. “Dad! Dad! What’s goin’ on? Did you hear that gunshot?”

The little figure paused, eyes widening and voice softening with worry, “What happened to you?”

With a jolt, Bambi realized she recognized the voice. Squinting, she took a step closer. “Mercy? Mercy Clements?”

Startled, the girl turned toward Bambi as she hovered near the bear. The light of the moon caught her wide hazel eyes, casting them with a silver sheen. Like a fish, her mouth opened and closed, obviously trying to come up with something to say.

Wait, she’d said ‘dad’ thought Bambi. And then she had ran toward the bear, asking the creature what happened. Bambi’s gaze flicked from the bear to the girl and back to the bear, a perplexing suspicion taking root. There was no way to confuse a behemoth like that for a human, even in the dark.

“Zeke?” Bambi narrowed her eyes, focusing on the bear. There was no way the bear was Zeke Clements. There was no way the bear was anything other than a bear!

Something in the bear’s demeanor flinched – or so Bambi thought – and her denial wavered.

[naffeclipse]

Pearl Eye

A Sleuth Jesters MerMay Fic

Movement. A mer swims overhead, speaking to someone, blocking out the starlight. The interloper lays a hand on the rim of the entrance but doesn’t look down just yet, and doesn’t see you, red-handed. Your gut clenches with the urge to flee, your strength already spent in the fight moments earlier, and you heed the warning.

Word Count: 10,800~ Warnings: Blood and injury, violence, weapons, bruises, angst, threats of violence, death, possessive behavior, obsessive behavior, killing, and suggestive themes.

A/N: *shows up late to MerMay with Starbucks and sunglasses* I made it! I'm so excited to share this one shot with you! It's more of the usual for the Sleuth Jesters crew, just shoved into the ocean and fish-ified. The world-building has been tweaked to fit this setting as it's less formal and less organized, but Sun and Moon are still the equivalents of detectives, Eclipse as a mafia boss, and Y/N is doing the usual vigilante shtick.

Eclipse's octo design is based on @xitsensunmoon's art which you should absolutely check out right here! I cooked up some mer designs for Sun and Moon, but they're a lot less tentacle-y (kind of).

There's a lot I ended up not going into for this universe, but if you have questions or want to know more, you can always shoot me a question here!

Merry MerMay! Enjoy ♥

[arcielee]

She Walks in Starlight

Summary: A goddess comes to ask for help to save her friends. Paring: Aemond!Hades x OFC!Persephone Word Count: 4358 Warnings: Mention of character(s) death. It’s HotD and Greek mythology, so there will be incest.   Author's Note: So, the whole Aemond as Hades trope has been done before BUT NOT BY ME so lets go. My inspiration came from this Aemond drawing: artist. It’s so nifty. Also, huge shout out to @aspen-carter for her ceaseless patience and helping me edit this. I am so grateful to have her as a friend because her writing is just top tier and her insight is so wonderful. ♥ Also! Gō vys is Valyrian for Under world. Enjoy! Tags (Tumblr kindred spirits): @sirenofavalon​ @annikin-im-panicin​ @aaaaaamond (slash means I am unable to tag you)  Series:  Act I -  Act II - Act III

ACT I

“Little goddess, you are far away from where you belong.”

This was the truth spoken, for she never before dared venture away from her mother’s watchful gaze, never pressing beyond the boundary she swore she implemented for safety. Today it was fate that propelled her soft steps to follow the trodden pathway that wove from her realm into his. 

His tone was low and voiced with authority, but she did not feel threatened despite the grim scenery she now found herself in. The Underworld seemed just a shadowed, desolate reflection of the mortal realm above; it was not shroud in darkness, mostly void of pigmentation save the veily blue hue that enveloped all around. She watched the souls make their way towards the ferryman, unaware their fluid steps were not solid against the grey sand that spread the shore of the river Styx. 

“Aïdōneús,” she used the ancient moniker, for who else would be present other than the lordship to the realm of death? She spoke his name as she heard from the hushed whispers of the mortals, who were afraid to misstate and bring unwanted attention from the king of the dead. For her, it was an ancient tongue known to the gods and it spilled like a sweet nectar from her wet lips. She pressed on the ball of her foot to turn and face him. 

Throughout the ages, many adjectives have been used to describe him and beautiful was the first to her mind. 

The contours of his face were sharp as the marble stones that the mortals would carve the gods’ likeness into and it gave a severity to his expression. She saw the left side of his face, marred from his heroism from the tales of the Titanomachy, with a gash that began above his brow and cut through, curling into his cheek. His bravery had been rewarded with his kingship of the Gō vys and a brilliant sapphire stone that was set into his scarred socket. 

Cold and stern, was often used, a firm accountability held for the laws held. Monstrous. Menacing. She assumed these descriptors were spoken by cowards, for all she could see was an esthetical deity.

He towered over her, his arms were tucked behind his back and it emphasized his broad shoulders. Silver scars littered over, brilliant streaks in contrast to the plum chiton draped over his lithe figure with golden thread knotted around his slender waist. The dark tones he wore gave a luminous intensity to his alabaster skin, like a godly beacon in the realm of grey. 

He kept his distance, but she saw his head tilt from the gleam of the red ruby set in his crown and the soft glimmer of his silver tresses that spilled forward with his subtle movement. 

“I have come to ask you something,” she continued, her voice unsteady, but her eyes boldly returned his steady gaze.

There was a haunting beauty to the mismatched coloring of his stare, his lavender eye and the glint of his sapphire eye, that caused her heart to reverberate within her chest.

“You traveled all this way to ask me a question?” His baritone continued and there was a flicker of amusement, the slight curl to his lips with his mellifluous words. “Please ask so I may best assist the goddess of spring.”

She felt the flush of pleasure. He knows who you are, the thought flutters throughout her head and she cannot stop her smile. “I wanted to ask if it was at all possible for a soul to be returned to the mortal realm?” 

A low hum rumbled in the back of his throat and he took a deliberate step to close the space between them; the flicker of amusement is gone, his expression now as cool as the marble it was carved from. “This cannot be done, little goddess,” his silver words carefully chosen for his silver tongue. “It is the fate of every mortal to die and once that threshold is crossed, they cannot return to that life.” 

Her renewed grief comes with its sickening hold, clenching her heart and the threat of tears pricked her eyes. She swallowed thickly, only then breaking her bold stare and instead she looked over the spirits that continued forward, awaiting their turn to cross. 

It should have been me.

“Who did you lose?”

His soft tone pulled her attention back and she can see his brow is furrowed. “My friends,” she refused to cry in front of the king, no matter the kindly concern etched onto his features in the moment. “They were taken suddenly and do not have the gold to pay the passage.” 

He hummed a second time, still low but thoughtful. “They are not yet lost, little goddess,” and the familiar curl of his bow lips gives her the flutter of hope. “Come back tomorrow and we can see what may be done, but,” his gaze rolled over her, locking onto her face once again. “I would advise not to return empty handed when you come to beg a favor from the king of the Underworld.” 

+ + + + + + +

He dared teased the goddess of spring and then he relished in her response to the reminder of such a timeless courtesy. The rose coloring flushed her ivory tones, her embarrassment clashed with the thrum of her vitality beneath and it brought out the sun speckles across her nose and cheeks. 

How divine the thought of his lips to kiss each one. 

She left chagrined and he was certain he would not see her again, save the movements when he would slip to the surface for a reprieve from the dead, a shadow in watch of the gods who resided in the mortal realm. He had not expected her to return the following day and with a basket she showed was filled with delicacies of cheeses, olives, figs, and more.

He saw her coming, her steps almost familiar with the pathway that led to his realm. “You returned, little goddess,”  it was a statement more so than a question. 

“I have, Aïdōneús.” 

Aïdōneús. A name long forgotten, spurned from the fear it held amongst mortals, but she was dauntless with her pronunciation, just as she was bold with her stare. It was the sweetest sound, both familiar and unfamiliar, a sound that he would spend his immortality to follow its every behest.  

Even though her tone was cool, he noted her white knuckled hold on the wicker basket. “I have returned and I have brought you an offering,” she continued, shifting her weight to rest it on her hip. “You also may call me by name or you may call me Kore, if you desire.”

Desire. There is an unbridled fervor in his gaze as it rolled over her curves, so sinfully wrapped in the peplos linen but his posture remained reserved, his arms crossed behind and one foot stanced.  

“As you wish, Kore.” 

He did not say another word and his hand reached for hers; he was pleased that she took it without hesitation and his skin prickled from the warmth of her palm. He whisked her forward and he felt her grip tighten, looking back to see her eyes wide from the abrupt movement. He pulled her closer to his chest, his other arm wrapping around her waist with a firm hold. 

He brought her to a pomegranate tree that is curled on a ledge overlooking the knolls of silver grass, decorated with aimless spirits. 

There was almost an ache when he released his hold and he kept his arms open, watching to make sure her steps are balanced on the solid earth. “I apologize,” his voice was almost sheepish with his realization. “I am so used to getting around and I forget…” 

He is grateful that she does not press him to finish his thought. Instead, he fell back and watched as she spread the cloth, the white billow of fabric that settled on the ground, and placed the basket in the center. She offered to pour him a glass of wine and only then does he take a seat, breaking the bread, while he shared that their view is the asphodel meadows where good souls reside, a neutral ground for peaceful spirits. 

He wanted to bring her here and show her. “This is where your friends will eventually be,” he finished, lifting his goblet to his lips. 

Her eyes watched the bob of his neck as he drank the wine and she admitted, “This seems so dreadfully dull for the good souls.” 

“They no longer have the tedious shackles forced on them from the mortal realm,” his lips curled upwards with his further explanation. “They feel nothing and this allows them contentment to wander these fields.” 

Her nose scrunched. “I understand this,” she breaks a piece of the bread, allowing the wine to dye it red. “That, however, does not change my initial opinion.” 

This is a moment that broke through the kingly demeanor that he carried with his every step, his every movement within the cosmos. She watched, wide eyed and rosy, as his laughter lines his cheeks with dimples, the king of the Gō vys has dimples! She savored the genuineness of this moment and she cannot help but giggle as well. “It is beautiful, though,” she continued with a shy smile. “I see why you chose this spot.” 

His demeanor darkened and he smirked. “Kore, this pales in comparison to your springly creations. I only brought you to show you the bit of vegetation that can survive within my realm.” 

She tilted her head upwards, looking at the deep burgundy of the ripe pomegranates that hung low on the branches. “Are they edible?” 

He leaned onto his side, propped up onto one elbow and his fingers traced the decoration of the gilded goblet. “It is, but without the same savory flavors as,” and he gestured towards the basket that slowly empties with their picnic. “There is a cost of their consumption,” he cannot help the edge of bitterness to his voice. 

Her eyes widen, not with fright but curiosity, to the animosity of his words. “What is the cost?”

“Anything eaten or drank chains you to the realm,” he answered, solemn, and was surprised by the glint in her eyes. 

It draws his gaze to her and, again, he can see the thrum of her ichor beneath her ivory skin, her eyes focused on him and framed with dark lashes, her stare as dauntless as earlier. 

“It is the cost to rule a kingdom,” she offered, blinking and it is seemingly gone, her expression now doleful as it looks over the silver hills that spread infinitely before them. “It is better than to be destined to be the forgotten goddess, tied to her mother’s shadow and just a decoration who nurtures flowers.”  

He was watchful in this somber moment; there was a silence that was not uncomfortable, but he felt the returned fervor from before to ask more, to understand more. There was a tingle in his fingertips to reach for her hand, to knit his fingers so perfectly with her own, just so she may remember she was not alone. 

Instead, he waited.

She pulled herself to stand and reached her hand towards him, the radiance of her smile returning, a divine glow amongst the eerie meadow. “Come and show me more of your kingdom.”

And he obliged her. 

+ + + + + + +

Time, she learned, was different in the Underworld. 

She allowed herself to tour the Gō vys, tucked so close to his side and allowing him to show his kingdom, from the Asphodel to the Erebus, to watch the passage of Acheron and learn the ferryman was men, twins who let a foolish misunderstanding result in the simultaneous slay and he offered them an alternative to serve him. She met Vhagar, the rumored three headed beast who in truth wished for belly rubs and she happily inclined. 

There was a panicked realization when she resurfaced and saw the moon bore overhead. Her steps were quick homewards, muttering prayers to Gaia, to Rhaenys, to whomever was listening and she begged her mother would be unaware of the time lost. 

“You smell of death.”

Rhaenyra was the golden goddess of harvest and fertility, her mother the very embodiment of the sacred laws of the cosmos. Her eyes narrowed on her arrival, but she managed only a hint of anger to touch her overwhelming interrogative tone. “Where have you been, Kore?”

She hummed a lie, something enough to dissuade further suspicion her mother may hold, just a silly little goddess who had gotten lost within the cosmos. She continued to add another promise she would never dare return. 

This was another lie. 

“Aïdōneús,” she greeted him the next day and was pleased with his expression, which was almost incredulous at her return. 

“Kore,” he responded with the same warmth, the curl of his lip when he reached for her hand. She allowed him to take it without thought, a blush crept over as he brought her knuckles to his lips, the tickle of his breath to her skin. “Please, I meant to say this yesterday,” he did not release his hold, his dichromatic gaze watchful. “You may call me just Aemond, if you wish.” 

“Aemond,” and she said his name with the same sweetness and reverence, enjoying her familiarity with the king and how the rose color dusts his cheeks when she repeats it. “I admit, I have come to ask another favor.” 

“More souls you wish to return to the mortal realm?” 

He regretted his words the moment they left his lips, when he saw the pain that danced across her eyes. His apology was caught in his throat, the explanation for his tasteless jest, but she already shook her head and that pain was gone. 

“I wish to show you a place that is dear to me,” but her tone is careful. “Are you able to come with me to the mortal realm?” 

I would go anywhere you asked of me, he does not say and instead he nodded, the shimmer of his silver hair. “I can leave, though not for long periods of time,” he shifted his gaze. “It is a tether to the Underworld. There is a pull, almost an ache, that grows the longer I am away.”  

A smile returned to her lips, pink and inviting. “I will not keep you too long from the duties of your kingdom,” she promised and offered her hand to him. 

Traveling within the Gō vys requires a celerity to his movements; there is a rush of wind with his quick motion from one place to the next, whereas she seems to frolick, pulling to keep him at her pace as they flit from the shadows and move towards a small isle. At first glance, it only holds the wreckage of the temple to appease the averter of evil, its ruin ironically from a temper tantrum of the gods. 

“But why here?” Aemond was curious as he looked over the cracked stylobate and the broken pillars split, with stone embedded into the soft earth around them. 

“There is beauty in the broken,” she smiled and pulled him to follow. “After Daemon and his temper tantrum, the mortals abandoned it, but I wished for it to blossom with new life.” 

He watched her climb over a fallen pillar and she peered up to him, beckoning him to follow. He dropped softly at her side, while the soft echo of her words, there is beauty in the broken, remained in his ear. Aemond saw her focus was ahead and he followed her gaze. 

His eye followed the curl of a turquoise moss that curled and decorated the stones, blooming with pastels. It continued to the reflection of the morning dew glittering off the almost iridescent petals, gleaming brilliant in the rising run; it showed the sea scheme of colors that stretched around them.

She was the goddess of spring, of vitality personified, and he is the darkness. But in this serene moment, there was an emotion, an almost tangible passion that entangled with the ichor of his veins when she reached for his hand again.

There was a spark as their palms fit together, as his slender fingers curled around her hand. “It is beautiful,” he said and his tongue wet his lips. 

She peered at him, the flutter of her own heart when she saw how his features softened in the intimacy of the moment, a satisfaction to be privy to the reserved pleasure that played on his face. There was the intrusive thought that begged her to touch his jaw, to press up to her tiptoes and dare to taste his mouth, and she wished to bring back a piece to his kingdom, just so she could relive the hint of his smile on his lips. 

“It is,” she agreed, tucking the thought away. 

+ + + + + + +

That night, she tucked herself into the athenaeum to pour over the scrolls her mother stored away, with Rhaenyra both pleased and proud of her rekindled passion for her role within the cosmos. 

Kore did not correct her. She needed her focus to return to what initially brought her to the Underworld, the fate she shelved and the growing burden with that neglect. She told herself that Aemond would be more amenable with an offering more tailored for the god of death, but in truth, she also wished to understand the growing thrum beneath her breastbone whenever she was within his proximity. 

There was a simple spell that would serve both. 

Though he would never admit to waiting for her, she was still pleased to see him on the edge of the plane, close enough for the sunlight to touch and give an ethereal glow to his chiseled features. There was a gentle breeze through his silver, silk tresses and she stopped her steps so she could admire him, the glimmer. 

He tilted his head. “Kore, what is it?”  

“Aemond,” she breathed. “You really are beautiful.” 

His jaw steeled with the compliment and she was quick to grab his hand, leading him below like a silver beacon into the blue hue of the Gō vys. Once they were in the shadowed realm, she turned to press against his chest, her softness melting against him and with her whisper, “Aemond, take me back to the meadows.” 

He, of course, obliged her. 

There was a comfort with how his arms, so strong and lined with silver scars, wrapped around her waist with a hold she knew could be trusted. The jarring movement still caused her stomach to lurch, but it was quickly replaced with the exhilarating rush and her laughter spilled from her lips. Only when she felt the tickle of the silver grass beneath her soles did he finally release his hold of her and they were back beneath the pomegranate tree. 

She curled with grace onto its roots and beckoned him to follow. He paused for a moment to appreciate how her robes nestled against her curves before he sits, close enough, with one leg up to rest his forearm on and the other arm pressing himself upright, his palm resting on the earth. His expression begs curiosity, but he is quiet. 

Kore and her sweet smile elicited his hummed response and he watched as she began to rub her palms together. A soft glow emitted between and her focus returned to Aemond, a golden goddess with the light, before she pressed her hands to the ground. Her eyes closed for a moment, her thoughts poured into the practice incantation with the wordless flutter of her lips. 

She opened her eyes and smiled again, his gaze shyly dropped to watch her hands lift and reveal the bolt of green that begins to stem upwards. He watched as its leaves unfurled and the red bulbs bunched together began to blossom.

His expression is one of awe, his jaw slack from seeing the life sprout from the grey earth and flourish with color before him. Aemond looked pained when she reached to pluck one, cupping it in her palms with a whisper, the same golden glow, before she presented him the enchanted flower, the petals unbruised and a vibrant red. 

“This will match the ruby in your crown,” she explained, shifting her weight to look at him. 

His expression was stoic, just a red reflection in his sapphire eye. “What are they called?” He asked when she opened his palm, his fingers spread as if his touch would shatter it. 

“These are called snapdragons,” she shared, her pride aglow with her creation, her validation. “They are able to handle the cooler weather, but their lifespans are not very long, which is why,” and her fingertips tickled his palm as she picked it up, careful to pin it to his chiton, “I made this one for you. This one will never wilt.” 

His gaze fell to it, his slender fingers pressed into the fabric around where she snugly fastened it, still cautious to touch. “Is this magic?”

He did not see the touch of pink to her cheeks, how she hemmed for her words to reply to him. 

She sought out this spell in the archives of her mother’s anethum, that would allow a flower to eternally hold its blossomed vibrance with a condition in place, an emotion from the spellcaster, something that hinted its existence from the day they spent together at the temple.

An emotion she felt irresolute to share now. 

She had thought it to be carnal at first. Desire, the unbridled passion that hummed within her when she first laid eyes on the god of death and his aery beauty. It was a fervor that burned within her as she drank his deliberate movements, the glimmer of his silver hair, the perpetual smirk that played on his pink, bow lips. 

This will fade, she told herself. She returned, undeterred and with purpose to save her companions, the fate that brought her to the Gō vys to begin. With her offering rested on her hip, she allowed herself to be swept away in his arms, flitting further into his kingdom. It was his touch that sparked something more, the sweet candor of their conversation, how she swore his steady gaze able to see her bones beneath. 

She felt confirmation at the temple ruins, from the moment she watched the colors of her masterpiece absorb into the exquisiteness he carried with him. She saw something, she felt something. 

There is beauty in the broken.

He was a timeless deity that had seen the fall of Titans and she was only the little goddess of spring. 

In part, she was proud of her power that grew, the vibrant glow of the snapdragon, but she also knew it stemmed from an emotion from her that he would never reciprocate. 

So all she said was, “Yes. Magic.” 

Her cheeks grew warmer still with his steady gaze, her silent prayers that he would not press for the truth of it because she knows she would never be able to lie to him. Aemond seemed to accept the words and then said, “I accept your offering, Kore. Tell me your favor and I swear I will do the best that I am able.” 

So she spoke of the fate that brought her to the Underworld. “I wish to pay the passage for two souls.” 

Her question did not anger him, but there is a sadness that crept to his features. “Kore, I would not be able to allow this,” he sighed, unable to look her in the eyes. “If I am to make an exception for you, I would have to offer the same courtesy to the rest and…” there is a pregnant pause, a moment that allowed her to choke on the emotion that threatened to break through and she saw the glimmer of silver when he tilted his head to watch her. 

“Persephone,” he said with his low baritone. “Why do you ask for this? What brought you to my realm?” 

She wore her shame like the chiton draped over her curves. Her tongue wet her lips as her mind tried for the words to express the suffocating guilt that built with her every visit. Begin at the beginning. On that day, there had been an enchanted flower that she and her companions, Baela and Rhaena, came upon. 

“A flower,” Aemond hummed, his expression unreadable. 

His comment left her feeling childish, ashamed to admit what followed. The flower seemed otherworldly, its petals glittered in the sunlight and beckoned to her, but she balked and stayed within the parameters Rhaenyra had placed. Baela and Rhaena teased at her sudden shyness, pushing beyond and dared to pluck it. 

In return, the earth rumbled to split open and swallowed them both. 

“I know that it was planted for me,” she finished, her fingers fidget with the rope tied around her waist. “What other purpose would an enchanted flower serve than to lure the goddess of spring?” Her cheeks were tearstained. “It should have been me.”

Aemond hummed again, the severity returned to his gaze and he looked away. She allowed herself a breath, the slow intake and exhale through parted lips, to relax her posture and rest her hands into her lap. He reached for her hand and she allowed him to take it.

It was with his touch that she could admit she loved him. There was a tenderness to his large hands, how his slender fingers were gentle to hold her own and the soothing gesture of his thumb making circular patterns on her palm.

“Kore,” he began and she looked up at him. “I will look further into this. I meant what I said that I am unable to return souls to the mortal realm, it is beyond my power, but I will find…” he hummed again. “Will you please come back tomorrow night?”

I will always find my way to you, but instead she only smiled, nodding her head. 

[quillthrillswriting]

sooo.... anyone else ever wondered how different ATLA would have been if aang had been frozen at age 16 instead of age 12?

yeah... me too 😌 my multichap kataang fanfic "the teenager in the iceberg" follows the events of the show, but with only aang aged up, while everyone else remains their canon age.

to put it clearly, katara falls first, and aang falls harder 🤭 (and they both get a lil jealous hehe)

enjoy the excerpts from chapter 6!!! (the jet episode!!)

⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩

“We’ve got a big plan to score big against the Fire Nation.” Jet kept his face straight ahead, his hooks swinging, and Katara could see the bit of wheat he still held between his teeth over his shoulder. 

“Sounds…big.” Aang said the words somewhat sarcastically, earning a choked giggle from Katara, but Jet didn’t quite seem to catch the nuance of it all.

“Oh, it will be.” He hacked aside a final overhanging branch. “Here we are.”

“...A bunch of holes in the ground?” Aang shifted his weight and raised an eyebrow, only to immediately drop to a defensive position when Katara swatted him, hard, on the arm and gave him a glare. He raised his hands in a “don’t shoot” position, and schooled his features into neutrality by the time Jet turned around. 

⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩

Aang paused his movements at this, letting the water he was bending drop to his feet, coursing through cracks in the rock floor beneath them. “Katara. You can’t genuinely believe that. Sokka is an idiot, but he’s not dumb.”

Katara raised an eyebrow. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“That Sokka can be goofy, sure, but I trust him and his perception, 100%. He doesn’t miss things. If anything, he sees and notices things most people don’t. If he doesn’t trust Jet….” Aang sighed, resuming his bending forms. “I just feel like you’re getting too close to him. Jet, I mean.”

“And what would the problem be with that?” Katara could hear her voice rising, her temper flaring.

“He’s a bad guy, Katara.”

“You don’t know that!”

“He hurt you!” Katara shut her mouth at the raw emotion in Aang’s voice. He was breathing heavily now, his fists clenching as wind whipped around them. He bit his lip, took in some deep breaths. “He hurt you,” he repeated, this time more gently. “I didn’t protect you quickly enough.”

⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩

Tonight was different. She still couldn’t sleep, that much was the same, but as she rose to drill her forms by the river, she felt a hand clamp around her forearm. She almost screamed, but when she whirled around to face her would-be attacker, she exhaled in a whoosh, relieved that it was only Aang.

“My bad,” he whispered, cringing at his choice to grab her arm without warning. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” 

Katara dropped back down onto her sleeping bag, neatly crossing her legs. Aang did his best to ignore that she was only in her wrappings now, that the moonlight was sparkling on her bare skin, like a spirit in a painting of old. “I was just…wanting some air.”

“C’mon, Katara, don’t even try. You’re an awful liar.” He flashed a grin, and in the dark, the starlight set his teeth aglow. “I know you’ve been bending at night.”

Katara blanched at this. “How?”

“Light sleeper?” Aang shrugged. “Plus, you’re not great at sneaking out, either. You’ve stepped on me pretty much every time you’ve gotten up to practise.”

⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩

“I, um…” Aang trailed off, and even in the dark, she could tell he was trying to hide a blush, could tell he was embarrassed. “I got you something.” He quickly backtracked, his voice somewhat frantic. “If you want. You might not. Want it, that is. And you don’t have to, and I’m not sure if it’ll even-”

“Aang.” Katara caught his hands in hers, looking into his eyes earnestly. “What is it?”

⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩

♥ the rest of the (ongoing) fic can be found here!! ->

happy reading! <3

[rabbitenn]

Hello!! Thank you so much for your hard work with every request! Your writing is amazing ♥ I've been meaning to send a request myself and I finally got the guts to do it (but on anon, I'm still shy lol). I was wondering if I could request something about Iori with a reader that's a voice instructor for i7 and Gaku with a reader that's a hairstylist? Headcanons or whatever you want it to be, that's up to you!! Thank you and it's ok if my request is too specific and you need to decline it!! xoxo ♥

MY BACKSTAGE DARLING.

In between performances yet to begin, you are his brightest star.

ft. Izumi Iori, Yaotome Gaku x gn! reader.

cw/genre: fluff, romance.

hello dear nonnie and thank you so very much for your kind words, I’m very happy you enjoy my writing <3 I’m glad you decided to send a request too (I get being shy, so feel free to interact/request on anon as much as you want !). I apologize that this took to long, but I still hope the fic is to your tastes. I went with scenarios for this one, I thought your idea suited this format, I hope you like it !

♡ IZUMI IORI

Iori knows his vocals are good enough, so why does he find himself staying overtime with IDOLiSH7’s voice instructor, he is not sure.

Well, in reality, if he were to face his true feelings, he does know the reason.

The youngest Izumi brother lets out a sigh, the exhaustion of a full day of practise starting to catch up to him.

Just a little longer.

He can still keep singing, if it means he’ll get to spend a few more minutes with you.

And he knows, he knows he’s being a tad bit unreasonable.

After all, it was always him who warned Riku to take care when the latter acted impulsively.

“Iori.”

Your sweet voice cuts through his murky thoughts, akin to a window opening to sunset skies, smoke dissipating from the confined room of his mind, as thick fog is pierced by sunlight.

The idol is quick to compose himself, clearing his throat at the time he asks:

“Yes, [last name]-sensei?”

You let out an airy chuckle, he always did have that habit of using honorifics with you.

“Just [Y/n] will do, we’re practically the same age.” You explain, giving him a soft smile.

The rosy hues the sky dyes in when you illuminate it with your light, mirror on his cheeks at your statement.

You were so good at what you did, that he sometimes forgot you hadn’t even graduated high school yet.

But then again, the same could be said for him, becoming an idol and helping with his group’s management.

“Right.” His midnight gaze averts to the side, as he tries your name on his tongue. “[Y-y/n].” He stammers, the color on his cheeks increasing in intensity.

A soft giggle leaves your lips.

“Were you thinking of staying for extra practise?” You inquire, sitting next to him, unaware of the effect that has on him.

Letting out a cough, he nods.

No, this won’t do. He has to pull himself together.

“That’s right.” He replies, expression serious.

The idol tries to keep his tone even, wishing the wild beat of his heart doesn’t betray his coolness.

“Hmm…” You ponder for a moment. “Your vocals today were perfect, as they always are.” You hold your chin in between your fingers, thinking. “So, I believe there is only one more assignment I can give you for the day.”

Indigo starlight swims in Iori’s eyes upon hearing that, the shine of his starry gaze betraying his composure.

“And that is, to rest.” You tell him, eyes fixated on his, as you put a hand on his shoulder. “You know, the vocal cords are… similar to another muscle of the body. You can’t forever keep it tense, or moving. It needs rest, to let all the hard work of the day sink in.” You lean back, your hands supporting you as you close your eyes briefly. “If you overdo it, you could very well be throwing away all the effort you put in with an injury.” You stand up from your sitting position, crouching before him. “So, no more work for today.” You order, flicking Iori’s forehead.

“But, I-“

“No management tasks either.” You point out, with a wink.

The idol’s eyes widen, to which you are quick to offer:

“My lips are sealed, don’t worry.” As you bring your index finger to them.

Iori’s shoulders slump.

His chance to spend more time with you has been shattered, unknowingly, by the one he loves.

Then, a sweet scent fills the room.

“Why don’t I share these cute snacks with you?” You suggest, showing him a bag of bunny shaped candies. “I got them this morning on my way here, and they were selling two bags for the price of one. Mind joining me?”

The sparkle returns to Iori’s eyes.

He’s too quick to accept the offer, causing for him to stumble a little over his words when he tries to regain poise.

But in this moment, he couldn’t care less if his emotions are shown.

Not when a silver lining presents before him in the form of your hand extended towards him.

♡ YAOTOME GAKU

He simply can’t resist you.

No matter how tired he is, your tender touches always manage to calm him down; a gentle prairie, held in the moment when daybreak approaches, a sliver of moon overseeing the impending sunrise.

It’s become usual too, since you came along, that every time he sits on a chair, his starlit locks twirl around your fingers.

Like right now, soft hums leaving his lips, as you gently sing one of his group’s songs.

To Gaku, it sounds perfect in your voice.

But then again, anything you do always feels that way to him.

He lets you decorate his hair in pink ribbons, after all; and he didn’t complain when you got him a whole set of hair care products, shampoos and conditioners because “Gaku, you’re a famous idol, you can’t keep using the first all in one soap you find. Not on my watch!”

Your pout as you scandalized over his choice of products was certainly adorable.

He chuckles now.

“Gaku, did I tickle you?” You ask, a smile palpable on your tone.

He turns around, the sight of you with hairbrush in hand as you are genuinely concerned about whether you made him uncomfortable, eliciting a tender smile to match his lovestruck gaze.

“Not at all, my dear.” Steely eyes flutter closed in a constellation rendered in twilight; in his view, you were radiant.

You give him a giggle, patting his head softly.

“You are sweet.” You utter, as you put down the hairbrush, slumping on a chair next to his.

It’s certainly been a long day at the studio today, with so many idols and actors appearing on the variety show, you’ve barely had time to rest at all.

But of course, you would have never missed the chance to do your boyfriend’s hair.

And obviously, you were not going to half-ass it.

He’s going live with the rest of TRIGGER in a few minutes, and truth be told, to you, he’s never looked as handsome as he does now.

You mentally pat yourself on the back a little for that; even if you are aware that nothing could really mask your lover’s beauty, you are glad you managed to do a good job.

Gaku stands up, walking towards you and placing a delicate kiss atop your head.

Your tired gaze meets his; kaleidoscopes dance in his stare with the first beams of moonlight filtering through the window.

“You guys are up soon.” You mumble, tucking a flyaway curl behind his ear.

TRIGGER’s leader catches your hand, as he leans against your touch. You were his good luck charm, after all.

“I know.” He whispers, as he brushes his lips over your palm.

You can feel the temperature on your face rising up at his display of affection; a thousand fiery butterflies to ignite in shades of passion a crescent moonlit night.

“I’ll be watching.” You reply, with a fleeting kiss to the corner of his lips. “See you backstage afterwards.” You muse, with a last gentle squeeze to his hand, before walking away.

He smiles.

Backstage was really your regular meeting spot lately.

He’ll have to take you on a proper date soon, he thinks, as he meets with his two groupmates.

[starlightinitiative]

And so the first Starlight Initiative event comes to its close for the night.

This was incredibly exciting and heartwarming! It was good to see everyone that showed up -- whether it was limited to appearances within our Discord, fleeting moments in-game, or those that even spent all weekend with us out at the event venue!

I genuinely cannot stress that this event would not be possible without all the kind and generous volunteers that are a part of the team. Whether they joined at the conception of the idea, or during the events thus far! So to the volunteers we have that are on our very own tumblr, and from the bottom of my heart, thank you to @blossomblade, @humblemooncat, @pangolinheart, @scholarlostintime, @irisopranta, @valdiis, @janzoo, @wrenanigans, @ivoryribcage, @phoenshire, @strawbebbynya, @strayingkat, and @bnuuywol! And thank you to all the ones that joined through the Discord that don't have a tumblr as well (that I know of!)! Thank you to our Discord members: Arigaaz, Atsuki Scypher, Elquinjena, Aureate Emrys, duz, Kyu Wishmaster, Mimarrah, and ProtostarMirage!

Maybe some of you who are tagged are thinking, "was I worth thanking?"

Yes. The answer is yes.

You believed in the Starlight Initiative to help get it off the ground. Your belief in this project, and much of everyone's excitement poured into it is what motivated me to go forward with it. To the new volunteers that we acquired over the course of the event, I am grateful for you as well! Your belief in this project and wanting to go out of your way to make others smile for the holidays is what makes this project something so amazingly touching to me.

I would have probably given up super easily if no one reached out. I wouldn't have had the drive to continue onward. But your belief in this to reach out is why I genuinely want to recognize and thank you for doing even just THAT. Your belief encouraged me, and we made such an amazing weekend for people who came by.

To everyone else as well, even if you're not a volunteer. It's easy to look at this event on a surface level and feel maybe jaded, incredulous, and skeptical of such an event; "People just giving away free stuff? Because they want to? Okay, what's the catch?"

I'm glad for you. You who believed and trusted in us to fulfill your wishes. You who came and got something. Who showed appreciation for what you got. You who got something for someone else special to you just to make their in-game experience something better.

Thank you. Thank you so much.

I also posted this in Discord for everyone that's there, but I feel like it bears repeating for anyone here seeing it for the first time that has come to the event, donated to it, or wanted to help in some way that maybe didn't join our server for whatever reason they may have had.

We have so many people ask: "What can I do in return? / What can I give you in return?" My answer may differ from some of the volunteers, or otherwise! Though I'd like to implore everyone who has this question in mind to simply repay the kindness forward. Make someone else smile this winter holiday -- no matter what holiday you celebrate! Make someone's winter season that much more enjoyable. Winter is rough for a myriad of reasons, and I feel like there's a lot of emphasis on bringing joy and warmth to others during the season, but sometimes it feels like it's never seen to. If you can and if you're welcome to, just bring a little extra warmth to someone who seems like they need it. ♥

Thank you for making this Weekend of Gift Giving something special. Let's do it again next year!

Happy Holidays, and Happy Starlight!

-Admin Prim

[wishing-stones]

Hello there! I hope you're doing good and that you have a good Black Friday when it comes. >w< This is for the send me a character thing!

How about Nightmare with the letter O?

Thank you very much and I hope you have a pleasant day~! ♥

I work retail, so black friday has been ongoing and busy LOL. Fortunately not in the sales part of it but I do keep track of customers and answer calls.

O. The stars or space.

Outertale had been there for almost as long as Nightmare could travel.

It was one of the first worlds he'd scrambled to, like a newborn fawn with unruly magic and wildly lashing tentacles. It was the place where he'd finally allowed himself the time to sit and calm and process what had happened.

He'd sat for hours beneath the stars and galaxies and cried. He'd wept for everything he had lost, for his frustration with his brother, for how alone he felt, truly alone now that his brother was gone. He'd mourned the loss of his home, grieved and lamented that people could be so cruel to a child, and agonized over why. Why him? What had he ever done to deserve such a fate? He was a child... was. He didn't feel much like that anymore. He felt like all of his childish innocence and wonder had been snuffed out. There was no longer a child. He'd grown up in an instant and had been forced to defend himself with newfound power.

None of that would have happened if Dream hadn't abandoned him. He felt bitter resentment rise like bile in his mouth. If he'd spent less time trying to play hero with the villagers, Dream would have been there to see what happened, to prevent what happened...

...

...But after a fit of righteous, anguished anger, he settled into the realization that... if Dream had been there, he'd have gotten hurt, too. He'd have gotten in the way, perhaps literally thrown himself on the sword to save him.

Nightmare wasn't sure he'd be able to live with himself if that happened.

As much as he hated this-- hated the fact that Dream left him there to suffer this terrible fate...

...It was probably for the best. If their roles were reversed, Nightmare didn't think that Dream would handle it as well as he was. Even though he'd had a (very literal) meltdown in the farthest reaches of an AU bathed in starlight and celestial wonder, he was still alive. He was still fighting, he was even stronger for it.

Once he'd stopped screaming and crying into the glittering void, he'd laid still and appreciated its beauty.

He always had loved the nighttime, and not just because of his name. The cool, quiet light of the moon was relaxing, the stars twinkled overhead in a silent lullaby, the song of crickets and glimmer of fireflies... The night brought things to life, let those with light shine, no matter how dim it might seem in the daytime.

Darkness made everything seem brighter.

It had been a long time since that day, but Nightmare made return trips to that very spot quite often. There was a worn spot on the floating rocks where he'd sat over five hundred years of time. Small divots and scratches in the dark stone marked where he'd traced his phalanges or tentacles over it in thought. He came here when he needed to clear his head, to just... think.

It was a spot that had never failed him. He was sure his underlings-- most of them anyway-- knew of this place. No one ever came to bother him while he was here, but... they always seemed to know when he came back.

Today, he just came here to relax beneath the stars. He sprawled himself on the rock and watched the endless sea of stars drift overhead, following the occasional shimmering trail of a meteorite as they streaked overhead.

He was thankful for this place, the calm and serenity and beauty it provided. The quiet space to sit and sort his thoughts out, the wide open expanse that destroyed all feelings of claustrophobia.

Nightmare lay beneath the stars and smiled a small, serene smile to himself.

It was good to have at least one solid constant in this multiverse.

[lifewtr]

Until Then (Sometimes)

2. Ripping a fourth orgasm out of him feels very, very tempting.

And yet, Kento refrains. Only leans in and kisses Satoru softer this time; coaxes him back to pliant and lax with long, soothing swipes of his palm up and down his side. With gentle butterfly kisses across his jaw and down his neck. Soft whispers of sweet nothings.

Satoru settles back into the bed with a little hum; a quiet, happy sound that makes Kento’s heart do a lot more than just simply twist.

Kento reaches over and flicks the bedside lamp off, lets Satoru bury his face against his shoulder, and then finally lets that satisfied fatigue make his body nice and heavy, his mind nice and quiet—calm, despite all of the thinking he knows he has to do—all of the thinking that he should be doing..

“Hey, Nanamin?” Satoru’s voice is soft and sleepy as it cuts through the soft dark, only slightly muffled from where he’s tucked away.

“Hm?”

A pause. “..Tonight... was..”

Kento’s heart fucking aches. He hasn’t been hiding, not even in the slightest bit over the last few months—but has he finally been caught..? Caught, like he has been silently hoping for after all of this time?—but Satoru is fading fast against him, breaths starting to fall evenly with each exhale.

“Yeah,” Kento admits quietly, “it.. it was.”

Another pause.

“...Nanamin..”

“Shh, Satoru,” Kento leans down and plants a soft kiss on his temple; another at his hairline, reassuring. “Rest,” he tells the angel at his side. “Tomorrow,” he promises.

‘Tomorrow,’ he promises it to himself, too, swears it as he lets his ears tune into steady lungs next to his own; closes his eyes against the dark. ‘Tomorrow,’ he swears, ‘I will tell him.’

Until then..?

“Okay.” Satoru yawns, snuggling further against him, sweet and content. “G’night, Ken.”

Kento buries his nose in starlight hair with a sigh.

“Goodnight, angel.”

full chapter on AO3 ♥

[just-pug-things]

On this merry Starlight, it turns out lightning does indeed strike twice!

I hope y'all have a good and safe one! ♥

[aka-indulgence]

Moonlight Submission

Submitted by @truckfreaks!! A ficlet for moonlight aaaah!!!! I love the portrayal of both Sunlight and Sans in here!!! Give it a read its lovely (♥ω♥ ) Love your writing style!!

——

i mentioned the other day i had a lil ficlet of an idea, thanks again for being open for submissions :D

—

“…Waning?”

You racked your brain for a moment, wondering where you’d heard the word. It sounded familiar enough. Suddenly, a memory plays in your head…

That’s right. It was during a phase where you had been particularly enamored with Greece. So many curious human minds fighting to make sense of the world around them, and stars, how close they’d gotten! As often as you could, you’d trickle into the sophists’ studies with the early morning, quietly listening from the floor until Sun called you home. Being a daughter of the cosmos, you always delighted in entertaining their theories about gods, the stars, the planets -

The planets. Ah. That’s why it sounded familiar.

“yes, starlight. waning,” spoke a decidedly exhausted voice from the shadows behind the bars in front of you. You knew that voice by now, but you’d never heard him sound quite this… defeated.

How many times had you made this trip now? Although the God of the Moon terrified you in ways you didn’t understand, he intrigued you in ways you understood even less. Here he was, an ancient, powerful, downright dangerous force of nature, and yet… despite his obvious strength, his restraints rendered him inert. You think you might pity him more than anything, the way his magic crackles and trills in the air around you at the sight of a damned bun cake.

Clearly, you thought, he was suffering in here. And with ample reason. But this - this waning, it was different.

“I remember,” you begin cautiously, “hearing the old astronomy teachers of Earth discussing your phases.”

A humorless laugh huffed from behind the bars, punctuated by the tinkling of shackles. “i know i’m not exactly a welcome topic of conversation amongst your family, but have they really gone so far as to scrub me entirely from your education? you had to hear about this from earth?”

It was true, you had to admit. Sun had all but forbade the topic outright, only mentioning that once there was a Moon God, and he is no longer welcome in their halls. Everything else was whispered rumors swapped amongst sisters like scandalous gossip, ghost stories, telephone secrets… and after all, isn’t that why you came here in the first place?

Besides, something was just different about him today. All of the bite and none of the teeth … not like the other times. You felt brave.

“I thought you were supposed to be convincing me that you’ve come around on this whole ‘hating the earth’ thing,” you drawled. “Or do you just welcome me back here because you like their cakes?”

From the shadow, a single skeletal digit, then two, then an entire hand, reached through the barrier to wrap gently around a pole of steel. You had barely been able to see him this entire time - he seemed content to accept your refusal to feed him this time, settling for rolling the small buns to him through the partition. But now, in this prison that seemed impossibly dark, yet darker than you’d ever seen it before, he pulled himself into view…

…And he looked awful.

Somehow paler, somehow more gaunt, somehow less imposing. The Moon God before you was not the one you’d first met so many revolutions ago. This one felt like a caricature. A joke. Even the crescent of a smile that played on his face, always on his face, felt forced. There was none of the sick, manic joy you’d seen when he tried to pull at you, when he licked you, all of the times he went out of his way to make you so damn uncomfortable.

When he spoke, it was like the rustle of dead leaves.

“neither. but you knew that.”

He leaned weakly against the wall, lit just well enough to accentuate the deep lines and grooves across his bony features. Why did it fill you with so much hurt to hear him like this? Before you could stop yourself, you felt your brow furrow, your feet moving forward, one step, then two, then he was aglow with the light of you and so much more … relaxed? Or maybe it was relief.

“Sans-“

“please,” he said, wincing at the name. “don’t do this now.”

“Do … what?” you asked. But you knew what he meant, didn’t you? Normally, at this range, you’d have instinctively reeled backward at his advance, imprisoned or not - a reactive behavior he loved to use to toy with you. This time, he was the one who recoiled.

All bite. No teeth.

You tried again. “… Is it like being sick? I mean, it’s a cycle, right? So you’ll be okay in a few days,” you offered.

“sick?” he spat back, recovering his normal demeanor quickly. The echo of his dragging chains filled the room as he brought himself up to his full height, face to the bars, hands clutching at the cool metal with a controlled grip. “there’s nothing wrong with me. see me, child. do i not look as i always have?”

His eyelights flared white hot, then faded, like he had focused on something far away.

“do i no longer terrify you?”

You stared back at him, baffled. “You never…” you began, but caught yourself. Don’t lie. You were afraid. But you wanted to understand.

“never?” he asked quietly, face softening when his eyelights sharpen enough to meet yours. They jump and flicker and trace your body until -

“i welcome you back here for no reason but your company, lux. i need no food. i need no shelter. i need no enrichment.”

His voice dropped to a whisper. “i need no forgiveness.”

He drew down so his face was level with yours, so small compared to the sheer size, the impossible geometry of him, and studied you reverently. It was the first time he’d looked at you with something other than some kind of hunger. You stared back, unblinking, while you raised one small hand against your better judgement.

He breathed imperceptibly when your fingers hovered over his, and you jumped when you felt the slightest tracing of bone against your palm. Your eyes dart to your hand, like this is the same damn thing all over again, like you made the same stupid mistake, but … nothing happened. He didn’t move. And despite every atom in your being screaming not to, you placed your hand on his.

“you’re so warm,” he said with an air of surprise and a rare, genuine smile. “that’s what makes you so different, you know. i see it now.”

He places another hand over yours, now clasped between his, and sinks down to the ground completely. You slowly sat yourself in front of him, still staring, still marveling at your own bravery - or foolishness.

“the new moon is cold. dark.” One digit traces softly at your wrist. “nothing at all like you.”

The light reflected in his face flared as you realized with heady embarrassment that you were positively flushed. The God of the Moon, this creature of rumor and disgrace and death, simply chuckled and grinned, reveling in the heat like a cat.

That was enough to bring you out your ridiculous reverie. “You seem fine to me,” you snap, taking your hand away and sitting back a little farther. Stars, you could still feel yourself burning.

His hands drew back to his sides as his massive form faded back into the dark. “you know, little one, i feel better already.”

Good, you think, gathering your things. I’ve had enough of being made a fool of for one day. 

“but,” he added, his grin catching the flicker of your light, “i would really like it if you stayed just a bit longer. who knows what those fools on earth were teaching you. why not hear it from me?” Your eyes narrowed at him in stern disbelief.

“i’m serious. please,” he said a little too quickly. “stay.”

You weighed your options, until…

“… One lesson.”

You set your things back on the ground. Sighing, you lean forward until you’re laying on your stomach, your head in your hands. Just like you used to stretch across the floor of those old Grecian homes, listening to the sophists. His face lit up as you drew closer, his pitch sockets softened in the glow.

“i suppose i’d better make it a good one.”

[jealousveronya]

A Court of Pomegranates and Narcissi

Chapter 1

Pairing: feysand

Summary: In Rhysand’s humble opinion, nothing good could ever come out of the Spring Court, nothing worth his time would ever originate from there, and neither would something he’d consider remotely pretty. As if to prove to Prythian how much he despised the court of flowers and butterflies, Rhysand went as far as to annihilate roses, the Spring Court's signature flower, faes’ favorite flower, from The Night Court. Chances are he would continue to believe all of that had he not encountered the pretty little bride of Spring on his quest to murder the members of the Spring Court. For the first time, he may just want something from that wretched court.

Canon AU with some changes

Read Chapter 1: AO3 or click keep reading

i have no idea how tumblr works help ♥

Ch 1: the pretty little bride

The children of the Spring Court had trouble falling asleep that night. They complained to their parents that it was too dark or too scary and while such things were not unusual for some children to say, this night it was like all children of the Spring suddenly had monsters living under their beds.

The complaint that somehow their rooms were darker than usual was the oddest considering that they went to bed in the same rooms as they always have and with the same amount of light. The parents patted them on their tiny heads and brushed away their concerns, saying to their children that they were just imagining things. However, the thoughts swirling in the parents’ minds did not match those said words. They would never say it aloud, whether they didn’t want to further scare their children or seem crazy, it didn’t matter, but deep down they all agreed that this night was darker than the others, and not only in the sense that the sky somehow looked darker, but also that this night caused a dreadful chill to run over their bodies.

So instead of sleeping, parents lit up candles around their homes, hoping for its light to scare away any monsters of the night. Then they all got under their blankets, lit their fires, and snuggled up in front of those fires with their kids while whispering to each other the promises of tomorrow.

Everything is okay.

Everything will be okay.

But they didn’t believe the words that were leaving their lips, so while watching the sparks of fire and listening to the crackling of the logs, they prayed to the Cauldron and The Mother for the Sun to rise earlier this time - for the night to end sooner.

Only tomorrow will they hear that as they prayed for the night to leave, the fae out of whom night, shadows and pure darkness leaked out in swirling patterns, the embodiment of the night itself, the lord of the night, the death incarnate, was marching right to the center of their court with hands in his pockets, dressed in all black, and a smirk painted on his face - The High Lord of the Night Court in the flesh.

He had planned on visiting his dear old friend’s family for a long time and now it was finally the time.

So no, the night was not darker because The Mother decided to dim the moonlight or because a star or two got lost, it was darker because the ruler of the night carried his version of the night, the more sinister night, the deadlier night, wherever he walked.

Stomping on the cobblestone path with his laced-up leather black boots that glistened in the starlight, Rhysand scanned his surroundings. He was glad he came during the night, not only because it was poetic this way, High Lord of the Night Court destroying the Spring Court in the dead of night, but also because he didn’t think he would be able to stand looking at the Spring Court during the day. The color green dominated his field of sight and he was glad the lack of light made it less vibrant than it surely was during the day. It wasn’t weird that everything was green, what other color should grass, leaves, and bushes be after all? Rhysand just didn’t like how it looked, it was unsettling how everything was the exact same shade of green and how every single plant looked perfect. It didn’t look like it was nature’s doing, it looked like it was a work of faes. The Spring in his court looked a lot more natural. There were various shades of greens and browns and random flowers that did not look like they belonged on the ground they grew on, but that’s what made it work in Rhysand’s opinion.

The Spring Court manor was in front of him and leading to it was the cobblestone path he walked on which had bushes of roses on both sides of it, mostly red, but there were also pink and white roses. A rose was a signature flower of the Spring Court, one that they even had on their flag and it was also the only flower Rhys made sure to completely annihilate from his court.

Around the manor was a very thick forest, so thick he couldn’t see past a few trees even with his incredible fae sight.

There was no sight of ground or dirt, there was no splotch of brown, it was all perfectly covered by the green grass which stretched out to no end. It looked comfortable. The grass was so lush, Rhysand thought falling asleep on it would be no problem - one good thing about this wicked court. The grass was decorated with flowers of all shapes and colors, like yellow, white, pink, red, and violet.

A few butterflies flew across his vision.

Rhysand debated just winnowing in front of the manor, on the white marble steps, and skipping this long boring path, the only problem was that he used his magic to hide his presence from the High Lord and his family, and winnowing would reveal him to them. He thought about how the battle might go if his presence was found out before walking into the manor, given that winnowing right inside was impossible because of the spells that guarded every manor of every court, even his own. Lost in thought, his eyes fell over the bushes next to him and a red rose caught his attention. It was one amongst many that made up those bushes that decorated the way to the Spring Court manor, but for some reason, that rose stood out to him, so much that he had to stop walking to stare at it.

He didn’t know why exactly.

Its color was nothing special; it was the same shade of blood red that was common amongst roses. It had the same pattern of petals as the rest, the same leaves with sharper edges, and the same thorns.

Thorns.

When people think of roses they usually think of their beauty and elegance and sometimes they forget about the thorns, or better said, they overlook them. As if thorns can be forgiven because of the beauty a rose possesses.

That’s exactly how the rest of Prythian and the world looked at the Spring Court.

‘Sure, they may have done some terrible things, but did you SEE their flowers?’

Rhysand snorted at the thought.

Well, he didn’t plan on ignoring the crimes Tamlin’s family had committed because of a few colorful petals.

He was finally going to make them pay for everything. For. Everything.

Sure, it took him longer than he would have liked, but Amarantha took priority. And now, fifty years later, he was walking slowly to the Spring Court mansion, hands in his pockets, as if he was going to get married at the end of the pathway and not murder an entire court.

Oh, well.

Perhaps, the reason this rose called out to him was its position. It was directly pointing at him, unlike the rest. It was like the rose was watching him, judging him for what he was about to do to its court.

He took one final look at that red rose before deciding to stomp on it with his black boot. He broke the flower’s stem in multiple places and made sure with a swift motion of his ankle that all of its red petals were ripped off.

He smirked after he removed his leg and looked at the mess he made out of the judging flower.

That’s exactly how easily he was going to wipe away Tamlin and his family from existence too.

Looking at the other bushes, he got an urge to destroy all those other roses with his magic, but that would give away his presence and the reason Rhysand hesitated on winnowing before was that he wanted to just casually stroll into the manor and humiliate the High Lord of the Spring Court because of how easy it was for him to walk in unnoticed. 

Rhysand resumed his slow walk towards the doors of the manor, promising to himself that he'll take care of the other roses later. 

His appearance was glamoured so no one could see him through the windows.

Speaking of windows, he could see that the lights throughout the mansion were lit up.

Good.

He didn’t want to bother with waking up faes and killing someone in their sleep was really not his style.

His footsteps were like the tick-tocks of a clock that was counting down the remaining seconds the family of Spring had.

The Lord of the Night tried to occupy his mind in hopes that time would pass faster that way. He wondered who would become the High Lord of the Spring Court after he killed the entire family. Would it be someone else from the court? Would the Spring Court cease to exist, its territory left for other courts to split amongst themselves? Would he, Rhysand, get the powers of the Spring Court because he destroyed its royal bloodline? That would make him even stronger and he was the strongest High Lord ever to be born. While he liked the thought of having more power, he didn’t want to possess any powers related to Spring so he found himself hoping he wasn’t going to become the next High Lord of the Spring Court.

Soon, but not soon enough in Rhysand’s opinion, he found himself face to face with the enormous white door after climbing the white marble stairs.

He looked at his hand, examining it, and then knocked, gently.

As he waited for the door to open, he analyzed the golden details on the white wooden door. The details were in shapes of flowers, animals, and other things people associated with Spring. Given that his court had Spring, he didn’t feel like he was missing out. In fact, the Night Court was the only court that didn’t import any goods from the Spring Court during fall and winter, completely relying on their reserves and Summer Court.

Rhysand made that decision because he knew that nothing good ever came out of the Spring Court.

He remembered the rose he just destroyed and how other people would marvel at it, but it was just not his taste, so in his humble opinion, nothing pretty ever came out of the Spring Court either.

Nothing of this court was worth his time, but he had always been gracious, so he decided to dedicate this entire day to destroy it.

The door finally opened, he removed the glamour that masked his appearance, and with a long step, smooth as a fox, the death incarnate walked in.

The light inside almost blinded him for a second.

“You are not Tamlin.”

The words spoken belonged to a female who stood in front of him, not too far, but not too close. She wore a pink nightgown that reached just past her knees with straps over her shoulders that were decorated with daises. The gown had white and silver embroidery of similar elements he just stared at on the door. Her long hair that extended up to her elbows was golden brown. Her cheeks, which were covered in freckles, were flushed as if she had been running.

The door was opened by two sentries and the whole hall, he found himself in, was filled with sentries lined up against the walls which was weird considering a HIGH LORD lived here with THREE somewhat strong SONS, so what are a few average sentries for?

As soon as the door opened and Rhys saw that female with a confused, but not horrified, expression, he realized two things.

He had never seen her before and he had no idea who she was.

Neither did she know who he was.

None of the members of the family of the Spring Court were present. The High Lord of the Spring Court had never been particularly strong so Rhysand never questioned why he couldn’t feel his presence outside of the manor, but now he realized that had been a sign of his absence.

The fact this female did not recognize him was what Rhysand found very insulting. Why would someone in the Spring Court manor not know what he look liked? For what they did to his family, the least they could do is make sure every member of their court knew to recognize him, they should hold classes with his potraits, they should learn hlw dangerous he was and how they should run with their tail between their legs if they saw him shall he decide to seek revenge one day, well not that running would help them escape him, but still…

Before any word left her lips, Rhysand took a hold of every sentry and every maid’s mind in the manor and held them firmly, refusing to let them speak. Their faces which began to show horror after they realized who they just let into the manor returned to normal, natural expressions with his deamati power. He didn’t want them to in any way give the female in front of him an indication that she should be wary of him.

“You are not Tamlin”, she said while crossing her arms in front of her chest, looking rather disappointed. Her eyes left his and wandered around the hall and Rhysand could swear she took notice of how the sentries and maids quickly, but surely changed expressions.

“Obviously”, Rhysand said while casually taking a step toward her and as he did so the guards closed the door behind him with a loud sound that echoed throughout the hall. He had only been inside here on a few occasions, all of which he could count on one hand. The place didn’t change much. The floor was made out of white tiles and the walls were white with numerous paintings of nature – spring, all in golden frames. There were doors leading to the dining room, kitchen, and the offices, then there were the stairs, one on the right, one on the left, leading to the second floor where he presumed the bedrooms were.

The female his eyes were locked on stood in front of one of the stairs. Rhysand wondered whether that was why she was in a nightgown with flushed cheeks. Whether she had been in bed and ran down when she heard his knock, thinking it was Tamlin's. 

Her smell swirled in the air until it finally hit his nostrils. Her scent, which was surprisingly sweet on his nose as Rhysand found out, was mixed with a male’s scent, a scent that gave him a lot of unwelcoming gruesome flashbacks of green tunics, bloody splotches on the ground, mixing with mud and dirt, tears stinging his eyes - Rhysand had to close his eyes and release a deep breath in hopes of driving away the memories that that fragrance managed to unlock.

The female smelt like Spring itself held her under the sheets.

It was Tamlin’s scent if he had to guess, mostly because that was who the female in front of him was awaiting since he, his brothers, and his father smelt about the same with small, almost unnoticeable, differences, as all families did.

Rhysand snorted at the pictures his mind produced of this female and Tamlin pressed against each other. He didn’t think the arrogant fool was capable of acquiring a lover, even the worst kind of lovers. But from the looks of it, this female could not only put up with his idiotic behavior, but she was also letting him settle himself inside her and on top of that she was actually impatiently awaiting his arrival, so much she’d run down the stairs half-naked.

Rhysand scanned the female from head to toe, dragging his eyes over her pointed ears, blue-grey eyes, slender nose, full lips, smooth neck, and plump breasts that almost spilled out of her nightgown. Her breasts were especially raised high, giving her a pretty cleavage because of how her crossed arms were resting under them, pushing them up. She didn’t seem to notice that. He continued lowering his eyes, grimacing at the design of the nightgown. He made a point to slowly drag his eyes down her delicate legs.

Too pretty to be Tamlin’s, Rhysand thought.

Now Rhysand had to decide what he was to do with her. It didn’t seem right to kill her along with the others, after all, she did nothing wrong except pleasure one of his immortal enemies.

“Who are you?” She asked and though the question was directed at him, she looked more at the sentries guarding the door.

“An old friend of Tamlin’s.”

“I wasn’t aware we were expecting guests.”

“I didn’t call in advance, I am sorry.” He bowed his head at that and she seemed to relax after that gesture.

“What should I call you?” She angled her head in curiosity.

“Rhysand.” The lord of the night smirked. “or Rhys.”

“Tamlin never mentioned a friend named Rhysand.”

Rhysand expected that, as she heard his name she’d try running back upstairs, screaming and crying for the sentries to save her, however, it would appear his existence was so unimportant to the Spring Court, they never even spoke of his name to their new members and at that thought his blood started to boil. Rhysand could swear his own blood was trying to cook him alive. He couldn’t believe that the members of this wretched court deemed him so beneath them, so weak, so so so trivial!

His family was not trivial one hundred years ago when they decided they had no other option, but to slaughter them! And now they dare see him as something that posed no threat to them! How dare they… He couldn’t wait to show everyone in Prythian that he was the strongest High Lord ever to be born, that for the first time, for some reason, the seven high lords were not equal in power.

“Perhaps he forgot. You acquire a lot of friends in a lifetime as long as his. He couldn’t possibly list all of his friends to you.” The female nodded to his response. “And who might you be, darling, I don’t remember you from before.”

She hesitated at first, looking at the sentries surrounding them as if waiting for approval to answer his question.

Rhysand made one of the guards she locked eyes with nod and instantly the female started speaking.

“I am Feyre Archeron, the High Lord’s fiancé.” She bowed her head as it was customary when introducing yourself in the Spring Court.

High Lord’s fiancé? The words rang in Rhysand’s mind over and over again and he started to wonder whatever the Cauldron was going on in this vicious court.

Could it be that the lady of Spring passed away and the High Lord decided to take another wife, one that was undoubtedly too young for him? And could it be that this female had just coincidently caught the eye of the High Lord’s son, Tamlin himself, so now they were both taking her to bed and sharing her? Or had Tamlin decided to have his way with the future lady of Spring behind his father’s back?

Rhysand knew Tamlin was a backstabber but bedding his father’s bride? Now that was something.

Or could it be-

Rhysand used his deamati powers to go through the minds of the sentries, picking apart their memories, running claws over the shape of their brains, trying to find pieces of the puzzle that just unraveled in front of him.

As the final piece fell into its place and Rhysand saw the full picture, he didn’t know whether he was about to fall onto his knees crying and punching the white tiles with his fists as his knuckles turned white and then stained red with his blood, or whether he was about to unleash enough magic that he would cause an eternal black night.

The High Lord of the Spring Court was dead.

The lady of the Spring Court was dead.

Their oldest son was dead.

Their second oldest son was dead.

The only one who remained living was Tamlin, the new High Lord of the Spring Court.

And this female was his soon-to-be wife, the new lady of the Spring Court.

Rhysand cursed everything in his mind. He cursed the day he decided to go after Amarantha, he cursed the fact it took him so long to rip her throat out, and he cursed the one who took his revenge from him.

Beron.

He laughed soundlessly.

Was he to kill Beron now?

He dug and dug, but he couldn’t find any memories in sentries and maids’ minds to tell him why Beron decided to murder the Spring Court and leave only Tamlin alive. Rhysand’s eyes snapped back up at the female – Feyre as she said –  and he slid his claws over her mind, gently so as to not alert her. If someone knew the answers to his questions, it had to be her, the bride of Spring. He found a lot of sights and memories that made bile rise up his throat and he almost gagged trying to keep it down. He felt Tamlin’s claws over her skin, rough in a gentle way, possessive, he unlocked the memory of his smell, the feel of his teeth everywhere, on her neck, on her breasts, between her legs - he saw the pace with which he slammed into her - for the love of Cauldron he just wanted to know about the reason behind Beron’s act of terror,  he didn’t need to know Tamlin’s love life in such gruesome detail, Rhysand thought.

He found the first moment she walked into the Spring Court manor and realized it was when Tamlin was already a High Lord… meaning she became a bride of Spring after the incident, in other words, she didn’t know anything of value.

But there was something, some memories, he couldn’t unlock as easily as he wanted to. It was like there was a selective mental shield over them. Rhysand felt his curiosity spark up at this, he had never seen anything like it.

Well, he will still kill Tamlin and afterward he could take his sweet time undoing those mental shields, though he would have to go through the memories of Tamlin’s body against her own again…

“Would you like something to drink?” Feyre angled her head in curiosity as her voice brought him back to the present.

“Ah, yes, tea would be nice.”

“You can sit here.” She smiled sweetly before pointing with her head towards a small table with two chairs made out of, what Rhysand assumed to be, birch wood. It was in front of a big window out of which you could see the stars and the moon now. The table was decorated with a small delicate white table cloth and on top of it was a pink vase filled with all kinds all flowers, all of which looked so fresh, like they were plucked from the ground just a minute ago.

Rhysand took his seat as Feyre turned around and headed towards the door which he presumed led to the kitchen.

He watched the back of her slender naked legs as she walked away.

Rhysand smiled to himself.

He’d have to decide what he was to do with Beron now. He hoped to kill all members of the Spring Court which now meant only killing Tamlin and that wasn’t nearly as satisfying. Given that the previous High Lord of the Spring Court was responsible for the attack on his family, he hoped to kill all of his family in front of him, making him suffer as much as he could, and only then would he kill him. Killing only Tamlin was tasteless. Was he to kill Tamlin and the autumn court for ruining his revenge? He wanted to be the one to kill them so as weird as it sounded, Rhysand wasn’t happy that the majority of the Spring Court was dead.

Lost in his thoughts, Rhysand almost missed the feel of someone winnowing behind him.

Feyre.

Not moving an inch, making her think she was in control, he let her press the knife in her hand against the front of his throat.

He chuckled.

“I should have known. After all, what lady goes to get tea for the guest by herself in a room full of maids. You never even looked at them, as if you knew that they weren’t exactly themselves.”

“Release them.” She ordered while pressing the knife harder against his throat. Rhysand looked at the shiny thing in her hand.

“Or what?”

He took a hold of her wrist and ripped her hand away from his throat, and at that Feyre released a yelp of surprise.

Rhysand smirked at the sound her lips produced.

Not waiting a second for her to adjust, he pulled her by her wrist so she’d come in front of him. She stumbled because of that, almost tripping on her own two feet. Then with one swift motion, he pulled her again, now to the right so she’d be directly in front of him. She barely had any balance and the moment she was in front of his feet with parted legs, Rhysand used the perfect opportunity and reached for her knees, using them to prop her up on his lap so she was straddling his thighs with hers. Her skin was as soft as it looked, Rhysand remarked and almost grimaced at the thought of Tamlin’s rough claws running against it.

“There, sit on my lap like the good girl Tamlin knows you are.” He patted the skin under her knees. Her pink nightgown wrinkled against his pants and  exposed even more of her legs with the fabric now reaching her mid-thighs.

“Fuck you.” She again pressed the knife against his throat. Rhys looked at it, released a breath of his on it and instantly the knife evaporated, turning into silver sparkles that landed on his black jacket, looking like the stars that decorated tonight’s night sky. 

Fear covered her face as she saw her only weapon turn into some kind of powder and Rhys chuckled at that expression, specifically watching her rosy lips slightly part in disbelief.

He rose his hands higher on her thighs, almost reaching her nightgown and she visibly shivered at his touch.

He couldn’t help but chuckle again at that. “Relax, darling, you wouldn’t like to give the members of your court any ideas, would you?” He breathed down her neck.

“Release them.” She repeated.

“Hm?” He angled his head as a playful smirk appeared on his lips. “Are you sure you’d like that, darling? This way I can make them forget about what they saw, but maybe you would rather have them remember their lady on the High Lord of the Night Court’s lap.” He made a point of pulling her even closer to him by gripping her thighs.

Rhysand looked at the cleavage her nightgown so nicely exposed. “Your breasts are rather spectacular. They look as delicious as ripe apples and from what I saw in your mind, you let Tamlin take a bite quite often, would you mind if I had a taste? Would you mind if your subjects saw me take a bite?”

“Go to hell.”

Her face was flushed from her nose to her pointy ears.

She looked so furious Rhysand expected her to slap him or get her hands around his throat ready to strangle him right then and there, but she hesitated, clenching her fists in her lap. Rhysand heard her think Tamlin will come soon repeatedly as if those words were supposed to provide her enough security and comfort.

“Where is the High Lord of flowers and butterflies anyway?” Rhysand asked her.

“He’ll come soon.” Her eyes narrowed to slits.

“How soon? Soon as in I have enough time to take you upstairs to a bedroom, or soon as in I have to take you right here?”

And at that, she slapped him.

The sound of the skin of her palm hitting his cheek rang throughout the hall. His head was turned to the side from the impact and he scanned the crowd of sentries and maids that was frozen in place. He breathed out. There was something unusual about her slap, or rather, there was something unusual about her palm. His skin burned as if her palm was burning fire itself - like it was some kind of magic.

“Interesting,” Rhysand commented.

“You are disgusting.”

“I am sorry, darling, but you have to understand, I have come here to kill the High Lord and his three sons, and now since only one of his sons is alive, killing him just doesn’t scratch the itch that has been driving me insane for the past one hundred years the same way killing all four of them would.” He leaned dangerously close to her ear. “So now I am forced to come up with alternatives and you have to admit, fucking Tamlin’s fiancé before killing him is a very enticing idea.” His words were a breathless purr and she felt hot in her face, but also cold as every hair on her body rose up in protest with the shivers that ran along her skin.

“Tamlin is strong. You won’t be able to kill him.”

“I think I am stronger.” He brushed away a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Tell me about yourself, darling, as we wait for your big brave fiancé to arrive.”

“I don’t have to tell you anything.”

“Oh, is that it?” He pushed her chin down so her eyes were directly locked with his. “So how about this, for every question of mine you refuse to answer, I’ll kill one of them.” He used his head to point towards the sentries and maids who were still standing, looking as if nothing was happening in front of them.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

He winked at her and a loud thump was heard from across the room. Feyre sharply turned around to see where the sound came from only to notice a guard that was in front of the door had dropped dead and was now lying on the floor.

All color drained from her face and she was as pale as the white tiles beneath them.

“So, Fey-ruh, how did you meet Tamlin?

“On Tithe. My father was sick so I came with the offering.” She answered sharply. 

Rhysand hummed in response. “And the little High Lord fell in love.”

Feyre blushed at that and her eyes lowered to her hands.

Rhysand followed her line of sight and noticed the green emerald ring that shined on her finger. He didn’t know how he hadn’t noticed it beford. “What a pretty ring.” He said sarcastically and Feyre instantly clenched her fist and covered the ring with her other hand.

“So I take it you were born in the Spring Court.” She nodded. “A pity” He sighed and looked away from her.

“You shield your mind good. I had no idea you knew who I was. How did you do that?”

“Don’t you know everything?”

“Only because I ask the right questions.”

He brushed away the hair from her shoulder exposing a gruesome bite mark. The red idents of sharp teeth looked so painful against her white skin. Rhysand ran his fingers along the teeth markings.

“He is such an animal. How can you enjoy it?”

Feyre swallowed something stuck in her throat.

And then Rhysand felt him – the High Lord of the Spring Court.

Tamlin.

And Tamlin obviously felt him too which was why he was running at a somewhat incredible speed to the manor on all fours –

ON ALL FOURS?

Rhysand’s eyes widened.

The door broke down and a strong wind flew into the hall causing the pieces of the white wood that once made up that door to fly everywhere. Rhysand whipped his head to see the disaster just in time and managed to make a shield around him and Feyre causing the few pieces of wood that went flying towards them to bounce off the shield, leaving them unscathed. However, the same couldn’t be said for the sentries and especially for the maids that now had bruises and cuts on their bodies, some more serious than the others. Rhysand released their minds letting the maids run for their lives screaming while tears streamed down their cheeks. The sentries on the other hand took a defensive position around the thing that broke down the door of his own manor -  an enormous fuzzy beast with fangs snarling at him.

“Rhysand…” The beast growled.

“Tamlin? Is that you?” Rhysand’s laugh echoed in the room. “I take it that some sort of weird plague took out all your barbers.” He smirked at him, his hands still on Feyre’s naked thighs. “Tell you what, I give you my best barber in exchange for this pretty thing.” His hands yet again rose higher, the tips of his fingertips going beneath Feyre’s nightgown.

Feyre pushed against his chest, trying to escape his grip. Surprisingly, he let her go and she stumbled as she ran toward Tamlin’s beastly form.

Tamlin went in front of her, taking a defensive stance, probably trying to shield her from Rhysand.

Rhysand raised his right leg and put his ankle against the knee of the other. He leaned his chin on his hand that was resting on the table, his spine curved to the side – the perfect image of boredom.

Rhysand could swear he saw smoke coming out of Tamlin’s enormous fuzzy nostrils.

“Get out.” The beast growled again, but didn’t move an inch.

“Oh, I will.” The corners of his mouth rose. “After I kill you.”

His magic exploded in the room and everything went black. No one could see anything, it was like night itself walked into the manor but left the moon and stars behind the door, bringing in the only black never ending nothingness.

The blackness flew into Tamlin and he was sent flying back into the wall, making an indent in the shape of him in it. As he fell from the wall to the ground, he detransformed into a disheveled blonde fae male in a ripped green tunic. The sentries formed a line in front of him, showing loyalty to their High Lord, but Rhysand with one wave of his hand sent them flying towards the wall like he did Tamlin and they were all knocked out cold.

Tamlin’s head rose and he coughed out. “Feyre.”

“Don’t worry, your pretty little bride is okay.” He stepped to the side letting Tamlin get a look at Feyre who was at the other end of the hall, her hands tied to the railing of the stairs with what appeared to be a shadow. Tears were spilling out of her eyes and rolling down her cheeks like rivers. “Tamlin!” She screamed out.

“Such dramatics.” Rhysand rolled his eyes before stepping back so he blocked Feyre from Tamlin’s view. “I spent the last one hundred years wondering, why, why did you have to kill them? Care to explain.”

Tamlin’s eyes were dead. The once green orbs turned grey and he stared at something in front of him, something that did not exist, or perhaps he was trying to see Feyre through Rhysand.

Rhysand walked over to him and put the soul of his boot against his chest.

Then he pressed.

Hard.

The breaking of his ribs rang throughout the air.

“TAMLIN!” Feyre screamed desperately.

“Tell me,” Rhysand ordered Tamlin and shoved his claws in his mind as deep as he could, making him spill out every single detail he knew. “Father heard from a prophet that your parents were going to have a third child and that that child would be born to inherit the title of the next High King of the Prythian, that he would destroy the High Lords and rule by himself. My father decided to stop it.” Tamlin explained while coughing out blood on his green tunic, almost the same green tunic he and the rest of his family wore when they killed his mother and sister.

“Why kill my sister then?”

“She got in the way. She tried to protect your mother.”

“Who killed her?”

A pause.

Rhysand almost split his brain into two halves from the sheer force with which he shoved the mental claws into his mind forcing him to answer, breaking any mental shields Tamlin tried to craft. The High Lord of Spring screamed out in pain as he felt the power that was Deamati. 

“TAMLIN!” Feyre yet again cried out.

“…I did,” Tamlin responded. “I killed her.”

The world paused for Rhysand.

He felt nothing and yet at the same time he felt so much anger and fury he thought he was going to turn into the beast that prowled beneath his skin and rip out Tamlin’s throat with his bare teeth and then make the entire manor collapse. He felt like he didn’t have a body and yet he was all too aware of the heavy chest beneath his boot, of the droplets of sweat sliding down his forehead, of the way all his pores clogged up, and of the breeze that ran over his skin in a soothing manner from the ruin that the door was now. Rhysand didn’t think about anything, yet he thought enough to keep shoving his claws deeper and deeper into Tamlin’s mind. He wasn’t looking for anything anymore, he didn’t care about anything anymore, he just didn’t want to stop ripping Tamlin’s mind apart - he didn’t know how to stop. He didn’t hear anything, yet all that rang in his ears were Tamlin’s screams of pain and Feyre’s pleas-

 “PLEASE!”

At that Rhysand woke up again as if he had been sleeping until that scream. His mental claws stopped digging through Tamlin’s mind and his neck whipped towards her so harshly it was almost painful for him.

Her eyes were red from crying. Her golden-brown hair was a disheveled mess. She kept trying to pull against the shadow that was tied around her wrists with no success. She continued to beg as her sobs decorated every syllable her lips formed.

“Please, please. I beg you.”

Rhysand clicked his fingers and the shadow released her.

Because she was constantly pulling against it without ever succeeding to budge an inch she didn’t expect it to free her and so as it did, she lost balance and almost fell, but she quickly regained her composure and ran over to where Tamlin and Rhysand were. She knelt in front of Tamlin and grabbed his face. “Please, please.” She continued to beg while looking between the two High Lords.

“I understand how you feel. I have a sister too and I’d be the same, but please, I love him. I have no one else, but him anymore, please, please.” Her words were breathless pleas.

Rhysand removed his foot from Tamlin’s chest and walked over to Feyre. He crouched in front of her and gripped her chin with his fingers, forcing her to look only at him and not at Tamlin. “You are such a pretty thing.” He angled his head. “Will you pay for his crimes then?”

“Rhysand, please, she has nothing to do with this, leave her be. Kill me. Finish the job. ” Tamlin coughed out even more blood.

“Oh, shut up!” Rhysand yelled and Tamlin screamed in pain again as he stabbed his mind with his claws.

“Tamlin!” Feyre screamed again, trying to get a look at him, but Rhysand’s grip held superior.

“I asked you a question, darling, will you pay for his crimes?”

“How?” She barely managed to say.

He smiled at her. “Let me take you to the Night Court.”

Her face lost all of its color and she started to shake in fear. Some muffled voice could be heard from Tamlin’s lips, but Rhysand quickly took care of that too, disconnecting his vocal cords from his mind, and now there was only night and silence filling the hall, filling the space between them. Rhysand felt Feyre’s mind run against all possibilities. What the night court was like, could she endure it, could she endure Rhysand, what was he going to do to her, what did paying for Tamlin’s crimes entail? How long was she to stay? It sounded like he meant to take her forever. Why would she save Tamlin’s life if she was to never see him again?

Rhysand chuckled at that.

“That’s fair. How about I keep you until the next Spring is over?”

He liked that she wasn’t willing to sacrifice herself, her entire life, just to keep the fuzzy beast alive.

“That’s eleven months.” She whimpered.

“It’s not even a year, you’ll survive and then afterward you and your murderous prince of Spring can be the happy couple of Spring all you want. What do you say?” He inched her closer to him and she could feel his warm breath upon her lips.

“You promise you won’t kill him afterward?” Feyre looked at him with doe eyes.

“I promise.” He bowed his head - just the tiniest bit.

Tamlin looked like he was trying to say something in protest, but no sound came out of his mouth.

“I have to,” Feyre murmured while looking at Tamlin.

“It’s a deal,” she told Rhysand firmly and there were no sobs or cries or anything sorrowful in her voice, only pure determination.

Rhysand grabbed her hand, the one with the emerald ring. He ran the pad of his thumb against the inside of her palm as black magic appeared around him. In swirling motions it extended and surrounded them both. Feyre yelped in fear as black shadows covered her entire field of vision. Then out of the blackness around them, a black string reached for her palm, the one Rhysand held, and in one soundless explosion of magic, her entire hand was covered in swirling patterns, the same ones that Rhysand’s magic formed previously. At the center of her palm was a cat eye which confused Feyre, but not any more than the fact her whole arm was now tattooed.

“Why? What is this?” Feyre exclaimed while examining her hand.

“It’s customary in my court to depict bargains like that. You should be proud, those are my markings, you will be highly respected in my court for striking a bargain with the High Lord himself.”

Rhysand looked at Tamlin trying to forever imprint the memory of him bloody, disheveled and disgusting in his mind. It truly was a sight to see.

“Go outside the manor, I can’t winnow us out from here.”

Feyre knelt in front of Tamlin and pressed a single kiss against his bloody lips, getting his blood on her own plump lips. “I love you,” she whispered. “I will be back,” she promised. “We’ll be okay,” she hoped. “I love you,” she cried.

Tamlin used the last bit of his strength to hold one of her hands in his weak grasp. “Please.” He begged, for what, Rhysand didn’t know. This was already a lost battle.

Tears streaming down her cheeks, Feyre got up shaking but despite all listened to what Rhysand said and started walking towards the ruined door of the manor, but hesitated on walking outside as she didn’t want to leave Tamlin alone with Rhysand.

Rhysand then knelt in front of Tamlin and got close to his ear. “Death is something you don’t deserve, you don’t deserve to rest, you deserve to suffer and you will suffer as I take everything from you, starting with your little bride.” Rhysand soundlessly chuckled. “Goodbye, Tamlin.”

Feyre cradled her arms to her chest trying to warm up against the cold breeze of the Spring’s night. Rhysand was just behind her.

She felt something drop on her shoulders and as she angled her head to see better she saw Rhysand putting his black jacket over her. “It’s going to be even colder in the Night Court and I wouldn’t like you to catch a cold.” Another playful smirk danced across his face and Feyre did not know how to respond to this gesture. A “thank you” didn’t seem appropriate given their situation.

Feyre looked around them, trying to memorize as much of her home as she could, she wanted to memorize the smell, the position of the stars, the architecture of the manor, the cobblestone path in front of them, the white marble stairs, the green emerald grass that knew no end, the big trees, the song of the birds, the shape of the butterfly wings, the flowers, the bushes of roses which her sister loved so much.

Rhysand reached out for her hand and she let him grab it as he led her down the white marble stairs.

Rhysand looked at the bushes of roses and remembered his promise from earlier. He let his magic come to his fingertips, flexing his hand a little before performing an elegant motion, one that he would act out to dismiss someone usually. 

There was a split second where nothing happened and all that could be heard was the wind as it danced around the leaves of the nearby woods, but then the bushes closest to Rhysand went completely black from their root to the top of their roses.

In an instant, bush by bush, all of them became the same dark color of the night. Rhysand then flicked his fingers causing all of the petals to fall off and as the occasional wind flew by, the pitch-black petals danced across the sky.

‘Finally, an adequate scene for the High Lord of the Night Court.’ He congratulated himself.

“Did you have to do that?” Feyre rolled her eyes. “My sister was quite fond of them.”

“Yes.” He simply responded.

Rhysand put one of his arms under her knees and the other on the lower back and prompted her up into his arms. Feyre yelped at the sudden movement and Rhysand’s only response was one of his corners of his lips rising upwards. “Hold on.” 

And he winnowed them out.

It was beautiful. Feyre remarked as she looked around the hall that had no windows, but also no walls, there were only towering pillars and beautiful gossamer curtains which swayed in the jasmine-scented breeze.

“Welcome to my court, Feyre Archeron, bride of Spring,” Rhysand said with open arms as if he was introducing a new friend to his home and not the female whose fiancé he almost brutally murdered. “I hope you’ll find it more pleasurable than the Spring.”

Deciding not to waste her time and ask about the worry that has been poisoning her mind since he mentioned taking her to the Night Court, Feyre spoke up.

“I need you to get me contraceptive tea.”

Rhysand’s hands dropped and he angled his head in confusion. “Huh? But I haven’t even bedded you, darling.”

“It’s not for you, me and Tamlin have been trying for a child and I don’t want to take chances and end up pregnant now. I just need it for one day."

Some light danced in his eyes.

“Oh, but wouldn’t that be interesting, for you to get pregnant and give birth to the High Lord’s heir under my roof and for Tamlin not to be able to see his child immediately? Think about how he’ll rage when he realizes the first male his child saw was me.” The last word left his lips in the shape of a purr.

“Please,” Feyre begged.

“How about,” Rhysand walked closer to her, closer and closer until his breath was upon her ear. “a no.”

[lgczoe]

♥︎ ╱ 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝟎𝟏𝟕 ⤿ 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒔𝒌𝒚 𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈... ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀♥︎

Zoe sashayed into the rehearsal room, her confidence was as bold as ever. It was the first week of gearing up for NOSTALGIA, and she was determined to master Secret's iconic hit, "Starlight Moonlight." The song's melody filled the air, stirring up memories of late nights spent practicing every intricate detail of the choreography.

With her fellow junior female trainees by her side, Zoe wasted no time diving into the routine. Her movements were whimsical but precise, each step a testament to the countless hours she had poured into perfecting the song. She liked to command attention as the beats pulsated through the room, each dance move bubbly, sweet, and sassy.

But there was more to Zoe's performance than just natural talent. Deep within her memories lay the image of herself, bathed in the glow of her bedroom lamp, tirelessly rehearsing a particularly challenging section of the choreography. She had stayed up until the early hours of the morning, determined to conquer every step, every note, every hair flip.

Now, as she danced alongside her trainee companions, Zoe couldn't help but feel a surge of pride. She had pushed herself to the limit, sacrificing sleep in pursuit of perfection. And as she executed each move flawlessly, she knew her hard work had paid off.

With a playful flick of her hair and a mischievous grin, Zoe continued to slay the routine with effortless grace. Her vocals soared, geared by the adrenaline and determination of being alongside her team.

Once the week progressed, Zoe's confidence only grew stronger. She thrived on the camaraderie of her fellow trainees, channeling their collective energy into a performance that was nothing short of spectacular.

By the end of the week, Zoe was on fire. With memories of her late-night rehearsals fueling her every move, she knew they were destined to steal the show with their performance of "Starlight Moonlight" on NOSTALGIA. And as she strutted out of the rehearsal room, she couldn't wait to take the stage and show the world just what she was made of.

[karpkorner]

▲ Isn't this a bit much, Karp? She's being a very good girl for you, but at this rate she might just pass out from how often you're making her cum!

"Hey... Who said we were done, Aria? You've still cum so much without my permission you know. We're just gonna keep going until you can hold it back. I might just have to punish you at this rate, Starlight. ♥"

Maybe so, but, a cute Aria like that is gonna awaken a bit of a sadistic streak in her, you know? Hopefully the poor thing can hold out.