#the past will always frustrate me with its permanence | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

eevees-hobbies · 8 months ago

Note

Hello! 1. your writing is AMAZING and 2. Sorry for this long request.

Can I request experienced!Reader x virgin!Sakura smut (or you can make it that he doesn't have that much experience as the reader). Sakura and the reader have always done things like heavy makeout sessions and him receiving bjs. He starts to feel bad because he hasn't eaten her out yet and he doesn't want to disappoint her, she always tells him to take things at his pace and that she will always be there for him when he's ready to take things further. So he asks the guys for advice on how to eat her out and then during movie date night at her place he's acting more flustered/nervous than usual and she notices. He then confesses that he wants her to feel pleasure to and that the reason why he hasn't done it yet is because he doesn't want to disappoint her but he wants to try and eat her out. You can have them go all the way after or just leave it at that. I'll be happy either way😊😊. Thank you in advance!!!

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for your kind words! This was fun to write and I hope you enjoy this. I’ll always enjoy writing for Haru, so this request was very much appreciated.

Synopsis: Sakura loves the fuck out of you, so maybe that’s why he’s asking his friend, Hayato Suo, to help him get better at initiating oral sex. Totally normal things happen to an orange, but it’s all worth it in the end, right?

Content Warning: experienced!FemReader x inexperienced!Sakura. defiling of fruit, sexual education in a public place, pray (and perform a wellness check) for Suo’s girlfriend, dirty talk, insecure Sakura, harmless teasing, use of pet name baby girl, cocky Sakura makes an appearance at the end (because I can’t help myself), I curse a lot in my writing, cunnilingus, fingering, brief p in v. I’m on my usual bullshit, but at least the writers block is gone! Minors Do Not Interact.

Word Count: 3.1K

Story banner by me. Dividers by Firefly Graphics. As always, likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated!

“The first time we held hands, I thought my head would explode.”

“I see. Go on…”

“The first time we made out, I….” Sakura looks away, a crimson blush making its way past the collar of his white tee and up his neck. “I could hear my heart beating in my ears or somethin’ cliche like that.”

Suo couldn’t help but feel the corner of his mouth twitch upward at his inexperienced friend’s confession. Still, he knew better than to poke at Sakura. He was attempting to be supportive, and supportive friends don’t tease their friends during bouts of insecurity—much. When Suo had received a text message from Sakura the night before indicating that he had an urgent request, he knew he had to temper his usual faux-cheerful demeanor and provide his friend with whatever he needed.

But he wasn’t expecting this conversation.

Sakura shifts uncomfortably in the booth across from Hayato, his eyes now darting down to his knuckles, which always seem permanently purple and red with bruises and fresh knicks. “And the first time she….you know…”

Suo’s eyebrow quirks up, expecting Sakura to elaborate further, but he doesn’t. To prompt Sakura to continue, Suo clears his throat and carefully navigates the next sentence, “I don’t really know what you mean, Sakura. Care to be a bit more specific?”

Sakura lets out a frustrated scoff, but he knows that if he wants Suo to help him, he’s going to need to give him details—details that he had fully intended to always go to the grave with.

“The first time she gave me head…”

The cup of tea that Suo was bringing up to his lips shakes ever so slightly, but he offers a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes and provides a supportive nod.

“Oh?”

Sakura sighs, figuring it’s too late to hold back now; he dives into the issue, ready to be judged at best, and laughed out of the restaurant at worst. “The first time she gave me head, I swear to fuckin’ god, if there is a god, I fell in love. But she’s always….doing stuff to me, and I haven’t done much for her.”

Suo nods, places his cup of tea down, and looks thoughtfully at his friend. “Sounds like you’d like to return her…kind gestures.”

Sakura runs a hand through his hair and nods, “Yeah, that’s it. I want to do stuff to her instead of her doing stuff to me, but I don’t know how to-”

“Initiate?”

“Sure.”

The silence that settles between the two is deafening. Sakura shifts uncomfortably in his seat, and Suo can’t help but look at his friend with sympathetic eyes. Usually, he’s the first one to tease Sakura, especially involving his relationship with you, but this feels different. Suo’s eyes wandered to an orange currently serving as a garnish on the small plate of untouched Omi Rice Sakura had ordered. “May I?’

Sakura shrugs, unsure what he plans to do with a piece of fruit. Doesn’t he see that he’s in crisis and Vitamin C can wait?

Suo grabs a knife and cuts the citrus down the middle, exposing the soft center. Discarding one half, he holds up the other to curious, dual-colored eyes. “Do we need to go over the basics of female anatomy? Like the labia and clitoris?”

Sakura sputters as he hears his friend say words he’s only heard you—his girlfriend—say. His eyes dart to the nearest escape route, but Suo's firm kick under the table brings his attention back to the scene in front of him. Sakura looks away in frustration and gives a curt nod, indicating that, at the very least, he could point to certain parts of your body and identify them.

He wasn’t THAT far gone.

Suo nods, “Well, I’d say the battle is half-won, then. Let’s talk about what women like, shall we?”

Suo brings a finger up to the center of the orange where the small opening glistens with droplets of juice that are now dripping languidly down his fingers. The scene before Sakura is practically obscene, and the irony of Suo using fruit for his sexual education lesson that looks similar to your intimate area does not fly over his head, even though he wishes it did.

As Suo points to the plump center, his finger gently strokes the small hole. “Some people immediately think it’s a good idea to force their fingers in with little thought to foreplay, but that’s crude, hostile, and not the trait of a good partner. In fact, bullying your fingers in could very well hurt her, so I personally like to take a few hours to get my girlfriend aroused.”

Hours?! Sakura doesn’t think he can come near being the type of libido-beast that Suo is. He briefly gives a silent prayer for his friend's partner but leans in nonetheless to listen intently.

“Now, the tip of your tongue can be rather overstimulating at first, so remember that the clitoris deserves to be kissed, too. Your lips are your ally.”

Sakura swallows thickly as he tunes in and watches his friend defile an orange in Cafe Pothos. As his cheeks burn, his fingers twitch, and his cock hardens as Suo goes into great detail about how much pressure the clitoris can take. Sakura can’t help but think that he must be absolutely, horrendously down bad for you to deal with this shit.

“I can’t BELIEVE she was Lady Whistledown this entire time!”

You reach for the remote to select the next episode of Bridgerton, but a lack of response from Sakura, who is sitting on the couch next to you, causes you to look over. You can sense that what you just said didn’t register because he seems lost in thought, his thumb placed between his upper and lower canines as he chews on the skin aggressively.

“Kitten?” You turn your entire body to face him, worry already etching across your face.

His eyes look up at you, and the faraway look quickly dissipates as he gives you a grunt.

“You’ve been distracted all night. Should we head to bed, or can we talk about it?” You offer him a gentle smile, hoping the bond you share will be stronger than any secret he may be keeping from you. You watch as he visibly swallows, his adam’s able bobbing as he turns to you, and he lowers his now mangled thumb to rest in his lap. The way he avoids eye contact, the way the air now feels somewhat stale with unspoken words, has your breathing slowing and you preparing to hear the worst.

“Let me…eat you out.”

You blink once, twice, and then several more times as you stare at each other. You place a gentle hand on his knee, and your confused eyes meet his vulnerable ones. “Sakura, what the absolute fuck?”

He rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest. You can see a pout practically form on his lips as he fights the urge to end the conversation. But Sakura is a man on a mission, and he continues. You have to lean in to hear what he mumbles but as his mouth moves, you realize you heard him clearly the first time. “You give me head almost every day. I’m tired of not reciprocating.”

Everyday, Sakura? Let’s be real. Sure, you like giving your boyfriend head but your jaw isn’t permanently attached to his cock. You give him a blank stare before responding and trying to keep your voice light and without a hint of sarcasm–and god, you REALLY want to be sarcastic right now but you’re a good girlfriend.

“Sakura, our relationship isnt about keeping score, especially in regards to our intimacy. I don’t count how many blowjobs I give you,” you pause as you realize you just spoke a lie. “Well, maybe I do count, but only because I have an ego, and I’m trying to beat a number I set in my head.”

Sakura’s eyes squint and he holds back the urge to ask further questions about your perverted personal goals. “That’s so weird. Anyway, it isn’t about any of that. I want to do it. I think about doing it a lot.”

You tilt your head to the side, your ear facing him a bit more because did your boyfriend, the one who was emotionally stunted when you met him, admit to fantasizing about you? “You think about eating me out? Say more, please.”

“Fuuuuuck, why are you so-. Fine! I think about it when you’re on the couch with your legs spread–I mean, sure, it isn’t lady-like–but it’s hot and I think about just getting on my knees and…”

“I might pop you for the lady-like comment but I’ll refrain because you made me tingle.”

“Shut up and…spread your legs.”

You purse your lips, stifling a giddy giggle at your boyfriend using his stern voice. You shimmy out of your sleep shorts and throw them haphazardly to a corner to be forgotten about until who-knows-when.

Putting on a brave front, and as though he’s done this many times before, Sakura rises from the couch and perches himself between your legs with his knees firmly placed on the plush rug on the floor.

You bite your lip—his gaze is unyielding and smoldering. You aren’t surprised at how hot your face is getting under his stare; it’s almost enough to make you clamp your legs shut and call the whole thing off, but you couldn’t if you wanted to as his hands, which are placed firmly against your inner thighs, grip you like you’re being held open in stirrups.

“It's nothing like an orange…”

“A what!?”

Before you can say anything and before you can back out, Sakura is leaning forward, his breath is hot and fanning against your labia. For some reason, you need to look anywhere but at the top of his head as his tongue slips past your folds and swirls small circles around your clit. His hesitancy is palpable, making you a bit insecure until he pulls back, an earnest but determined look in his eyes, “Am I doing ok? Does this feel…right? I’m trying to imagine an orange, but it’s completely different.”

Weird recurring comments about oranges aside, you realize he’s not hesitant because of you. He’s hesitant because he’s worried that he isn’t doing a good job. He’s hesitant because, above all else, Haruka will always desire to impress and please you, and anything less is unacceptable to him. His inexperience has always been a non-issue for you, but to him, it’s a crutch and another way he feels like he doesn’t deserve you.

Your gaze softens and you give him an encouraging smile. “You’re doing amazing, Kitten.”

The corner of his mouth twitches upward and with a dignified nod, he dives back between your thighs. Your praise fuels his desire to please you—and that fire burns bright, and the cautious licks before are replaced with suckles and tongue swipes that are far more confident.

Your head falls back to rest against the cushiony headrest of the couch. Your hand finds the back of his head and pushes him in further, encouraging him to get lost in you and risk drowning. Sakura doesn’t mind the threat of suffocation as he considers it a worthy way to go. Still, he thinks you’re getting a little too cocky, and humbling you is his favorite pastime, so the gesture earns a playful nip to your thigh from Haruka, which in turn makes you giggle.

“Can’t you be serious for once? I’m trying to eat you out down here.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, Kitten.” Despite your snarky come-back, you give him an encouraging moan that’s brought upon by open-mouthed kisses against your clit. Sakura willingly entwines his long fingers with yours, his thumb tenderly stroking the inside of your palm.

His other hands grips the plush of one of your thighs and pushes them forward, pressing them against your stomach and allowing himself the unbridled access he craves to get as deep as his tongue will reach. His licks become far more aggressive as he takes the time to map out your cunt through eager exploration. He commits every one of your sinful moans and gasps to his memory and revels in the way in which you get increasingly louder for him.

Each one of your cries makes his cock twitch, and he finds himself having to adjust himself in his jeans. The scent of you, the sound of you, is simply intoxicating. You, to Haruka Sakura, are everything and then some. Your pleasure is his pleasure and he’s going to take that fact out on your cunt which is growing increasingly more sloppy just for him.

Something that felt intimidating only hours ago now feels natural to Sakura as he drags his tongue across your clit, smirking as he feels it swell and twitch under the assault of his muscle.

“You’re dripping for me. We might need a new couch after I’m done with you.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes because fuck, why is he so-oh! Yeah, that’s the spot. You nod in agreement as you spread your legs wider to give him better access. “Y-yeah, a trip to IKEA is definitely in the future, I think.” Without little to no warning, he pushes two fingers into you so deeply that his knuckles kiss your entrance. Haruka’s fingers curl, and the sound of him twisting them inside you makes a lewd, wet sound, the kind that would make anyone blush.

The pads of his fingers rub against the bundle of nerves deep within your aching sex. Sakura lets out a satisfied grunt as he strokes the spongy bundle of ridges. He doesn’t need an orange to see that this is what you like, all he needs to do is look down at the way your toes curl or watch as your eyes roll back and you bite into the plush of your bottom lip.

“Holy fuckin’…just relax for me. Don’t act like we haven’t been here before, at least.”

You let out a pathetic whimper, the sensation of being filled up almost threatening to push you over the edge, and he fucking knows it. He’s doing this on purpose, stroking you like this, making you more sensitive than you already are as you drip into the palm of his hand.

You look down to give him a glare, but you can’t help the squeak that leaves your lips—his intense gaze is set on you and threatening to light you ablaze. He stands up so that he’s kneeling over you, his face mere inches from yours, as he continues to push and pull his fingers in and out of your fluttering sex.

“Look at you….a fuckin’ mess. Look me in my eyes while you use my fingers to get off.” His eyes are scanning your face in predatory reverence, they flicker down to your lips as you let out a low guttural moan. “That’s it, baby girl. Cum for me.”

Your heart palpitates dangerously as he uses a pet name that feels so intimate you want to melt into the couch. Your bottom lip quivers as you begin to buck your hips to meet the motion of his fingers, but it’s hard to keep up when he’s finger fucking you like he owns every inch of your cunt.

“Tch, what are you trying to prove by holding out?” His lips ghost against the sensitive skin of your earlobe, his tongue darting out to lick and suckle at the sensitive flesh.

“You’re practically milking my fingers right now. You like every single inch that I give you, don’t you? You get so hungry for just a touch.” His voice is husky, his words only making you ache and arch more as the cocky, ex-Bofurin leader goads you on.

His mouth finds its way to the curve of your neck as he presses his lips against your quickened pulse. The proximity and gesture feels tender until you feel his teeth sinking into your skin, sending a delicious, searing pain shooting through your very being. “Cum like a good girl so I can bend you over this fuckin’ couch.” His voice is hoarse and coursing with his desire for you, and he’s not asking you to let go for him, he’s demanding it.

Your face, despite being contorted into pleasure, heats up because who the fuck talks like that?

Haruka Sakura does.

You groan, pressing the palm of your hand against the nape of his neck and pull him forward so you can give him the physical and verbal praise he seeks–your moans fill his mouth and your hips grind against his hand to roll out your orgasm in desperation. He eagerly presses his palm against your clit, adding more pressure to the sensitive bud that takes your breath away as he continues his curling, pushing, and pulling of his fingers.

You let out a final moan into his mouth and the smirk that forms on his lips as they press against yours does not go unnoticed. You haven’t realized it, or maybe you have, but at that moment, you created a monster. He now knows you better than he ever did and will use it against you every chance he can. He may be unable to commit to hours of foreplay, but he can guarantee that every second in which he’ll have you spread open for him will have you looking at him exactly as you’re looking at him right now. He’s committed to your pleasure moving forward and makes absolutely no apologies for it.

“Theeeeere she goes. Now was that so hard?” Your half-lidded gaze meets his arrogant and pleased one as he pulls away, his hands already moving to unbutton his jeans. “Guess I’ll start to keep a number in my head to beat now, too.”

You don’t have time to react before he’s turning you around and positioning so that you're offering yourself up to him and he’s adjusting himself between your spread legs.

And Sakura is truly pleased with himself as he places a hand on your lower back to steady you as he slides into your welcoming warmth. His eyes roll back because you fit him sooooo fucking well. Like a goddamn glove, and fuck, you feel even better with his saliva dripping out of you.

Who the fuck needs store-bought lubricant when you could just produce your own with spit? Moving forward, Sakura fully intends to put Astroglide out of business.

As the loud squelches and airy sounds of his cock spreading you in half fills the air, Sakura reflects on how he got here.

He can’t help but give a mental thanks to the orange that made this all possible–and he guesses, also Suo, but mostly the orange.

#wind breaker #windbreaker smut #anon ask #anon #request fill #sakura haruka x reader #haruka sakura #sakura x reader #sakura smut #sakura hakura #request

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a-dauntless-daffodil · 9 months ago

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The meta text of Vaggie hating when people don't use her name or try calling her by another one THEY think she should use, bc they think her name is too vulgar or demeaning or too silly not to joke about -> and then parts of the fandom doing the same thing, is honestly really hitting home in a queer way

here's a character who we know wants people to use her chosen name.

we know she does because she corrects Adam to his face "Actually, it's pronounced Vaggie" drawing a hard line of NO between the old name he gave her with that soft G and the one her girlfriend uses for her now

her exasperation even during the battle, answering Pentious's call out of Vaggatha but still also tiredly pointing out "Not my name", and

ironically. The second miss-naming hurts me more than the first

the Adam thing makes me hate the guy on a personal level, with his stupid smug little "Hmmmmmm- no. Anyway-" saying Vaggie isn't ALLOWED to name herself something new as if he has any claim over her, as if her name has anything to do with him after he abandoned her

But the Pentious thing almost hurts worse for how well meant and casual it is. How familiar that is.

Here it's coming from a friend and the misnaming is a sign of affection from him, a show of respect. He's not calling her the purple female anymore. This is Pentious and his tick of getting polite and formal when addressing people he likes, him snapping his earnest salutes, him as we saw earlier that episode with his shy "Miss Bomb" towards Cherri.

And the way Vaggie just kinda rolls her eye and takes it from him while still clearly not liking it...

She used to wear a uniform that made her almost identical to the other Exorcists around her, she was given her old name by the man in charge of her, a name based on how useful to him she was, she's still got all that soldier stuff marching through her head making her grab for her spear and leaving her with no idea how to get people to bond other than throwing them bodily into a warzone

It just makes sense that the woman she's in a long term happy relationship with be so normal about her chosen 'vulgar' and 'inappropriate' name

Being together that long means Charlie probably knows this specific frustration her girlfriend has and cares enough about her to just say "Vaggie" like its nothing. Or maybe she just thinks, duh, of course she'll use the name Vaggie tells her to use

Maybe Charlie being that kinda person is part of what Vaggie loves about her in the first place. The amount of trust Charlie places in people, just by default

Because there could be good and bad reasons Vaggie's using a version of her old name after leaving that life behind

She could be doing it to remind herself of the shit person she was and feels she has to still make up for being, it could be tied to her self imposed new life purpose of helping make Charlie's dreams come true, it could be Vaggie keeping part of something she hates (herself) so she can feel a bit of "deserved" pain over it even when she was too scared to admit her past to anyone else- a sneaky way to always be reminded of it by the new people in her new life anyway

but that's her choice. People are allowed to make bad decisions for themselves

there's that ethos of the whole hotel and redemption plan again, Charlie's dreams and ideals swinging back into action even when Charlie maybe doesn't know it

what's the idea of redemption or personal change other than accepting that people CAN make choices for themselves? They can even make shitty ones, and that's not a reason to drop them forever or take the choice away like they don't deserve it anymore

What's the permanent extermination of souls other than saying they forever lost the right to say what happens to themselves?

a gay woman is calling herself after vag while switching out her soldier gear to wear miniskirts and giant as fuck hair bow ribbons while kissing and cuddling her girlfriend. Maybe it's cringe. Maybe it's camp. Even if Vaggie obviously isn't meant to be literally trans, it's that deliberate choice thing again, a kinda switcheroo from Adam naming her Vagina just bc it's something that he likes for how it makes him feel good, to Vaggie saying no this is MY thing now.

The Vagina to Vaggie thing is the difference between putting a name on someone else verses taking it for your own.

and Charlie affirms that choice, that right of Vaggie to be called the name she choses, no matter WHAT it sounds like or how awkward it makes some people feel

like, if someone in real life told you their name was Vaggie, would you use their name for them?

Would you accept feeling a bit weird for their sake?

Or would you do what happens so much in real life, when people who care still think they know better or feel like someone being who they are infringes too much on their own sense of comfort or even on that person's own safety, and with all the good intentions and love in the world, someone hurts someone else without understanding that they're evening doing it.

Like Pentious

Who is really and truly Vaggie's friend. The guy she got off to a rough start with but ends up rooting for, shoving her gf out of the room so he can talk to his own crush in peace. He dies to try protecting his friends, including her, and she misses him when he's gone

and he still thought he was doing a nice thing by calling her the more 'normal' sounding "Vagatha". Either because he assumed Vaggie couldn't really be her full name, or thought she deserved better

Charlie doesn't think Vaggie needs a better name

Charlie says her name all the time like it's her favorite word ever, if only because it belongs to the woman she loves

i feel a lot of things about that.

#hazbin hotel #vaggie #charlie morningstar #chaggie #sir pentious #adam hazbin hotel

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parallelss-of-the-universe · 11 months ago

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Sweets ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Windows and Streetlights

(Credits to @azriel.kk on tikok, my bsf ily gonna give u a sloppy toppy kiss when me meet😋)

Pairing: Soft Yandere Nanami x fem! Bakery owner! Reader

Summary: Nanami just wanted to see what all the popularity about that one bakery in town was. He didn’t know he’d fall so hard for the girl who looks just as sweet as the cakes she bakes.

Tags: Yandere Nanami, Kind of coquette reader, no-filter reader, Kidnapping, Stalking, Obsessive/Toxic Nanami, Manipulation, Stockholm Syndrome, murder.

Wc: 1.4k

Nanami could not stop thinking about you the moment he dropped you off. His mind racing with thoughts of you. The way your eyes look when they shined, the way your smile was so bright. He ran his hands through his hair as he remembered the way your face looked when he wrapped the scarf around your face. He breathed heavily as he made another call.

A week had passed by since Nanami walked you home, and you haven’t seen him since. You felt sad for the most part. Baking cakes to distract yourself, you blocked out the thoughts of him. Proceeding to serve your customers before your thoughts distracted you. For the past week the constant feeling that someone was watching you made you go crazy.

By the third day you bought a pocketknife. You thought of buying pepper spray, but you opted for something more permanent. If someone did attack you a plunge of the knife to their neck would do it. Not some pathetic pepper spray that will only buy you 5 minutes at the least. You also turned on your location on your phone. In case you go missing hopefully the police will be able to track your phone.

Maybe being paranoid wasn’t healthy, but so is being too carefree. Once you served your customers, you went the kitchen and drinking a glass of water. You stood close to a window feeling the fresh air. You suddenly saw something on the corner of your eye, a blur. You leaned your head out the window seeing no one. You swore there was someone there.

Opening the backdoor, you walked outside threading carefully. Hearing a scratching noise your ear perked up. Going closer, your heartbeat pounding, you turned to the corner. You froze up, a sigh chuckle leaving your lips. There stood a small tabby cat. You walked closer petting its head smiling.

Suddenly hearing a click behind you, your head immediately looked behind. No one. You looked around anxiously. Giving the cat one last rub on its head, you went inside. The day continued serving customers and baking the sweets.

Your employees left, leaving you to lock the doors of the bakery like always. You wrapped the scarf that Nanami gave you around your neck. It really was comfortable, in your defense. You let out a sigh, why is the weather so cold? The hairs on your neck stood up as you heard another ‘click’. Looking behind you, you again saw no one. You stood in that street just looking around.

You sighed, frustrated. “Do you mind?!” You shout to the empty street, to no one. Maybe you really were going crazy. At that moment you didn’t know what came over you. Opening your phone you proceeded to text Nanami. It was stupid to think he’d text first, so you’re the one doing it. A week late. ‘Nanami! How are you?’ you texted, putting your phone back in your pocket.

As you texted him you continued to do it while walking. You thought of wearing headphones, but it was too risky. Not hearing anything around you. It’s practically screaming Netflix murder documentary. Your phone vibrated, a notification. You opened your phone looking at the notification. A reply from Nanami, ‘Good. You?’ you chuckled at the dry ass reply.

‘Hey Nanami, Can I call you?’ you asked the feeling that someone is still watching you getting stronger. You arrived at your house locking the doors and the windows. You bit your lip as you felt your phone vibrate again. You look at your phone knowing it’s Nanami, ‘Ok.’ Was his only reply to you.

Man, are you sure he’s really twenty-eight? He types like a boomer. You proceeded to press the call icon leaning the phone against your ear. “Nanami?” you said softly. “I’m here.” A deep voice replied. You laughed, “I’m mad at you.” you say. He hummed, “Is that why you called?” he replied. You chuckled, “You basically ghosted me, you know?” you say biting your lip anxiously.

“I’m sorry.” He replied quickly. “Make it up to me.” You say straightforwardly. “I’ll come by tomorrow.” Nanami replied to you his voice surprisingly soft. You hummed in acknowledgement.

Nanami sat on his office chair, phone against his ear. Your soft voice playing through the speakers of the phone. He ran his hands through his hair, he didn’t mean to ghost you. He was thinking of you every day! You haven’t left his mind for the past week. He touched the piles of papers on his desk drinking his whiskey.

Almost hundreds of pictures of you lay on his desk. Pictures of you walking to work, pictures of you baking cakes; pictures of you talking with your employees. The last phone call he made, he asked for a favor. A favor to know your background. From where you’re from to who your parents are. From your friends to your old school.

For the past weeks Nanami has been following you. Taking pictures of your daily life. You smiling, you looking sad, you looking tired. He has photographs of all of it. He sighs rubbing his hand on his forehead. You were like drugs to him. Like cigarettes, you can always say you’ll quit but can’t get enough.

‘I’m mad at you’ the moment you said that he perked up. Brows furrowed in confusion, The moment you told him why he groaned quietly. You liked him so much that you’re mad at him. He looked at a picture of you on his desk, rubbing the forehead of a cat. You looked so sweet.

‘I’ll come by tomorrow’ he replied planning to pick you up at your house. His eyes went over to the picture of you continuing to wear your scarf, the scarf that he gave you. His blood rushed somewhere else, making the bulge in his pants visible. He groaned standing up and going to the shower.

You woke up groaning. Fighting yourself to either stand up or go back to sleep, which you know you can’t do. You got up cursing yourself for having a sense of responsibility. You proceeded to get ready, drinking a cup of coffee and just planning to buy breakfast outside. You weren’t gonna get a piece of toast and just run out the door like those Disney movie characters.

Not having breakfast is practically driving with no gas. You left the door locking It, no Nanami scarf for today, it was getting washed. You look behind you surprised; it was Nanami. You rubbed your eyes tiredly thinking you’re seeing things. “Nanami?” you called out voice still groggy.

He looks at you glasses off his eyebags visible. He was wearing a blue polo and his yellow polka dot tie. You smiled at him happy to see him. “C’mon I’ll buy you breakfast.” He said waiting for you. Weird how he knew you didn’t eat breakfast yet. And how he knew what time you leave your house. Do you run and ignore the red flags or let the hot dilf looking man buy you breakfast?

You shrugged going over to him. Second option it is! “Where are we going?” you ask following him. “I know this cafe that sells good breakfasts.” He replied looking at you. You nod smiling at him. “Are you also gonna buy coffee?” you ask walking beside him. If people looked at the both of you side by side, they would see the plain height difference. ‘God is he tall, I wonder if something else is tall-‘ you shake your head aggressively.

Nanami looks at you eyebrows raised. You both arrive at the café sitting down at a booth near the window. The waiter gives you both the menu smiling at you, which didn’t go by unnoticed by Nanami. Nanami’s lips pursed into a thin line watching that interaction. You continued to look at the menu before sighing, “Nanami, pick for me.” You say giving him the menu.

He looked at your smiling face, his annoyance immediately leaving. He has to take sooner or later. Away from all of these filthy curse giving people. “You look nice today” he says giving you a small smile. “Are you saying I only look nice today?” You teased.

He chuckled to himself saying your order to the waiter, who was still looking at you. “Hey Nanami…can I tell you something?” you say looking at him. He nods listening, “I feel like I’m going crazy. There’s always this feeling that someone is watching or following me.” You say looking at him anxiously.

Nanami looked at you for a few seconds before answering, “I should walk you to work, and going back to your house.” He says sternly. You sigh in relief. “I’m sorry for saying this so early in the morning.” You say looking at him sadly.

He held your hand, running his fingers through it. “I’ll keep you safe”

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r2d2lover · 2 years ago

Text

Cruel Reality

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x f!Reader (Third person insert, Draco's POV)

Rating: E

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Semi-Public Sex, Unprotected Sex, Jealousy Sex, Fingering, Blowjobs, Draco's POV

Summary:

After a messy breakup, Draco still can't get his mind off of her.

Snippet of something that I'd like to turn into a fic one day but I always say that. Crossposted on Ao3!

Draco walked quickly down the corridor, the heat burning in his cheeks becoming unbearable. He couldn’t even hide his frustrated sighs and ran an aggressive hand through his hair. It wasn’t hard to ignore her desperate pleas calling out for Draco to stop. In fact, it made him walk faster, almost to the point of a run. He felt ridiculous for fleeing the dungeon halls and throwing a tantrum, but he felt justified. But at the same time, he knew he really wasn’t. He was the one who broke up with her. He was the one that had to make her hate him. He was the one that decided to be nosy and walk up the stairs to check on the other prefect sectors.

It was a day shy of it being a month since Draco had broken up with his girlfriend, but the time didn’t make the pain pass. He didn’t have the mental capacity to be mad at the forcing hand of his mother in the situation or the festering wound that was the Dark Mark. No, he was more upset that he walked in on his ex-girlfriend and Harry Potter, of all people, practically having sex in the shadows of the castle. Maybe Draco was exaggerating, but its not like he stuck around to figure out why Harry Potter had his ex pinned to the wall with a visible hand running up her sides. Draco couldn’t believe that this was what was getting him worked up. Not the still burning pain in his arm or the insomnia that left him with a permanent headache. He was pretty sure she was only running after him to try and save face. He almost laughed at the idea of her begging him not to report her and Potter that he almost stopped in the middle of the hall to let it happen. Draco didn’t regret his earlier comment about Potter’s sleaziness, but he really didn’t want to try to talk to her because he was sure that he would have an embarrassing breakdown.

Draco decided that he would hide in the bathroom until she gave up and leave when she’d realize that he wasn’t actually going to go to Snape or Filch to report the two. Unfortunately, she had caught up to him right before he reached the bathroom and grabbed his arm to stop him from opening the door, causing him to cringe in an impossible pain from the pressure she was putting on the Mark. Instead of crying out like he wanted to do, he tried his best to suppress a hiss and yank his arm away.

“Are you going to follow me into the toilet?” Draco instinctively brought his arm across his chest in an attempt to nurse the pain. He felt a little bad for the tone of voice that slipped out of his mouth from the pain, but it fit the image he was going for.

“If that’s what it’ll take for you to listen to me,” She said exasperatedly, looking rightfully concerned at his arm. “Is your arm alr-“

“Look, I’m not going to report you and your… new boyfriend if that’s what you’re worried about,” Draco said as coolly as possible. “Not worth my time.”

“I-“

“But really? Potter? Really lowering your standards, huh?” Draco jabbed, hoping it would do the trick in getting her to leave. She just let out a frustrated cry and pushed Draco up against the wall, shocking him so much that it made him forget about the pain in his arm.

“That’s the only thing you have to say to me? Do you get off on humiliating me? First the Great Hall, now this? If you hate me as much as you told everyone that you do, why can’t you just leave me alone?” She shot back, obviously spewing something she was keeping bottled up for the past month. Draco felt vulnerable, quite literally backed into a corner. He let her puff a bit before pushing off her and pinning her against the wall instead. Her unpleased look reminded Draco of a ruffled cat, making it difficult for him to really be upset.

“Listen, princess,” Draco dropped his voice tauntingly, trying to lock unwavering eye contact. “Don’t get mad at me if you’re dumb enough to decide to shag in the hallways. With Potter, no less.”

“Don’t get mad at situations that you misunderstood,” She saw through Draco’s failed attempt to keep his jealousy at bay. Before he realized how pathetic he probably sounded, he found the warm, artificial taste of strawberries that he had been craving for the past month upon his lips. He wasn’t even sure who made the first move as he tightened a surprised hand around her hair, pulling her in for a deeper kiss like he was starving and going in for another bite of food. Her hands were already interlocked behind his neck, melting his body into hers from the electric feeling running through his veins. Draco’s blind rage was gone, instead replaced by a shameless desperation for more of her. Every plight from the past month dissipated with each kiss he took without breath. In this moment, he didn’t feel guilty for lying to her when they broke up, he didn’t feel any of the familial pressure that plagued his sleep, nor could he even think about why he was angry at her in the first place.

When she broke the kiss, Draco was temporarily snapped back to the reality where she was supposed to hate him and vice versa. They locked eye contact and without another word, Draco decided to indulge his delusion and quickly pushed her into the boy’s bathroom, muttering a locking spell under his breath. Draco didn’t think that the unspoken agreement would actually pan out, but this time, she definitely made the first move by jumping back into his arms for another kiss that rivaled the one that they just shared in the hallway. He ran his hand through her hair, savoring the missed touch. He slowly moved his hand down to her button down, dragging his fingers over the top few buttons. To his surprise, he freed her breasts easily without the need to discard any extra fabric. Curious, he moved his hand down to the hem of her skirt, brushing it to investigate if she had forgone all of her undergarments. He proved his theory right and realized what it meant.

“I can’t believe you,” He said breathlessly, moving his lips down to her neck and moving his hand around to cup her ass. “There’s nothing that he could have done to deserve all of this.”

“Stop talking about him,” She pleaded, the desperation in her voice matched by her blind tugging at his belt buckle. Draco should’ve been mad but this empowered him. He smirked at the idea of his longtime enemy slinking back to his room sadly or even better, fruitlessly waiting for her return at the entrance of her common room. Draco dragged a teasing finger over her slit and the growing tent in his pants was almost painful when he realized how wet she was.

“Now, who got you this worked up?” Draco whispered tauntingly, planting another kiss at the nape of her neck.

“Y-You. Ah. You, Draco,” She slurred as Draco inserted a finger. He pressed her against the wall for better support. Her head rocked forward to his chest as her knees started to buckle into his touch. She was pushing him past insanity. He let out a tsk, straightening her back up against the wall to look at him. Draco let out a hiss when she reached around his arm to firmly squeeze his bulge, relieving some of the pressure building in his pants but he couldn’t let it distract him. He added another finger, beginning to fuck her with unrelenting speed as she drew out an incoherent string of his name over and over. For Draco, this was music. He met her mouth again, moving his thumb over his clit. Draco smiled into her lips as she was unable to return the kisses due to her moaning. He felt the familiar feel of her walls starting to clench around his fingers and her breathing quickened to a pant. Draco pressed his forehead against hers, watching her reaction as he removed his fingers to bring her to the same edge of delirium that he was standing on.

“Draco… Please… I’m so close. I was so close,” She cursed, begging unashamedly. Reality was truly suspended at this moment. Their dynamic remained that same as if they were still dating, as if the last month didn’t happen.

“Be a good girl and you will,” Draco bit his lip as he stared into her look of desperation. He took a small step back and started to undo his belt while she dropped to her knees without instruction and took over. When she set the first lick up his shaft, he barely caught himself on the wall behind her from the surge of lust that almost made him crumble. He tangled his hands in her hair, brushing any pieces away from the front of her face. She let him guide her around him, fighting to keep his composure. “Just… Just like that.”

Draco’s voice was husky from bewilderment. When he hit the back of her throat, he swore he could’ve finished at that moment. He let out a low groan, pulling at her hair. She wasn’t on him for long, but he was afraid of finishing too early. Draco pushed her off softly, rolling his eyes back into his head when she removed her mouth with a pop. He used the grip on her hair to encourage her to stand up, pressing her back firmly against the wall. He removed his hand from her hair and used the same arm to hook underneath her leg, pulling her closer and taking a moment to take a deep breath of her comforting perfume. He used his free hand to undo another button off her top, sliding a wandering hand to her breasts. A soft chorus of “please, Draco” fell from her lips, despite knowing it was best not to beg. She was lucky that he was as impatient as he was. In a swift movement, he slid himself in her slickness, sharing a moan of relief with her.

Draco let her stay seated for a moment, dizzy from the pleasure and wanting to savor this moment. A quick thought flashed thorough his head that as soon as they were finished, they’d go back to being a burnt-out flame. The worrying thought began to clash with the high of the moment, so he removed his hand from her breast to create a backstop between her head and the stone wall. His first few thrusts created an awkward rhythm that he was trying to build up in order to prolong the moment. Nevertheless, she threw her head forward into the crook of his neck mumbling his name and leaving sloppy kisses where ever she could. He pulled her head back to look at him, drinking in her sinful look of matched pleasure that manifested in drooped eyelids and a cute flush across her cheeks. She reached up and kissed him again, encouraging him to pick up the pace. The messy sounds of skin on skin along her almost melodic moaning created a rhythm that Draco tried to keep up.

“Draco… I’m. so close. Can I- ah! Can I please cum?” Her sweet request was too good to deny. He moved his hand again, this time to draw close, tight circles around her clit and she threw her head back in a wail, sliding down the wall. She pushed her pelvis as close as she practically can, letting out the same hungry pleas from before.

“Cum for me,” Draco crooned, smiling at the formality that she had allowed him and watched hungrily as her eyes rolled with her release. She clenched impossibly tight around him, and he had forgotten how the feeling of her warmth only got better as she finished around him. He teetered on the edge of his own orgasm and she knew that. She lazily leaned her head forward, whispering into his ear.

“Only you fuck me this good,” She drew out. Her filthy words were just what Draco needed and the delirium set in.

“Can I cum in you?” Draco practically begged, his voice just above a whimper. When she breathed out a shaky “yes,” Draco fell in one last thrust before holding her as close as he could and let out a final groan. He wish he could’ve prolonged the high of spilling into her, especially since she was peppering sloppy kissed all over his jaw and cheek. He pulled out and took another deep look into her eyes, matching her heavy breathing.

Draco helped her clean up and as he was redoing his belt and she was buttoning up her shirt back with the same flush splashed across her cheek, reality came crashing down. He choked down a cough, unable to find anything to say to her. He didn’t know how to answer a “what are we” question if she asked. Instead, her reached out again to cup her face, running a thumb over the apple of her cheek. He managed to form a quick sentence, forgoing any fear of how pathetic he could sound.

“I’m sorry.”

#draco malfoy x reader #Draco Malfoy smut #Draco Malfoy fic #Draco Malfoy #jealous Draco #harry potter #Harry Potter fanfic #Draco Malfoy one shot

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euphoricdr3ams · 9 days ago

Text

Untitled (4/?)

A simple game night turns into something deeper when Y/N loses more than just rounds of Smash Bros. With each defeat, the pressure of perfection, family wounds, and fear of being left behind start to unravel her. But Felix sees through it all — past the jokes, past the anger — and refuses to let her spiral alone.

genres: written, childhood friends to lovers, fluff, angst,unrequited love, senior year (highschool), felix and Y/N are aged up to 17, pre-debut,

Trigger Warning: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Protected Sex, Cursing, Underaged Drinking

Word count: 5,615

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

You set up Smash Bros next. Same old rules — loser takes a shot. Several rounds in, and it's loss after loss. Each one stings more than the last, a sick kind of symbolism that’s hitting a little too close right now. You take a deep breath, aware of Felix watching you quietly, sensing the way your sanity is starting to fray at the edges. But your frustration is peaking — not just with the game, but everything. Your mom. Your future. Your dad. The growing fear that Nana, Gramps, Hana, Faith, your friends — even Felix — might all leave you behind. Just like Kirby flying off-screen in sudden death. Gone. No warning.

It’s all too much. You want to be great, but your fingers aren’t syncing with your mind. You’re here, but you’re not.

And you snap.

You throw your controller and hits the wall with a loud, sharp crack.

“I can’t get anything right. Fuck—of course. The permanent disappointment.”

Felix freezes, wide-eyed. You’ve rage quit before — but this? This was different.

“We should take a break,” he says softly, putting down his controller and turning off the TV.

“No, it’s fine,” you say quickly. You footsteps are heavy as you go to pick up the Gamecube controller on the other side of the room. “It has to be fine. Let’s go again—”

“Y/N,” he interrupts, voice firmer this time. He grabs the controller out of your hands and puts it on the table. “Is that really what you want? Is that really how you feel about yourself?”

You freeze. Your jaw tightens as you struggle to come up with an answer. Truthfully, you don’t think much of yourself at all. Some days, you feel invisible. Other days, you’re convinced you’re too much — too loud, too lost, too messy to be loved the way you need. Today? You just feel like a failure. Ugly, unmotivated, disgusting. A mistake your father never really wanted.

Felix shifts closer.

“Be real with me,” he says, scooting closer. “I know you like to be perfect for everyone. But it’s me. I don’t need you to be perfect. I need you to be you.”

His hand finds yours, thumb tracing soft, steady circles. You don’t even realize how hard you’ve been gripping him until the ache in your fingers sets in. Slowly, the tension in your body begins to release. Your shoulders drop. Your breath evens out.

The shame spiral fades — but in its place comes something quieter. Heavier.

Emptiness.

And something inside you finally breaks.

Maybe it’s the dim lighting. Maybe it’s the drinks. Or maybe it’s just him — the quiet steadiness of him.

Your eyes burn. Tears swell.

“We don’t have time for this,” you whisper, voice cracking. “We won’t have many nights like this anymore. I don’t want all our memories to be about whatever’s falling apart in my life again. So yeah — let’s just have fun.”

But Felix doesn’t move away.

“We won’t have many nights like this anymore,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, “where we can be completely open... and trust that the other person actually sees us. Cares without some ulterior motive.”

He squeezes your hand gently.

“I’m leaning into this. Because this? This is precious to me.”

You let the single tear fall.

“I… I’m okay. I promise. Just—today was rough,” you say, trying to hold your breath steady. “You’d think I’d stop expecting something different, but it’s always the same. Every time.”

Felix’s voice cuts through the room like a knife. “What did he say?”

There’s a disgust in his tone that makes your head lift slightly, startled—but not surprised. He already knew.

Of course he did.

Felix had never liked your dad. Not since he bailed on your art show right after your mom passed. Not since he remarried and acted like you were just an awkward footnote in his shiny new family.

Felix never understood why you still cared. Why did you keep trying? Why did you hold out hope that one day, maybe, he'd look at you and see someone worth rooting for.

But he never said much. He held his tongue. For you.

Because he knew that, no matter how broken the man left you feeling, his approval still meant something. Still hurt to go without.

Still mattered.

Felix exhaled, his jaw tense, like he was chewing on the rage behind his teeth. “You know,” he said, quieter now, “you remind me of Jasmine sometimes. From Aladdin.”

You blink at him, confused.

“Because one day,” he continues, “I know you’re gonna look that man in the eye and tell him exactly what he deserves to hear. And when you do? It’s gonna be legendary.”

“I actually have a picture of me and Mom meeting her,” you say softly, your voice thick with the weight of memory. “I wish I could go back. I miss her so much.”

Felix doesn’t respond with words — just inches closer and pulls you into his arms.

His hug is quiet but solid. Grounding. You don’t try to fight it. You just let yourself fall into the stillness. Curled up with him on the couch, the world finally goes quiet. So does your mind.

He plays with your curls — the ones he’s always loved. He wished your wore them out more often — and traces soft lines up and down your arms.

For a moment, nothing exists except the sound of your quiet crying and the unspoken truth sitting heavy in the room.

“I know,” he says gently. “It must’ve been awful. Him being so dismissive of something that was literally made for her. I’m sorry. You deserved better than that. You always will. And no matter what happens—” he hesitates, “I’m not going to leave you.”

“I know,” you whisper. Then, with a watery laugh: “That’s why I didn’t wanna cry, but you did this to me.”

He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, lips twitching at your joke. “Yeah, well. You needed to cry. You can’t keep carrying all this on your own.”

The warmth in his gaze, the closeness of his hand still resting on your back, the soft lighting — everything about this moment feels fragile and fleeting. Like something borrowed from a dream.

So you take the leap.

You lean in, your lips brushing against his, unsure if it’s the comfort, the pain, the alcohol, or just you — finally wanting something for yourself.

Felix doesn’t hesitate. He kisses you back like it’s the only thing that makes sense in the chaos of the moment. Like he’s been waiting.

And for a second, it’s easy to forget everything else.

“Sorry,” you chuckle, brushing your fingers under your eyes. “That was random.”

Felix lets out a soft laugh, but there's something tender in his eyes — something a little sad. He wishes you hadn’t pulled away from the weight of the moment, but he gets it. You’ve always had a habit of diversion.

“I actually got you something today,” you say quickly, standing up and fumbling with your phone to put some music on the speakers — something easy, something nostalgic.

He tilts his head. “What? You got me something?”

You disappear for a moment and come back with a small box in your hand. You sit beside him again and carefully place the compass in his palm.

“It’s a compass,” you explain. “And on the back… it has our names, and the coordinates of the game club where we first met.”

Felix’s fingers run over the engraving, his jaw tight. You watch his face shift — the quiet recognition in his eyes, the weight of everything left unsaid crashing into the present.

He doesn’t say anything at first.

You almost speak again, try to fill the silence, but he finally breathes out, voice a little shaky, “This is… this is probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever given me.”

He pulls you into a hug — tight, warm, a little desperate — like he wants to press pause on time.

When he pulls back, he holds your hands in his, thumbs brushing lightly over your knuckles. “I’m serious,” he says, looking straight at you. “I’ll hold onto this forever. And I want you to know… I know a lot’s going to change soon, but I’m not going to leave you behind. I care about you, Y/N. So much.”

Your smile softens, and without even thinking, you lift your pinky and tap his hand twice — the little hand sign you both made back on the playground, years ago, when you promised you’d never stop being friends no matter what.

Felix swallows hard, a flicker of something else in his eyes — like he wants to say more. But he doesn’t.

Instead, he whispers, “You always know how to make me feel like I’m home.”

And silently, he’s screaming at himself for not being brave enough to tell you the truth.

You both switch into your PJs, laughing and joking as you finish your third bottle of soju. Somewhere between the laughter and the warmth of the room, you start to reflect — on Hana’s words, on Felix’s presence, on how he’s always been there. Safe. Supportive. A quiet constant in your life. You’re only just beginning to realize how much that means to you.

Felix slips the compass into his bag while you keep the energy light. Something about getting those feelings out earlier seems to have shifted something. Now you’re giggling over UNO, working through your fourth bottle of soju, and everything feels easy again. Comforting.

Felix can feel the change too. He notices how your once-frozen demeanor has melted into soft laughter, lit up by the spark in his own eyes. It’s all so simple, and the words you said earlier — “we don’t have many more nights like this” — echo in his head. He takes a deep breath, trying to keep his composure, knowing the next move will end the game. He doesn’t want any of this to end.

You see the draw four card staring back at you. You stick your tongue out and laugh wickedly.

“What?” Felix furrows his brow.

“You see the cards. Pick up the four.” You smirk, already feeling your win coming.

Felix sticks his tongue back out at you, getting ready for his fake victory lap — only for his face to drop as you slam your own draw four on top of his.

“Pick up eight,” you cackle, full-on belly laughing until tears roll down your face.

“I don’t wanna play anymore,” Felix groans, but he’s laughing too. Your chest hurts from how hard you’re laughing. You stumble up and walk toward the room, only to see a text from Faith:

Bestiiiieeee: Hey are y’all coming rrrrrrrrr nahhhhh?

You call out, “Did you still wanna go to that party Faith is hosting?” Secretly hoping he says no.

While Felix usually lives for a good party — any chance to show off his social butterfly charm — he looks up and sees how at ease you are, curls perfectly resting, cheeks flushed from laughter, and the room so warm and familiar. He tosses logic aside and leans into the moment.

“Nah, I’m good. Unless you wanna go… but considering you’re, like, two steps from your room, I don’t think you’re heading in there to change into a backyard party outfit.”

“I mean, I could. We’re young, wild, and free.” You sway a little, tipsy. “Let’s not be boring!”

“It’s 45 degrees outside. And raining.”

“Oh, no. F*** that. I’m putting on my PJs.”

Felix laughs — full, easy laughter. He thought he’d have to convince you to stay in, but of course not. That’s why this works. That’s why you’re close. You know each other.

You grab your phone and reply to Faith:

Y/N: Heyyyy I'm gonna passss, Felix and I are hanging at Nana's for the night. I think he's gonna stayyyy???

Bestiiiieeee: o.000 ohhhhhhh ok. He’s been around a lot more. You sure there’s nothing going on?

Y/N: ewwwwww it’s Lix, don’t play like that

Bestiiiieeee: lmaooooo sureeee. Y’all be safe please 😉 I’ll call you sometime this weekend for the recap.

As you're changing, you can’t help but feel the rush creeping in—first from Faith’s not-so-subtle text, then from your own spiraling thoughts. It’s the same flutter you felt when Hana brought it up weeks ago. Felix is your friend. There's no reason to escalate things… but lately, things with him have felt so much more intense.

You wonder, Is there really ever a right moment? Or a right person? Maybe it’s just about the feeling. And right now, Felix feels like the right guy.

You slip on your nightshirt and shorts and walk back out to hand him the set of clothes he keeps over. Then you duck back into the hallway to give him a little privacy.

While he changes, Felix glances around your room—your real room—and takes in all the things that scream you. Your creativity is on display across every wall: photos, sketches, concert tickets, quotes you scribbled in the corner of a mirror. His eyes land on a picture of the two of you from two summers ago, laughing in the middle of some inside joke. It all feels warmer now. Different.

He tries to keep it together, but it’s getting harder. His feelings for you have been complicated for a while now—something about the way you trust him, how you move through the world together like it’s the most natural thing. Somewhere along the line, he realized he probably has a crush on you. And now, it’s a war in his head: should he say something, or keep pretending it’s nothing?

His thoughts are interrupted when you come back in, slightly tipsy, flopping dramatically onto the bed with a giggle. It’s all so cute. So fucking cute to him.

He slides under the sheets beside you, the air between you growing heavier.

Maybe it’s the drinks. Maybe it’s the silence. But instead of grabbing a pillow, you reach for Felix.

And he lets you.

Your body fits perfectly against his, like a puzzle you’ve both been quietly avoiding. He strokes your curls gently, carefully, like you might shatter if he touched too hard. His gaze lingers—on the crescent shape your eyes make when you laugh, the way your skin glows in the low light, how your lips look soft and impossibly kissable.

He tries to keep his eyes respectful, he really does—but then they drift lower.

The swell of your chest rises and falls, steady and slow. Not too much. Not too little. Just enough to fill his hand.

Or his mouth, a reckless voice whispers in his head.

Felix blinks, trying to shake the thought, but it lingers. Sticky. Dangerous.

The room feels too warm. The R&B music playing through the speaker pulls him back to the present, grounding him just enough to remember: You’re his friend. Not his girlfriend. No matter how blurry things have gotten. No matter how many stolen kisses you’ve shared when the alcohol makes everything feel softer, easier.

He inhales slowly. Tries to focus on the beat. The rhythm of your breath.

But it doesn’t help.

Because in the quiet, everything he’s trying to push down gets louder.

His fingers drift across your arm, careful and slow. And suddenly, something in you clicks.

“Hey,” you say softly, “do you remember that convo we had the other day?”

He shifts gaze now fully on yours. “What convo?”

“The one about sex.”

Felix sits up slightly, more alert. “Yeah. Not exactly our usual topic, so… yeah, I remember.”

You study his face, the comfort of his presence, the familiar tension that’s grown too obvious to ignore. “Are you still down?”

He blinks. “When?”

You roll your eyes. He knows what you mean. He knows.

“Now.”

Felix swallows, hard. “Seriously?”

You nod, not breaking eye contact. “Yeah. I trust you more than I trust anyone else. And with everything you’ve been for me lately i am, I just… I want it to be with someone I care about deeply, you know?”

He stays quiet for a beat. Then—“Yeah,” he says softly. “I care about you so much. And if you’re okay with it… I want to show you that.”

“I am.”

You lean in, and your lips meet.

The kiss starts soft—sweet, careful, like a question. But this time, you don’t pull away. And this time, Felix doesn’t hold back.

You pause only for breath, eyes fluttering open just long enough to catch the flicker of something in his expression. Like wonder. Like hunger. And then he kisses you again, deeper this time, cupping your face like you might disappear if he lets go.

It builds slowly, deliberately, with every stroke of his thumb and graze of his lips. He’s studying you, adjusting, learning. The room feels warmer—your skin, flushed. His touch, reverent.

You think you open your mouth to take in air, but instead, a soft, involuntary moan slips out—so full, so unfiltered it surprises even you.

And that? That’s when Felix completely loses it. The last shred of self-control he was holding onto vanishes.

“Sorry—” you start, embarrassed.

“Don’t be,” he cuts in, voice low and wrecked. “That was so hot. Let me make you do it again.”

He kisses you again, and your hands find their way under his shirt. His skin is soft, warm, and firm beneath your fingertips—his “idol” body slowly coming in, carved and perfect. Your hands are everywhere at once, chasing sensation, craving closeness.

Your moans get louder, less controlled. Felix has one hand on your cheek, the other somehow slipping under your shirt. You don’t even know when it happened, but you don’t care. Not when he’s making you feel this good.

“Fuck,” you whimper as he begins to kiss your neck, lifting your shirt just enough to see your hardened nipples.

He takes one into his mouth, and your body arches. It’s heaven. He teases one side with his tongue, then circles to the other with slow, calculated movements. Gentle. No biting. Just pressure. Pleasure. He’s clearly done his research—and tonight, he’s praying it works.

Because all he wants to hear is you. Your sweet, broken moans.

He pauses just long enough to flash you a smug little smirk.

You roll your eyes. “What?”

“Nothing,” he shrugs playfully, grinning. “Just nice to know,I know how to make you feel good.”

There’s something about the way he says it. Something about this moment. It feels natural. Meant to be.

“You wanna keep going?” he asks, fingers now tugging lightly at the tie on your shorts. He leans close, whispering the words into your ear—and you can feel just how hard he is under his sweatpants.

A soft kiss lands on your neck, and you let out a breathy, “Yes.”

Felix doesn’t waste time. He undoes the drawstring of your shorts and slips his hand inside. His fingers slide through your slick warmth, and he groans.

“Fuck… you’re so wet.”

“Well,” you whisper, teasing, “whose fault is that?”

You want to keep playing the game—hold onto your cool—but he starts rubbing slow, purposeful circles on your clit, and it’s getting harder to keep up the boss-girl facade he’s already dismantling.

“Mine,” he mutters. “Keep going. I wanna drown in you right now.”

He increases the pressure just slightly, just enough to make your hips buck. You bite your lip, grasping for any sort of release from the overwhelming tension building inside you.

Every inch of you is buzzing, unraveling.

“Fuck. Oh my god.”

You pull his shirt down, needing him closer, needing him to kiss you again. He obliges, lips warm against yours, whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

“Can I push in now?”

“Please.”

Felix starts with just his index finger, watching your reaction closely. He's tipsy, but his focus is all on you. He doesn't want to mess this up. He knows how important this moment is.

He waits for any sign of discomfort, but instead, you let out a frustrated little moan. “More,” you whine. It's too gentle—it’s not enough.

He chuckles, amused. “No problem.”

At some point, your shorts have disappeared. You didn’t even feel him take them off. Now, he slips two fingers inside you, pumping them slowly. Your wetness is spilling over, coating his fingers, and he’s mesmerized. Your pussy is pulsing in front of him and he just stares, captivated.

It’s one thing to see it in porn. This? This is different. It’s real, and it’s beautiful.

“You sound so sexy,” he murmurs, eyes still fixed on you. “I just wanna see how you taste once. I know it’s gonna be so good.”

“Then don’t have me waiting, Yongbok. Fuck. Oh my god—”

He gives your clit one single, teasing kiss.

“MMMHMMM, God,” you cry out.

You taste like heaven, like sugar and sin, and now it’s all over. Felix goes in with his tongue, licking and sucking like he hasn’t eaten in days. You grab at his hair, pulling it back so you can see him. He’s worshipping you—your pussy, your moans, your body—and it’s so fucking hot you can barely breathe.

He pauses for just a moment, lifting his head for air.

“You okay down there?” you manage between your ragged breaths.

“I’m amazing. How are you?” he says smugly, using his fingers to spread you open again, going right back in like he’s got a mission to finish. And he does: making you cum on his tongue.

You thank the universe that no one else is home. The sounds you're making are downright obscene. But he doesn’t care. It’s perfect.

“Hmm? I didn’t get an answer,” he teases.

“Mhh… Memreurwurbw—”

“What was that?” He grins, still teasing.

“Miehreiheanfemfan—” you mumble again, before he slips his fingers back inside you, cutting your words off completely.

You're grinding down onto his hand, and the noises between your bodies are wet, sticky, loud. His tongue swirls just right, sucking your clit into his mouth at the exact angle that makes your toes curl. You feel your climax coming, fast and overwhelming. Your thighs start to shake.

He doesn’t stop. Not even for a second. And then—you break. Your back arches. Your moans are loud, unfiltered. You come undone completely, pulsing on his tongue, breath caught somewhere between a gasp and a cry.

When you look down at him, he’s got that same smug look again, eyes twinkling with pride.

He chuckles. “I don’t know what that sound was. Is that code for thank you?”

You shoot him a look, still breathless. “Lix… fuck you.”

You try to sound annoyed, but you’re laughing. You don’t want to admit it, but he did exactly what he set out to do.

You sit up slightly, reaching into the drawer beside you and pulling out the condoms Hana left behind. You shake your head with a tiny smile. Of course she knew.

He catches you grinning. “What?”

“Nothing. Just… she’s gonna be so smug.”

Your eyes drift to his sweatpants—and yeah, that’s definitely a tent. Your breath catches when you realize just how big he is. You let out a small, nervous laugh.

He raises an eyebrow. “What? Does my dick look weird?”

“No. I’m just shocked you’re that big.”

He laughs, pulling you closer. “I’m gonna take that as a compliment.”

You hand him the condom, but your fingers linger. Instead of giving it to him right away, you shift, leaning down slightly. You start to play with it in your hands, teasing, before gently wrapping your hand around him. He props himself up on his elbows, eyes fluttering shut as you start to stroke him.

And then—you take him into your mouth.

You gather some extra spit, let it drip, and go even deeper, humming around him.

“Ufrhugjmgri—fuck, babe—aihfiefm—”

Felix’s words are broken, scrambled. He knows he probably shouldn’t be calling you babe… but fuck it. This moment? It’s unreal. You, with that sharp mouth of yours, now using it for the exact opposite of arguing—giving him the kind of pleasure he’s only dreamed about.

His dick is throbbing, hard and alive, pulsing against your tongue. You can feel his heartbeat in it.

You pull back slightly, looking up at him. “Am I doing this right?”You’re nervous. His moans were softer than expected, more fragile than filthy, and you weren’t sure what that meant.

But he reaches out and cups your cheek, his cock still warm in your mouth. “Yes,” he breathes. “You’re doing so good.”

He gathers your curls in his hands, gently pulling them out of the way so he can see your face. “Keep going, babe.”

Something about the praise—his voice, his eyes, his touch—it sends a jolt of confidence through you. You suck him deeper, bobbing your head, working him with your tongue and lips. His moans are getting louder, more desperate. He’s not holding back anymore. They’re raw, animalistic—like he'd give you anything you asked for in this moment.

He grips the sheets with one hand, your hair with the other. His abs tense. His hips jerk slightly forward.

But then, just as he’s getting close, he pulls you off him, breathless. “I’m gonna cum if you keep that up any longer.”

You watch as he tears open the condom wrapper, sliding it down over his length with practiced hands. He climbs over you and gently adjusts your position, making sure you’re comfortable on the bed. A pillow under your head. A kiss on your lips. And then—his fingers again. Just to make sure you’re ready. He stretches you gently, watching you.

When he pulls his fingers out, he looks you dead in the eyes.

“You sure?”

“Yes.” No hesitation. No second-guessing.

Your body, your mind, your soul—everything wants him right now. And nothing's going to stop that.

He slips inside your wet folds, slowly. Your eyes widen. He’s… bigger than the dildo you tried once during a moment of curiosity. But thicker too. It’s a little uncomfortable at first, but his fingers are on your clit, rubbing slowly, easing you into it.

“Fuck—oh my god,” you gasp, clutching the bedsheets. Your moans break up your breath, and before you even realize it, he’s fully inside you.

“You okay?”

“Yes. Move.”

Felix starts with slow thrusts, watching your face for any sign of discomfort. But all he sees is how your body’s reacting—how wet you are, how your moans grow messier, louder, more desperate with every stroke. Your pussy tightens around him, clenching so sweetly he swears he might black out.

You’re sending him. Every little sound you make is burning into his brain. And you look unreal—so beautiful like this, taking him, wanting him.

“F-fuck yes,” he pants. He finds a rhythm that syncs with the beat of the song playing in the background, and it drives him insane.

“Please… more.” He smirks.

You’re slipping around him so easily, soaking the sheets beneath you. The headboard is knocking against the wall. You’re perfect. The way you take him is perfect.

“Shit,” he groans. “You’re so perfect. Tell me—how am I doing? Tell me how you want me. I’ll do anything for this body. I’ll do anything for you.”

“Deeper.”

He pushes in further, slowing his thrusts so you feel everything—every inch, every vein dragging against your walls.

“Like that?”

You try to respond, but it’s just a string of sounds, breathless and broken.

“Huh?” he teases, thrusting deeper. “Use your words. How do you want me to make you cum?”

“it’s so good. Shit.”

“Flip over. I’ll make it even better.”

Before you can process, he’s bent you over the mattress. Your ass in the air, hair gently adjusted by him using the mirror nearby. He slides back in and grabs your waist, thrusting so deep that all you can say is:

“Yes, please. Oh my god. More.”

He lifts your head so you’re looking at your reflection. “Look at yourself. It’s beautiful.” He kisses you again. “My perfect view.”

You can feel it building—your orgasm, rising fast. The music, the bed, the heat, all of it blurring together. That spot he keeps hitting? It’s going to push you over the edge any second now.

“Shit, I’m—” Your words crash into a moan.

Your ass is clapping against him, the bed creaking under the pressure. He could fuck you through the mattress and neither of you would care. The moment’s too hot. Too real.

He pulls out again, flips you onto your back, and stares into your eyes as he sinks back in. This time, his thrusts are fast, erratic—hungry.

“Lix” you gasp. “I think I’m gonna.”

Felix kisses you, shifts his angle just slightly—and that’s it. Your moan rips out of your throat, full of need, full of surrender.

“Fuck yeah, babe,” he groans. “Cum on my dick. I know you can.”

His fingers rub your clit while his lips kiss your neck, dragging you closer and closer.

“Shit—oh my god—”

You come harder than you ever have. Your body trembles, your voice catches, and for a second, nothing else exists.

He’s still moving, still inside you, whispering praises.

“Perfect. You’re so perfect. So wet. So cute. So fucking nasty.”

His thrusts get sloppy, his moans lower, drawn out. You’re touching him everywhere—his hair, his back, his chest—pulling him closer.

Then he grunts, his cock throbbing, and you feel the heat of his release pumping into the condom. He collapses gently against you, both of you breathless.

He pulls out slowly, and you glance at the condom, giggling. It's full.

“Wow.”

“Yeah… You okay?” he asks, eyes soft now.

You nod, still catching your breath. “Yeah. I’m amazing. That was… amazing. Thank you, Felix.”

He grins, brushing your hair from your face. “It was everything I’ve ever wanted. Thank you, Y/N.”

Felix kisses you and walks off to the bathroom. You follow not long after, taking your turn to clean up, still buzzing from the afterglow. When you step back into the room, he’s already back in his sweats, shirtless, hair a little messy from your hands. He’s looking at the starry light display on the ceiling, face soft and unreadable in the dim glow.

You glance around for your clothes.

“It’s here,” he says, quietly, holding up your shirt and shorts.

You chuckle, padding over to him. “Thanks.”

You dress in silence, but it’s not awkward. Just... full. Heavy with something neither of you are quite ready to name. You crawl into bed beside him, both of you lying on your backs now, watching the stars dance across the ceiling. The silence feels sacred. Safe.

“It’s two a.m.,” you murmur. “We should sleep.”

“Yeah,” he says. But he doesn’t close his eyes.

A few beats pass, and then, “Y/N, I won’t ever leave you. Thank you. You mean everything to me.”

You turn toward him, your heart expanding all at once. You smile, a sleepy, emotional sort of grin.

“I know... and thanks. It was perfect. I’m so glad it was you.”

Felix leans over to kiss you — slow, gentle, a promise he can’t put into words. And as he pulls back, his eyes linger on yours like he��s trying to memorize this version of you: soft and safe, curled into his side like it’s where you belong.

At the edge of his tongue is the confession he’s been holding in for weeks. The truth that could shift everything between you.

But it stays there, stuck, buried behind fear and the countdown he can’t ignore. He glances at the clock again. The date. Only two months left until he has to leave.

His chest tightens.

What if this is the best it ever gets?

What if saying it makes it real—and makes it end?

So instead, he kisses the top of your head. Pretends the ache in his throat is just from being tired. He tells himself this is enough. That even if this doesn't turn into something more, he’ll always have this night. This feeling. You.

You, tangled in his sheets with the galaxy reflecting off your skin.

You, whispering “I’m so glad it was you” like he’s more than just a person in your story—you’re glad it was him.

And you — you’re lying there with the happiest ache in your chest, tracing little shapes on his stomach with your fingers. Your heart feels too full to hold. You don’t even know what you’re holding onto so tightly, but you’ve never felt more wanted. More safe. More understood.

For once, you don’t need to overthink anything.

You just let yourself exist in it. In him.

You don’t know what will happen tomorrow. But right now, the boy beside you is everything, and your last thought before sleep is simple.

______________________________________________________

Author's Note: Lol i hope y'all like <3, Please let me know what u think

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phantomarine · 9 months ago

Note

Hey what were you trying to say in your “it gets good at page 1001” post

Was it more of a comment directed at yourself ( self degradation), is it satire about perfectionism,

Is it supposed to be inspirational for Beginners webcomic creators, or we’re you just in a bad mood?

More of a warning against self-sabotage, because I see it so much. Sometimes it's tied to perfectionism, sometimes it's the opposite - people surrendering to imperfection when they don't really have to.

Creator chat incoming. I'll put it under the deelybob for anyone who wants to read it 👇

I've been in the webcomic sphere for several years now and I've seen so many people introduce their comic with 'I know it's very long and not easy to read, and I won't be going back and changing anything about what I've already made - but please critique it so I can make the rest of the pages better and attract a bigger audience from now on.'

And that's a hard thing to respond to. If a reader can't get through all those existing pages without being confused or bored, then how can they get to the good stuff that lies past them?

So much of gaining an audience is about actively making it easy to 'fall into' a work. Without that easy entry point, it's always going to be an uphill battle to build an audience, no matter how good the later chapters get. There are outliers, but most webcomics won't be those outliers, especially with thousands of them available nowadays. Some people love the grind, but most people will jump to a new tab and try to find something less frustrating.

And webcomic creation is particularly cursed by its very nature. Creators are hesitant to go back and edit pages, even once they've figured out more details about their craft or story structure. It's mostly because of the seeming permanence of it all - the art takes ages and the words feel unchangeable if even one other person has read them. To go back and edit is to publicly admit your failings, right? That's how it feels. What do you MEAN you didn't get it right the first time? You were supposed to do it live, and do it PERFECTLY!

But ideally it shouldn't be any different than prose writing, which is ALL ABOUT finding the story in those edits. And because your story is digital, you can go back and change things whenever you feel like it. A webcomic is fluid.

And if you're thinking 'I should just redraw my whole first chapter' - NO! Hell no, old art can be a part of the appeal! It's far more about finding little tricks to convey your story/characters more clearly. I have read some first chapters with janky art that made me fall completely in love with the story and cast. It's not about the art - as with all things comic-related, it's about conveyance.

Examples I've seen and some I've used myself: A single extra page with a meaningful interaction can solidify the theme of a character's arc. One additional 5-to-10-page scene can help add visual context for an offscreen event where there was none before. Adding a map can tell people where the characters currently are. Changing a character design can help if they get often confused with another character. Redoing your lettering to make it more legible is a huge one too.

In the end, I just don't want people to be afraid of small edits. When I got feedback about the bad clarity of my own work, I knew it would take some time to fix those problems. It wasn't fun to think about or to do, but I'm glad I did it in the end - because it would have limited my audience tremendously. With just a bit of extra effort, I opened a door that wasn't there before, and it now leads more people even more easily to 'the good stuff.'

tl;dr You started your webcomic for a reason, and you're learning more things about its characters, story, and craft every day. Don't be afraid to go back to old pages and inject some of that wisdom through editing. Even a little can go a long way.

***Caveat: If your goal is to just create chaotically, with no goal of gaining an audience, you are a wild and free little thing, and I am in awe of you. This whole rant doesn't apply to you, and you are stronger than me.

#phantomarine #ask response #on writing #webcomics

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seoulzie · 10 months ago

Text

sleepless encounters

───── CAPELLA ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 1 the brightest star in the northern constellation, auriga

synopsis: beomgyu, a high school insomniac, finds a hidden observatory tower - only to discover another sleepless soul, y/n, already there. trapped together, initial awkwardness gives way to connection as they share their struggles.

彡★ pairing: beomgyu x f!reader 彡★ genre: fluff, angst, strangers to lovers au, university au 彡★ warnings: sleep disorders, mental health issues, physical violence, emotional distress, mild language, family dynamics (i swear its not that serious i just tag a lot)

( this is part of a longer work ) ⤷ read whispers of the unsleeping here!

SEUL SPEAKS! first chapter!! woooo!! aur alps means "alpha auriga" which is another name for the star capella heh i wrote this in the span of two days & it is very much proofread but as always, if i missed anything, pls let me know~!

CHAPTER 1: AUR ALPS word count: 7.5K

the first light of dawn barely peeked through the curtains, rousing you from another restless night. insomnia had been a constant companion for as long as you could remember. frustration gnawed at you with each tick of the clock as minutes bled into an hour.

finally, defeated, you threw off the covers. no point in lying there anymore. you rolled out of bed, rubbed your eyes gritty with fatigue, and began your morning routine.

the routine of getting ready for school felt both familiar and exhausting. each step, from washing your face that felt heavy with sleep to pulling on your uniform, was a battle against fatigue clinging to you like a physical weight. as you slipped on your skirt, your fingers brushed against something unexpected – a crumpled wad of bills tucked into the pocket. a small smile played on your lips. "well, that's a welcome surprise," you thought, tucking the money into your wallet.

descending the stairs, you called out, "mom? are you still here?" but there was no response. you noticed a plate of food on the kitchen table, neatly covered with a note: "have a great day at school! love, mom."

you smiled. your mom always found a way to care for you, even with your busy schedule. you ate your breakfast quickly, savoring the homemade meal, before grabbing your bag and heading out the door.

as you stepped outside, you were greeted by the crisp morning air. a few houses down the street, mr. yu, your neighbor with a permanent scowl etched onto his face, was watering his prized petunias. his eyes inevitably landed on you, his lips pursing in disapproval.

"going to school so early, young lady? wouldn't have thought you were such a studious one," he remarked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

you just smiled. "good morning, mr. yu. early bird gets the worm, right?" you countered, dodging his veiled criticism. dealing with mr. yu’s daily commentary was an art form you had mastered. a quick joke, a disarming smile, and the grumpy neighbor's negativity usually dissipated. today, however, mr. yu seemed particularly disgruntled.

mr. yu huffed but said nothing more as you walked past him, a playful grin on your face.

you hurried down the street, your pace quickening under mr. yu’s scrutiny. you reached the corner and took a deep breath, the fresh air filling your lungs. the walk to school was unusually quiet. the early hour meant most students were still nestled in their beds, blissfully unaware of your daily struggle to stay awake.

because you had woken up earlier than usual, you realized you had enough time to stop by your favorite café. this was a rare treat since you typically only visited after school. the café was a cozy little spot, with a warm and inviting atmosphere. when you entered, the familiar sound of the door chime welcomed you.

"y/n! an early bird, aren't you?" a friendly voice greeted you as you pushed open the door. it was minho, the barista with a perpetually tired smile.

"couldn't sleep," you confessed sheepishly. "usual?"

minho chuckled, already reaching for your favorite iced caramel latte. "have it right here."

"you know me too well," you grinned, adding, "make it a takeout, please."

minho winked. "coming right up," he said, expertly adding a swirl of whipped cream and a drizzle of caramel sauce.

the coffee was a secret weapon you deployed on these mornings. the cool sweetness was a welcome shock to your system, a temporary antidote to the fatigue clinging to you like cobwebs. while minho finished preparing your order, you whipped out your phone, pretending to be engrossed in a text message.

"here you go, sleepyhead," minho said, sliding the coffee across the counter. "on the house, consider it a pre-dawn pick-me-up."

your eyes widened in surprise. "you don't have to—"

"think of it as an investment in future caffeine sales," minho chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "besides, you always brighten this place up, even at this ungodly hour."

a genuine smile bloomed on your face. grabbing the coffee, you mumbled a thank you before slipping out into the quiet morning.

by the time you reached school, the hallways were still relatively empty. not many students had arrived yet. you wandered through the corridors, enjoying the calm before the storm of a typical school day. eventually, you made your way to your first class. the room was mostly empty except for a few students napping at their desks. you envied how easily they could fall asleep.

settling into your seat, you began organizing your supplies. a few minutes later, your friend jihye walked in, looking surprised to see you.

"morning! you're here early. what's the occasion?" jihye teased, and you just smiled. "just wanted to get a head start today."

jihye, oblivious to your secret, merely shrugged. you settled into your seats, exchanging hushed whispers as the first few students trickled into the classroom.

your conversation was cut short as the teacher walked in and started the lesson. you focused on your work, diligently taking notes and solving problems. despite your lack of sleep, you managed to stay alert.

lunchtime arrived, and the cafeteria buzzed with activity. you sat with jihye and a few other friends, enjoying their usual banter and laughter.

"hey, y/n!," jihye said between bites of her sandwich. "do you want to hang out during free period today? we could go to the library or something."

"actually," you started, your voice soft, "i think i might have to pass on that today. i promised ms. lee i'd help her out with something in the astronomy club during the free period."

jihye's brows furrowed in confusion. "astronomy club? but isn't that, like, completely dead? remember the fire last year?"

you flinched at the memory. the fire that ravaged the observatory tower at the edge of the schoolyard had indeed put a damper on the astronomy club's activities. most students, spooked by the incident, had abandoned the club altogether.

"technically, it still exists," you mumbled, avoiding jihye's gaze. "and technically, i'm still the president." a small, defiant part of you swelled with pride. just because everyone else gave up, didn't mean you had to.

jihye's eyes widened. "woah, you serious? you're the sole member of the astronomy club?"

you forced a small smile. "something like that." jihye, bless her heart, could be a tad nosy sometimes. but you couldn't tell her the real reason why you spent your free periods in the observatory. it wasn't about dusty telescopes or gazing at the stars. it was about the only place you could steal a few precious moments of sleep, hidden from the world.

"well," jihye said, her voice softening. "if you're sure about the astronomy club…"

"positive," you chimed in a little too brightly. "rain or shine, duty calls right?"

jihye chuckled, a hint of suspicion lingering in her eyes. "alright, alright. don't overdo it, you. rest is important, even for presidents of dead clubs."

your smile faltered slightly. rest. the very word felt like a cruel joke. "i'll keep that in mind," you managed, forcing a light tone.

the rest of the day passed in a blur of classes, notes, and forced smiles. every stolen glance at the clock felt like an eternity. finally, the sweet chime of the bell at the end of the day signaled freedom, or at least a temporary escape from watchful eyes.

with a mumbled goodbye to jihye, you dashed out of the classroom, your heart pounding in your chest. the observatory stood alone on the edge of the schoolyard, a stark silhouette against the setting sun. it looked forlorn, a forgotten relic of a bygone era. yet, to you, it was a sanctuary, a place where you could finally shed the mask of forced normalcy and surrender to the exhaustion that gnawed inside.

you quickened your pace, reaching the observatory and pushing open the heavy wooden door with a sigh of relief. the musty scent of old books and dust greeted you, a familiar and strangely comforting aroma. you slipped through the door and up a rickety staircase to the top floor with practiced ease.

there, under the expansive dome roof, lay your makeshift haven – a bed of thick comforters and pillows positioned right beneath the open skylight. it wasn't much, but for you, it was peace amidst the relentless war with sleep.

you settled onto your bed, pulling the comforter around you. the warmth and the gentle light filtering through the observatory’s domed roof created a cocoon of comfort. as you lay there, you felt your eyelids grow heavy, the exhaustion from countless sleepless nights finally catching up to her. you took a deep breath, letting the peaceful silence of the observatory lull you into a rare and much-needed sleep.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

today was the day. the day choi beomgyu finally gets some sleep. not the kind you get after cramming for exams or the fitful kind after practice – no, this was pure, uninterrupted shut-eye.

he bolted out of the classroom the second the bell for his free period chimed, ignoring soobin's shouts about lunch "yah, beomgyu! aren't you hungry?" yeah, hungry for sleep, maybe! he weaved through the halls, walking towards the astronomy tower.

of course, fate had other plans. right as he rounded a corner, he practically collided with the bane of his existence – student council president kim jinhyun. now, jinhyun loved to preach about school rules, yet here he was, sprinting down the hallway with a stack of papers clutched in his sweaty hand. hypocrite much?

"watch where you're going!" jinhyun's voice called out. you know you're not supposed to run in the halls," he scolded.

"i wasn't running, i was speed walking," beomgyu protested, keeping his voice carefully neutral. he knew better than to antagonize jinhyun further, especially when the student council president looked like he was about to combust. but he couldn't resist a small jab. "seems a bit hypocritical coming from someone who appears to be auditioning for the track team."

jinhyun's face flushed a deeper shade of red, the color creeping not just up his neck but even to the tips of his perfectly styled hair. "that's not the point," he sputtered, his voice hitching slightly. "there are rules, beomgyu, and they apply to everyone."

beomgyu raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "of course, president kim. rules are sacred. though, perhaps there should be an amendment for extenuating circumstances? like, say, if someone was tremendously behind schedule due to, i don't know, maybe spilling their precious student council paperwork all over the floor?"

jinhyun's eyes darted down to the stack of papers clutched precariously in his hand. beomgyu couldn't miss the way his grip tightened, his knuckles turning white.

"that's none of your concern," jinhyun snapped, his voice strained. he took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. "just move aside. i need to get to the faculty lounge… now.”

finally, after navigating the labyrinthine hallways and avoiding further-ins with authority figures, beomgyu arrived at the old astronomical observatory. the door creaked loudly as he pushed it open, and a shaft of dusty sunlight sliced through the gloom, revealing a spiral staircase that corkscrewed upwards, leading him towards the astronomy tower. he hesitated for a moment, peering inside, a mixture of curiosity and trepidation pulling at him.

the observatory was a large, circular room with a domed roof that let in streams of natural light. dust motes floated in the air, and old telescopes and equipment were scattered about. despite the layer of dust and the slightly musty smell, the place had a certain charm. beomgyu took a deep breath, feeling a sense of awe and appreciation for the space.

as he slowly stepped inside, his eyes scanned the room, taking in the scene. but then he noticed something in the corner—a figure laid out on a makeshift bed of thick comforters and pillows. his heart skipped a beat as the realization dawned on him.

why the fuck is there a girl here?

his mind raced as he tried to process the unexpected sight. he had come here to find a quiet place to sleep, not to stumble upon someone else's secret hideout. beomgyu stood there, frozen in place, unsure of what to do next.

would she wake up if he moved closer? should he just leave and find another spot? but where else could he go?

he tiptoed closer, the floorboards groaning under his weight. "hello?" he called out hesitantly. the figure didn't move. he cleared his throat, the sound echoing eerily in the dusty room. "is someone there?"

a disgruntled groan rumbled from the darkness, punctuated by a grumble that sounded suspiciously like, "leave me alone…" beomgyu couldn't help but stifle a grin.

this wasn't some horror movie, was it? maybe he should just bolt. but then, the figure shifted slightly, the sheet slipping down to reveal a mess of hair and a sliver of a cheek. hesitantly, beomgyu inched closer.

beomgyu debated turning around and leaving. maybe this whole tower idea was a bad one. but curiosity, that pesky little gremlin, wouldn't let him. he wasn't one to back down from a challenge, especially not a challenge shrouded in a sheet.

with a newfound resolve, he tapped the figure lightly on the shoulder. the groan this time was more pronounced, followed by a muffled curse.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

your eyes snapped open, heart hammering against your ribs. a figure loomed over you, shrouded in the dim light filtering through the dusty window.

you scrambled back, grabbing your bag that lay beside the makeshift bed. "uhm… hi?" your voice came out a squeak, barely audible. "what are you doing here?"

the person chuckled, a low, almost amused sound. "i could ask you the same thing"

panic surged through you as you scrambled to your feet, slinging your bag over your shoulder. "i was just… taking a nap. i didn't think anyone would come here," you said quickly, trying to think of an escape plan.

you darted toward the door, yanking on the handle, but it wouldn't budge. you pulled harder, desperation creeping into your movements. you turned to face the boy, your face pale. "did you shut the door?"

the figure stepped closer, the faint sunlight revealing a mop of dark hair. "relax," he said, his voice surprisingly calm. "i didn't lock you in."

you whirled around, fear giving way to a flicker of anger. "then why won't it open?" your eyes darted to the doorknob, a sick feeling settling in your stomach. the lock was busted, hanging crookedly from the frame. this door could only be opened from the outside.

"oh," he said, his voice laced with a hint of surprise. "didn't notice that."

your heart plummeted. trapped in a dusty abandoned tower with a stranger? today couldn't get any worse.

"who are you?" you demanded, voice trembling. "how did you get in here?

he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "look, i'm not some kind of creep, okay? my name's beomgyu. and i was just about to settle in for a nap when i saw you here."

slowly, hesitantly, you lowered the bag clutched protectively to your chest. this beomgyu didn't seem dangerous, more… confused.

"you… you were going to sleep here?" you asked, disbelief coloring your voice.

beomgyu shrugged. "trying to find a place to nap. i've got insomnia, and it's been a real bitch lately. thought this place would be perfect, but looks like someone beat me to it."

you couldn't help but scoff. "clearly."

beomgyu's brow furrowed in frustration. "don't you have your phone?" he asked, his voice laced with a growing edge of impatience. "just call someone for help."

the simple suggestion felt like a punch to the gut. you clutched your bag tighter, an instinctive protectiveness rising within you. you didn't want anyone to see what was inside, especially not the stranger trapped here with you.

"i… i do," you mumbled, your voice barely a whisper. the lie tasted bitter on your tongue, but the idea of handing over your phone, your only lifeline to some semblance of normalcy, was unbearable.

beomgyu's frustration boiled over. "then call whoever you need to get us out of here!" he demanded, his voice sharp.

you flinched at the harsh tone, the urge to lash back rising. but you knew it wasn't his fault. he simply wanted to get out, and your hesitation was making everything more difficult.

taking a deep breath, you forced yourself to explain, surprised by the words tumbling out of your mouth. "it's not that simple," you blurted, the quiet desperation finally bubbling to the surface.

beomgyu blinked, taken aback by your outburst. he stared at you for a long moment, waiting for you to continue.

swallowing the lump in your throat, you spoke again, your voice trembling slightly. "i can't sleep at night," you confessed, the words heavy with a secret you'd held close for so long. "it drives me crazy! i get headaches all day and feel so exhausted, but i can't seem to fall asleep. so, i come here to rest."

a flicker of surprise crossed beomgyu's face, quickly followed by something that looked suspiciously like understanding. the realization seemed to dawn on him slowly, a connection forming between you despite the strange circumstances.

suddenly, a strange sense of vulnerability washed over you. you hadn't meant to reveal your secret, but the words had escaped before you could stop them. here you were, trapped in a dusty room with a stranger, yet you'd opened up a part of yourself you'd kept hidden for so long.

"look," beomgyu said, his voice softer now, the harshness gone. "i get it. i have a friend named soobin. he's one of the few people who knows i have insomnia too. we can call him. he'd be able to help us."

he held out your phone towards you, his eyes searching yours for a flicker of consent. relief washed over you, a wave that calmed the storm of emotions churning within.

maybe, just maybe, this wouldn't be so bad after all.

with a silent nod, you allowed beomgyu to take your phone. as he dialed a number and started explaining your predicament to soobin, you couldn't help but steal a glance at him.

the afternoon sun slanted through the dusty window, painting golden stripes across the floor. beomgyu's voice, low and calming as he spoke with his friend, was a soothing counterpoint to the frantic drumming of your heart. realizing how tense you'd been, you sank back onto the thing you call a bed, the worn blankets offering a surprising sense of comfort.

he finished the call with a sigh of relief. "soobin has class but he'll come get us soon. he should be here in about twenty minutes."

he shuffled closer, settling down beside me on the dusty floor. the proximity sent a jolt through you, but it wasn't the same fear as before. now, it was laced with a strange curiosity.

"you know, i've always been under the impression that you were just a popular stoner, beomgyu," you confessed after he hung up, a wry smile playing on your lips.

he chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "well," he said, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "i am always sleepy and irritable, so i guess that tracks."

"but man," beomgyu sighed, leaning back against the dusty wall, "is this the perfect place to sleep, or what?"

you glanced around the room, taking in the chipped paint, the cobwebs clinging to the corners, and the single, flickering lightbulb hanging precariously from the ceiling. "perfect might be a strong word," you admitted with a smile.

"okay, okay," he conceded, raising his hands in mock surrender. "maybe 'peaceful' is a better description."

there was a moment of silence as you both processed this unexpected connection. you studied beomgyu, noticing the dark circles under his eyes and the tension in his shoulders. you knew all too well the toll insomnia could take.

beomgyu glanced at you, looking thoughtful. "so, how long have you been using this place?"

"a few months," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. "ever since the fire."

beomgyu's brow furrowed. "the fire?"

you nodded, a flicker of sadness crossing your features. "yeah, the one that ripped through the old science wing last year. remember? they condemned this whole tower as a safety hazard."

a wave of realization washed over beomgyu. the faint smell of smoke that lingered in the air, the boarded-up windows on the lower floors – it all clicked into place.

"so, this has been your secret ever since?" he asked a hint of awe in his voice.

you gave a small smile. "yeah. helps me get through the day without falling apart."

beomgyu nodded, understanding clear in his eyes. "guess we have more in common than i thought."

you fell into an easy conversation, talking about the things that kept you awake at night – the pressure of school, the nagging feeling of never doing enough, the weight of unsaid words hanging heavy in the air. as you were speaking, a heavy silence fell upon the room.

glancing over at beomgyu, you found him slumped against the wall, eyes closed. his normally messy hair seemed even more tousled, and a faint line creased his brow. a small, surprised laugh escaped your lips. here he was, the infamous beomgyu, the guy who seemed to effortlessly glide through life, sound asleep beside you.

a pang of sympathy stabbed at you. maybe his effortless facade wasn't so effortless after all.

shifting carefully, you made yourself a little more comfortable on the makeshift bed. your movements were limited, but you managed to prop yourself up with a pillow. stealing another glance at beomgyu, you noticed the slight rise and fall of his chest, a testament to his deep sleep.

hesitantly, you reached out a hand, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. the gesture felt oddly intimate, yet strangely comforting.

suddenly, beomgyu's head bobbed forward, landing with a soft thud on your shoulder. your breath hitched. in all the years you'd dreamt of sharing this place, a moment of vulnerability, you hadn't imagined it playing out like this.

a blush crept up your cheeks, but before you could react, a tired sigh escaped beomgyu's lips. your options were limited. you could wake him, but he looked so peaceful, so utterly exhausted.

with a resigned sigh, you carefully adjusted yourself, trying to find a comfortable position with his head on your shoulder. the dust motes danced in the afternoon sunbeams, casting playful shadows around the room. despite the unconventional situation, a sense of drowsiness washed over you.

perhaps, just for a little while, getting some sleep wasn't such a bad idea.

soon, your own head was lying atop beomgyu's, and for the first time in a long while, you felt the edges of sleep pulling you in

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

the rusty lock creaked open, jolting you and beomgyu awake. a wave of relief washed over you as soobin, his face etched with amusement, stepped inside.

"looks like i got here just in time," soobin said, his grin widening.

a blush crept up your neck, mirroring the one blooming on beomgyu’s face. relief and a touch of sheepishness washed over you both as you scrambled to your feet, disentangling yourselves in a flurry of fumbled apologies.

stepping out of the dusty observatory and back into the sunlight, your eyes landed on a glint of silver of a pen peeking out from soobin's id holder. a playful idea sparked in your mind.

"hey soobin," you said, "can i borrow that pen for a second?"

without a second thought, soobin unclipped the pen and handed it over. you quickly scribbled something on your palm.

"high five?" you asked beomgyu, extending your hand.

beomgyu, still dazed from his unexpected nap, met your hand with a puzzled slap. the wet ink transferred, and as his eyes landed on his palm, his eyes widened curiously, your number, neatly written, stared back at him.

"only for you!" you called out, a rush of excitement propelling you down the stairs.

soobin watched you go, then glanced at his now empty hand. "she didn't give me back my pen," he remarked, shaking his head with a smile.

beomgyu chuckled, a warm feeling blossoming in his chest. he stared at the number on his hand, the day's events replaying in his mind. maybe the nap hadn't been so bad after all.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

a few days later

beomgyu sat in the nurse’s office, his gaze fixed on the floor. a fresh bandage felt stiff and itchy against his cheek, a reminder of the throbbing ache beneath. he barely acknowledged the nurse as she tended to his wound, too tired and frustrated to engage in conversation.

"looks like someone walked face-first into a door," the nurse remarked, her voice laced with a knowing amusement that made beomgyu clench his jaw. he mumbled a noncommittal reply, his eyes darting to the chipped paint on the wall opposite him, anywhere but the concern etched on the nurse's face.

"you must have some bad luck to end up at the clinic right before the school festival, huh?" the nurse remarked, her tone light and conversational.

"yeah, i guess so," beomgyu replied dully, still not looking up.

the nurse, ms. yura, noticed the tired bags under his eyes as she swirled her coffee in her cup. "you know, they say 1 out of 3 people in korea struggle with some kind of sleeping disorder," she commented, her voice taking on a more serious tone. "they know sleep is important and feel pressured to get some, which leads to stress building up. it's a vicious cycle."

beomgyu finally looked up, his expression guarded. "i never said i had trouble sleeping and isn't stress just... i don't know... part of life?"

ms. yura sipped her coffee, considering his words. "there's a 6-second period where your anger peaks when triggered by stress. if you can shut it down in that moment, your anger will subside. you know, sometimes taking a deep breath and counting to ten can really help." her voice held a knowing quality that made beomgyu squirm in his seat

just then, the clinic door swung open, and you strode in, groaning dramatically. "ms. yura~, i got hit by a ball," you whined, rubbing your arm with an exaggerated pout. you stopped short when you saw beomgyu sitting there, and they stared at each other in surprise.

the nurse chuckled awkwardly, glancing between you. "so, you two know each other, huh?"

you quickly looked away, feeling a flush of embarrassment. beomgyu, on the other hand, just sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and oddity about this unexpected encounter.

after ms. yura tended to your minor injury, the two of you left the clinic together, an unusual silence hanging between you.

you walked ahead, happily skipping along. beomgyu trailed behind, his shoulders slumped and a faint grimace playing on his lips, a stark contrast to your sunny mood. you turned back to face him, walking backward with a bright smile. "soo... what happened to your face?" you asked, concern flickering in your eyes.

beomgyu mumbled something inaudible, his gaze fixed firmly on the ground. you tilted your head, urging him to explain further.

"ugh, fine," he sighed, resignation flickering across his features. "some jerk accidentally hit me with a ball," beomgyu replied, his tone flat.

your eyes widened in surprise. "so you hit him back?" the question tumbled out before you could filter it, curiosity bubbling over.

beomgyu shrugged, his expression hardening. "he refused to apologize then i hit him," he muttered, scuffing his shoe against the ground.

you let out a small laugh, shaking your head. "uh, okay then." you decided to switch the topic. "i haven't seen you since that one time. did you get over your sleeplessness?"

beomgyu let out a tired sigh. "no. i was in the middle of a yawn when the ball hit me."

you nodded in understanding. "same here. i haven't slept well in a week. you wanna come to the observatory today?"

beomgyu hesitated, his mind racing. the observatory was a great spot to sleep, but he wasn't sure how to handle... well, you. you were so open and cheerful, the complete opposite of his introverted nature. on top of that, there was the added complication of your smile. it had a way of disarming him, making him feel things he wasn't quite ready to unpack. "well... i'm not sure," he admitted.

you stopped in your tracks, turning to face him with a serious expression. "i need you, beomgyu. because i can't sleep."

the silence stretched, thick with unspoken urgency and beomgyu felt a strange mix of emotions. it was a feeling he wasn't used to. that strange fluttering in his chest? probably just the adrenaline of a near heart attack.

"alright," he said finally, nodding. "i'll come."

your face lit up with a grateful smile, and you continued skipping ahead, humming a cheerful tune. beomgyu followed behind, what did he get himself into?

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

beomgyu made his way to the observatory, his heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and exhaustion. as he climbed the twirly staircase, he was greeted by your head peeping at the top of the staircase.

"oh! you're here!" you called out, a bright smile lighting up your face.

beomgyu nodded, trying to muster a smile in return. "yeah, i'm here."

you made your way to one of the old cabinets in the corner of the room, patting its side with a determined look. "alright! down to business!"

beomgyu got the memo and dropped his bag on the floor, rolling up his sleeves. he walked over to the cabinet, glancing at you. "you want me to help move this?"

"yup," you said cheerfully. "we need to get it down the stairs and out of the way."

beomgyu sighed inwardly. 'damnit, she only asked me to come to help with the labor,' he thought, but he didn't voice his complaint. 'come on, beomgyu,' he scolded himself. 'heavy furniture, not heavy flirting.'

instead, he straightened his back and focused on the practicalities. ducking under the bulky cabinet, he grabbed a side, silently vowing to channel his nervous energy into pure muscle power. across from him, you mirrored his stance.

you grunted with effort, inching the heavy cabinet down the first step. "be careful of the stairs, okay?" you reminded beomgyu, whose back was straining under the weight on his end.

"yeah, yeah," he muttered, eyes narrowed in concentration as he walked backward down the steps. the old wood creaked ominously beneath their combined weight.

you struggled with the weight of the cabinet, both of you straining against the heavy wood. beomgyu felt his arms beginning to shake, the strain quickly becoming too much.

"wait, wait!!" he suddenly yelled, panic rising in his voice. "too heavy, put it down! down!"

"no! it's okay! we can make it!" you responded, your voice strained but determined.

"no, no!" beomgyu insisted, his voice breaking with urgency. "i seriously can't!"

despite your best efforts, the weight of the cabinet became unbearable. you both let go at the same time, the cabinet crashing down the stairs with a thunderous bang, echoing through the empty observatory. both of you stumbled back, breathing heavily and looking at each other with wide eyes.

"well," you said, trying to catch your breath. "that didn't go as planned."

beomgyu shook his head, letting out a half-hearted laugh. "yeah, no kidding."

you stood there for a moment, both of you panting and staring at the now slightly damaged cabinet lying at the bottom of the stairs.

"i don't know why you wanted to clean up so much, all you're gonna do here is sleep," beomgyu remarked, trying to lighten the mood.

"but we have to make enough space for the both of us, no?" you replied with a teasing smile. "plus, if you manage to get some rest here from time to time, then you might spend less time being a grouch."

beomgyu let out a chuckle. "i guess so."

your expression softened as you looked at him. "say, beomgyu, how did you spend your long and boring nights?"

"i used to kill time by looking at stuff on my phone, but i quit after reading that led displays can mess with your sleep," beomgyu said, pausing for a moment. "so i started doing stuff like reading books and listening to the radio... but even when i got to bed, my mind would just wander for hours until morning eventually came."

suddenly, you perked up. "getting depressed about lack of sleep and worrying about a bunch of problems we can't solve..."

you pushed yourself to your feet, the gentle creak of the floorboards chipping. walking towards a seemingly innocuous lever near the observatory deck, you gestured for beomgyu to follow. "let’s make things fun" your voice tinged with enthusiasm. "whether we have a good time or a bad one, the morning sun's still gonna be the same,"

turning your back on him, you reached for the lever. with a satisfying whirring sound, the entire roof dome of the observatory groaned into motion, slowly peeling back to reveal a breathtaking vista. the sky, once tinged with the remnants of sunset, was now a breathtaking tapestry woven with a million stars. the vast expanse, sprinkled with celestial diamonds, stretched out before you, an invitation to lose yourself in its infinite depths.

you turned your back, looking up at the sky of twinkling hues. "let's revive the astronomy club."

beomgyu stared at you, the beauty of the sunset mirrored in his eyes. the sense of purpose and camaraderie he felt in that moment was something he hadn't experienced in a long time. he nodded slowly, a smile forming on his lips. "yeah, let's do it."

you beamed at him, your liveliness infectious. "great! we'll start by cleaning up this place and making it a proper clubroom again."

beomgyu sighed, glancing back at the cabinet. "but let's take a break before we move that thing again."

you laughed. "agreed. come on, let's take a seat and enjoy the view for a bit."

you sat down side by side, looking up at the sky through the open dome. the sense of peace and companionship you shared in that moment was a welcome respite from your usual sleepless nights.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

the city of yeosu had transformed into a canvas bathed in the cool hues of twilight. the once vibrant streets, normally teeming with daytime energy, had surrendered to a quiet languor. the only sounds that dared to pierce the stillness were the soft hum of distant traffic lights and the occasional rustle of a breeze whispering secrets through the trees. streetlights cast long, dramatic shadows, their gentle glow illuminating a city settling into a peaceful slumber. even the usual neon signs, usually vying for attention, seemed to have dimmed their vibrancy, creating a scene painted in shades of twilight blues and inky blacks.

high-rise buildings, once bastions of bustling activity, now stood as silent sentinels, their windows like scattered stars, each holding a story of its own. some windows remained dark, reflecting the serenity of the night, while others, adorned with a warm glow, hinted at pockets of life within. these illuminated windows paint a picture of solitude, each one a portal into a private world where dreams danced, or perhaps anxieties kept sleepless company.

you and beomgyu had agreed to meet on the bridge after the city curfew, but both of you were still wide awake and had nothing better to do. the bridge, a favorite local spot, offered a picturesque view of the canal flowing underneath and the moonlight reflecting off the water’s surface. as beomgyu approached the meeting point, he saw you already there, skipping along the bridge's edge, your movements carefree and light.

a nervous chuckle escaped beomgyu's lips. "i can't believe we're actually doing this," he confessed, his voice a low rumble that barely carried over the gentle lapping of water against the bridge's pilings. a mix of excitement and apprehension warred within him, a knot of butterflies churning in his stomach.

"ohh?" you teased, turning to face him with a playful grin. "i had a nervous fit when i snuck out of my house, but i've always wanted to do this! just walking around town at night." you gestured towards the city sprawled out before you "just imagine," you continued, your voice hushed with a thrill, "the entire city practically to ourselves!"

as you admire the buildings, their outlines softened by the dim glow of the streetlights. "so! where do you wanna go? should we just follow the canal down the river?"

beomgyu shook his head, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips despite his nerves. "no, it's safer to walk through the districts since it would give us more places to hide if someone spots us."

"good point," y/n agreed, and they started walking through the quiet districts of yeosu.

the night unfolded like a storybook, each page filled with unexpected delights. you were a whirlwind, your contagious energy propelling you forward with an almost reckless abandon. you’d dart ahead, your laughter echoing through the quiet streets, only to abruptly halt, your figure framed by a splash of moonlight, as you realized you’d outpaced your companion.

beomgyu would smile, shaking his head fondly as he caught up. the rhythmic tap of his shoes on the pavement provided a steady counterpoint to the city's hushed symphony. you navigated the labyrinth of alleyways and backstreets, your footsteps echoing softly, each reverberation of the sleeping city.

along your journey, you stumbled upon hidden gems: a quaint bookstore with its windows a mosaic of forgotten stories, a tiny park where a lone bench offered a serene respite from the urban hustle, and a charming café that seemed to defy the night's slumber with its inviting glow. it was in front of one such café that you found yourselves captivated. through the large glass windows, a tantalizing display of pastries beckoned, a masterpiece of sugary artistry. each treat was a miniature work of edible art, its perfect form and vibrant colors a testament to the baker's skill. your mouths watered as they imagined the taste of those flaky croissants and creamy éclairs.

at a vending machine, you decided to treat beomgyu to some drinks, a small gesture of thanks for his company on this impromptu adventure.

with coins slotted in, you selected two cans, the machine's gears whirring to life. a tense silence filled the air as you waited for the coveted drop. then, with a jarring clang, two aluminum cans tumbled down the chute, their impact echoing through the narrow space.

you both jumped, your hearts pounding in your chests. a wave of embarrassment washed over you, your eyes darting around to ensure no one had witnessed your clumsy moment. thankfully, the alley remained deserted, the only sound of your rapid breathing.

as you continued walking, you noticed beomgyu's bag. it hung awkwardly from his shoulder, its contents seemingly heavy. “hey, what’s in the bag? it looks full,” you asked, curiosity piqued.

"oh, my bag?" beomgyu replied. "it's just a camera with a tripod."

"a camera? why?" you asked, curious.

a sheepish grin spread across beomgyu’s face. “well, you know, just in case we get caught,” he said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “we can say we’re part of the photography club or something. maybe they’ll let us off with a warning." beomgyu explained, taking the camera out of the bag.

"but wouldn't taking pictures at night makes us seem like some kind of creepers?" y/n teased, making beomgyu freeze up.

he hadn't thought of it that way. "oh, i didn't consider that..."

“so, is photography your hobby or something?” y/n asked, her curiosity reignited.

"no, it's just a present my dad randomly gave me for christmas," beomgyu said, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. "back when i was in 5th grade, i really wanted this one game console, so i cried and made a big deal out of it when he gave me this instead."

y/n giggled again, making beomgyu crack a smile. "what's so funny?" he asked.

"nothing, just... you crying over gifts is hilarious," y/n replied.

beomgyu grinned. “hey, i was just a kid,” he defended himself playfully. “what about you? what were you like?”

a thoughtful expression crossed your face. “i was pretty frail as a kid,” you began, your voice soft. “spent a lot of time in the hospital. had to learn how to build up my stamina.” your tone was light, but the words carried a weight that surprised beomgyu.

"hospitalized?" beomgyu said, concern in his voice.

"mhm," y/n replied

just then, beomgyu stopped in his tracks, making y/n look back. a distant metallic click echoed in the night, followed by the rhythmic cadence of rubber against the pavement. heart pounding, beomgyu turned to see the source of the noise: a lone police officer, his bicycle casting a long, ominous shadow as he pedaled toward them.

quickly, beomgyu and y/n found shelter at a bus stop, ducking to avoid being spotted. the officer, as if sensing their presence, slowed his pace. the beam of his flashlight swept the area, its light growing brighter with each passing second. y/n's breath caught in her throat as the light drew closer, inching dangerously close to their hiding spot. beomgyu's grip on her hand tightened, his body shielding her as much as possible.

then, as suddenly as it had begun, the ordeal ended. the flashlight passed over their heads, its beam disappearing into the darkness. a sigh of relief escaped beomgyu's lips, his body relaxing slightly. y/n's grip on his shirt loosened, but she remained frozen in place, her mind racing.

"he's gone," beomgyu whispered, his voice hoarse with relief. his eyes, wide with fear just moments ago, now held a flicker of resolve. "we have to move."

back on their way to the riverside, y/n picked up their previous conversation. "back to our conversation, i'm totally okay now!" she said with a grin. "i did gymnastics which made me super flexible, but since i was so frail as a kid, i was averse to being a burden. that's why i really don't want anyone to know about my lack of sleep."

beomgyu stared at her, admiration in his eyes as she looked over the river. when she lifted her gaze from the water to the stars, beomgyu followed her gaze.

"you know, maybe being sleepless isn't so bad if you get to see beautiful scenes like this," y/n said softly.

beomgyu nodded, wishing he could capture the moment forever. then he realized he could. he pulled out his camera from its bag. first, he focused his lens on the celestial canvas above. the camera captured the myriad of stars, each one a tiny diamond scattered across the velvet expanse.

next, he turned his attention to the moon, its ethereal glow casting an enchanting spell over the world below. then, the river, a shimmering silver serpent winding its way through the night, became the subject of his lens.

as he took photos, his lens suddenly caught you in the frame. your silhouette is outlined by the soft moonlight. without thinking, he pressed the shutter, capturing you in a moment of grace. it was a candid shot, but when the camera clicked, you noticed and struck a pose, making beomgyu chuckle as he continued taking photos of you.

the night slowly gave way to dawn, and the first light of sunrise painted the sky in hues of gold and pink. you now sat on the edge of the bridge, your feet dangling over the side.

"morning is here," you chirped.

"that figures. now i'm sleepy," beomgyu replied, yawning. you both yawned in unison, then shared a giggle.

up until recently, you hadn't talked to each other at all. but now, here you were exploring the town at night together. when you were around, all the boring and sleepless nights became exciting and beomgyu couldn't help but wonder what kind of relationship this was becoming.

as the sun's shine glared on them, you skipped ahead and called out, "this is my house! thanks for walking me home."

beomgyu nodded, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. instead of the usual goodbye, he offered a playful grin. "see you today," he said, his voice filled with a newfound lightness. you returned his smile, your eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and something deeper.

you both laughed, knowing you had class in just a few hours. despite the lack of sleep, the night had brought them closer, and for the first time in a long time, they felt a sense of companionship that made their sleepless nights a little less lonely.

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hoeforhao · 2 years ago

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🌙 Fated Under The Rain ☆ Wonwoo Oneshot ☆

↝ pairing: ex boyfriend! wonwoo × fem! reader

↝ genre: explicit language, smut with little plot, minors dni!!!!!! mutual pining but mainly from wonwoo, fluff, slight humor, overall nothing heavy just a small sensual drabble.

↝ warnings: unprotected sex(wrap it up kids), creampie, breast play, fingering, marking. Tell me if I missed any!

↝ summary: will offering lift to the man who left you in pieces amidst heavy rain lead to something your heart has been craving for months?

↝ word count: 2k(am sorry😭)

↝ author's note: was driving back home yesterday while it was literally pouring down outside, my favorite song playing on spotify and all i could think of instead focusing on the road was this plot!

Lemme know if you enjoyed the drabble! Feedbacks always make me feel warm♡

Permanent taglist : @feat-sun @joonsytip

Amidst the rain seeping it's path down the glass panels, the heaven clan's haze shielding your view from the mundane maneuver of the blurred out world, your glistening beads have found their long craved spot onto the tall, broad shouldered man standing by the signal, hair and shirt completely soaked up from the pouring skies, while his eyes were desperately searching for a way back - was it to his brick stoned house or his lost home?

"Going back home?" thrusting on the clutch and then the brake to bring your car to a halt at the blinking bloody lights, you roll down the passenger side's window as a way to offer some sort of help to the seemingly distressed man on top of the pavement.

A familiar voices grazes wonwoo's ears as his eyes shoot up in anticipation,looking for the owner of the claimed voice, only to land them on you. Did rain cloud his vision? Cuz there's no way that you were now parked beside him, asking whether he's struggling to get back home or not.

"Y-yes" the older nervously scratches the back of his head, not sure of what to say to the person he has pained so deep.

"I can drop you off, if you don't mind obviously" only you knew how hard it was for you to maintain an indifferent composure before the one man you've cared for and treasured so dearly, being fully aware of the fact that he's highly sensitive to rainwater; 'typical cat behavior' you laugh at yourself!

"No its fine. I'll find a cab soon" wonwoo tries to be as polite as possible, even though every vein of his body wants to jump into the car right now.

"I've been watching you clawing onto your scalp in frustration for the past 30 minutes and you think i'll still believe in your 'will find a cab soon'?" you genuinely didn't realise when the old habits took over the new persona and you started acting as the protective girlfriend you were, visualizing that one time he fell severely ill for days after getting poured onto on his way to the office; a memory you never wanna revisit ever again.

"Hop on quick if you don't wanna end up amongst the white walls for the second time!! Only 10 seconds are left to go" eyes quickly deviating towards the beeping timer of the signal, while you shift up the gear and slowly start bringing up your feet off the floor, ready to drive out as soon as the light turns green.

All of wonwoo's self control leave his body seeing the same old care flash by on his lost lover's face, as he swiftly pulls onto the door's latch, positioning his nearly drenched body onto the leather seats.

The defeaning silence between the two past kins were filled by wonwoo's occasional glances at the strong independent lady sitting beside him and the radio playing your favorite songs, those which you constantly looped onto spotify throughout the entire spell of your heart longing for wonwoo.

Looks like even the gods are against you today as a warm wet hand lands on yours that were stationed onto the gear beside. As much as you wanted to engulf those palms into yours instantly and never let them go, you knew quite well that he was now not yours, not your to claim, not your to hold onto. Thus the only thing you could do was keep your eyes fixed onto the slippery road infront and drive him home safe.

But the heavens knew better. Your plans were currently going for a battle with you as wonwoo kept on grazing his soft gentle digits onto the back of your hand, everytime you shifted them to change the gear, drawing small circles on them occasionally.

The sensation now reaching the threshold of your body, making your skin call for the touch of his lips and your insides craving the warmth of his body, it was time for you to slow down your car by a deserted road and park the black shiny carrier under the moonlight.

"What do you want wonwoo?" a stern yet begging pair of eyes turns towards the passenger seat, where the big man was resting his wet body on.

"I miss you y/n. I've always missed you" wonwoo now completely engulfs your palms into his, squeezing them hard from the anticipation of what's about to come his way. "Can...can i feel you for one last time, pls?"

You see the desperation behind those black boba balls, the way those droplets of tears are being held captive in the backroom; besides it was gradually getting hard to ignore the pained screams of your body to feel him beneath you. Abandoning all the huff,anger, hurt that made their home in you for so long, you fleetly jumped out from the driver's seat while pushing back wonwoo's to make enough space for you on his lap.

Startled by the sudden presence of your wet clothed cunt over the tent in his tight jeans, wonwoo's body jolts up in the heat flowing through him, dulling his morals and senses as he only wants to fuck the life out of you right now ; and he shows no delay in his endeavor as he clings his mouth onto your neck like a beast deprived of his meal for months, loitering the supple skin beneath with his marks.

"I missed you so fuckin much y/n" he whispers into your nape, hands roaming up your waist, under your satin shirt, caressing the soft pillowy tummy he has always preferred laying on, pawing onto your boobs over the black lacey bra you wore to work, for lord knows what reasons; while his lips now clutched themselves to your plumpy vanilla lips.

"May I, please?" there's literally not a single person on the earth who can say no to those pleasing kitty eyes. So you just hummed against the kiss - not a passionate one but a longing one; wonwoo's lips were moving on yours in such insatiable hunger that it seemed like he wanted to imprint the taste onto his mouth forever, who knows if he'll ever get to feel them again....as if his lips have finally found their twin flame they've been craving for months now!

One single go signal from you and wonwoo wasted no time in tugging onto the buttons of your flowy shirt, ripping them open in just a matter of seconds. His eyes lit up like an excited puppy upon seeing your bare skin, glowing under the moonlit rainy sky....oh how he has missed this sight of yours so much, you whimpering on him, all vulnerable and begging for his touch against your heated core.

"Fuck you're still so sweet my love" he moans into your jiggly soft boobs, mouth fixed onto one of your hardened nipples, while he pawed at the other one.

The words 'my love' from the mouth of the one your heart still belongs to, still craves for and still wants to be claimed by, does no good in controlling the dripping from your already soaked pussy, as you start roughly grinding against his clothed length.

"Hmmm so impatient for my cock, aren't you pretty baby" a wide smirk creeping it's way onto wonwoo's face as he notices you getting impatient to feel him inside you. Finding it exciting and a prideful moment for him, the hand that was kneading onto your doughy mounds now trails down to your panties under the very convenient skirt your were harboring ; drawing his cold fingers over your sensitive clothed clit sending your head thrown against the windshield of your car.

"Pls..pls stop teasing and fuck me already wonu" you were yourself amazed at how desperate you seemed for his cock in your throbbing pussy.

"But I don't have a condom sweetheart" wonwoo knew absolutely well that you didn't give a damn about having unprotected sex with him as he smirked onto the skin around your nipples, teasing your wet sticky fold with his free fingers ; pulling out a string of slick from your pussy infront of you, he proudly shows you how much of a slut you're for his touch.

"You..ahh...you think...I....shit...fuckin care about having a condom right now? Just go in raw please....haven't felt your cock in me....for so long....fuck" lord if anyone ever got near to the black beauty parked on the roadside and heard the lewd sounds escaping your lips, they would surely be traumatized for days, but that was the least of your concerns now.

"As my princess wishes" and with that wonwoo quickly moves his limbs towards his pants, shoving down the chain of his trousers in the flick of an eye, while he finally releases his strained hard cock from its restraints, precum leaking down its tip as he tries to slightly palm down the pain before sheathing them into your walls.

"Just as tight as I left it" he growls onto your neck as his cock now thrusts into your slick walls at a inhumane pace, as if he slowly down, he'll forever lose the warmth of this pussy. "Fitting me so well into the mould u created only for me to fill"

The rain outside and the haze of all the juices leaking from the two bodies inside the car, creates a mystical world bounded within the tinted glasses of the vehicle, while wonwoo keeps on fucking you dumb onto his lap.

"I...I'm near wonw-- ah fuck" you lose control over your core muscles at the sensation of wonwoo's tip hitting your womb, as your core's glistening cream paints his black jeans white ; not to mention you were now embarrassed at the fact that he has to go home with such stained pants....or maybe not-

"My pretty little whore, so glowy after ruining my new jeans huh" you can feel wonwoo's pace slowing down a bit, knowing quite well what's about to follow. "Lemme return the favor and ruin your insides, ruin your pussy so that no one can get to bury themselves in you, except me.....only my hole to fuck"

Wonwoo's body falls limp onto the headrest of the seat as he shoots his entire load into you, cock still moving amongst your walls, fucking his seeds deep inside you.

"Can i have another chance, please?" wonwoo finally looks you into your pleasure coated eyes while shifting you on his lap to wrap your arms around his neck, resting his sweat forehead onto yours.

"At what? Fucking me?" you were seemingly confused at his words as you didn't think he would be wanting anything else other than sex, after how he let go off your hand in the middle of you two's promised path, 8 months ago.

"No...no...at l-loving you, pls" his voice suddenly portrays a cast of regret and pain, "I know I fucked up, I hurt the one I've loved with all my might all this time. I...I could never get you out of my head y/n, my eyes and my heart kept looking for you at every corner of my messed up life. Pls, will you give your catto one last chance?" something unexpected rolled down wonwoo's cheeks and it was none other than tear drops. Was...was he really crying for you, begging you back into his arms again?

"This time if you leave, I'll make sure to castrate you, so that you can't ever get a girl around you after me" you laugh onto his skin while placing a gentle kiss on his forehead, your fingers wiping off the dried out tears on his cheeks.

"I'll happily place my dick under your guillotine, my highness" wonwoo hasn't felt this happy since months, heart fluttering at the thought of walking beside you again, fingers locked into one another's.

Your heart swells looking at the misty scene outside, remembering how the first time you two decided to date, it was raining cats and dogs as you were pulling him under a tree to sheath yourselves from the rain...and now when the skies decided to grant you another chance at healing your soul with the one you loved, it's raining heavily - again!!!

"Eh but what about your pants wonu, how will you go home with these...ummm...stains" a genuine question you've been dying to ask him, as you surely don't have a change for men's jeans in your car.

"Who said we are going home baby"

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nightlyrequiem · 8 months ago

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Hii, so first i wanted to say that i LOVE your storys. I have already read everything twice ITS SO GOOD. I wanted to ask if you could do maybe a oneshot where Valeria comforts you because you can't sleep??? You can add ofcourse some things too :) thank youu

Hii! Thank you so much for the kind words, they're much appreciated! I'm really glad you like my work :)

That's such a lovely idea. I wish I had my own Valeria to comfort me when I can't sleep.

Tags/Warnings: Fluff, comfort, minor insomnia

Counting Sheep

You've been lying in bed for hours now. Eyes closed and in the same position as before in the hopes that you'd finally sleep at a reasonable time. You don't even feel remotely close to sleep though, unlike Valeria, who is dead asleep next to you and snoring softly. You open your eyes to look up at the dark ceiling, just barely visible from the moonlight peeking in through the cracks of the blinds. Valeria shifts in her sleep and you look over at her. Her dark hair looks even darker splayed against the contrasting white of her pillow You feel envious over how easy it is for her to do something as simple as sleep.

You sigh and rub your eyes, then move onto your side to curl up next to her. Maybe a position switch is what will do the trick. You scoot closer to her, your face next to hers. You're so close that her breath softly hits you in the face with each exhale. You readjust the covers over you and close your eyes. Hoping that sleep will come soon.

It doesn't. You briefly float through small periods of unconsciousness but it's not enough. The room slowly but surely grows lighter with the approaching day. Valeria's alarm goes off but she's quick to silence it. Letting out a tired groan as she sits up and stretches. You know there will be no hope of sleeping now so you sit up as well. Feeling depleted and frustrated. Valeria looks over to you and smiles softly. Despite being a hardened, bloodthirsty criminal, she's surprisingly gentle with you. she looks at you like you're the most precious thing in the world, something that lured you in at the beginning.

She places a hand on the side of your head to pull you in so she can press a loving kiss to your temple.

"Morning." Valeria mumbles. You watch her get out of bed and sluggishly move around the room, getting ready. She rummages around in the closet until she finds a suitable shirt. "Did you sleep last night?" She asks. You've been having issues sleeping for the past few days and Valeria has done her best to support you through it. You debate on telling her the truth, not wanting to stress her out any more than she already is. When it comes to lying, she's like a bloodhound. It's best to tell the truth.

"No." You mutter.

Valeria pulls her shirt on and frowns at you.

"That's not good." She says sympathetically. She walks over to you, her bare feet making no sound on the soft carpet. "I'll pick you up some melatonin on my way home later." You grimace.

"I don't like taking melatonin." You murmur. "I always have such awful dreams when I take it." Valeria grabs your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze.

"I know." She replies. "But you can't keep going on like this, I'm starting to get worried." You are too.

You frown.

"Can we wait a little longer before resorting to that?" You ask. You don't want to have to rely on sleeping pills, but you might have to if your issues keep up. You hope this insomnia isn't permanent.

"... Alright." Valeria agrees reluctantly. She squeezes your hand again before pulling away and walking out of the bedroom. Presumably to the bathroom. Since you're awake you may as well start getting ready for work. You get out of bed and have to lean against the wall after getting hit by a wave of dizziness. Hopefully just a symptom of your lack of sleep and not another problem for you to deal with.

You feel groggy and disoriented while you go about making yourself presentable for work. You try to make yourself toast but end up burning it. You hate to waste food, but it has more in common with charcoal than bread, so you're forced to throw it out. Your inability to perform such a basic task like making breakfast deeply upsets you. You take a few moments to breath to prevent yourself from bursting into tears. No point in crying over spilled milk, or in this case burnt bread.

You probably shouldn't be driving when you're so sleep deprived. Twice you almost hit another car when switching lanes. At work, you're slow. You drop a few items when trying to ring someone up at the cash register and utter a few quiet, embarrassed apologies. The day drags on slowly. Of course, when it's mid-day and you can't sleep do you start nodding off standing behind the till. You're so relieved when the day finally ends, and you can go home. If you don't sleep tonight, you're definitely taking the day off tomorrow. You cannot do this again.

You make it home without breaking any traffic laws or causing an accident. Valeria is already home. Standing in the kitchen cooking something that smells wonderful. You take your shoes off and join her. Peering over her shoulder at the sizzling delicacy in a pan.

"Bit early for supper, no?" You ask, grabbing her waist.

"Eating earlier can help with falling asleep." Valeria hums. You nod. A little surprised and skeptical.

Hours later you begin to settle into bed, feeling exhausted and hoping that means you'll actually get to sleep tonight. Valeria is already nestled into bed. Winding down with a book. You cuddle up to her and place your head on her chest. Her heartbeat acting as a lullaby. You teeter on the edge of unconsciousness, so close yet never crossing the line. Valeria eventually puts her book down and turns off her lamp.

Her breathing slows but yours doesn't. Once again, you're left to lay still without any relief. You aren't sure how much time has passed but you're still awake. Sleep deprivation and frustration is making you touchy and high strung. The tears come slowly and softly. Delicately running down the side of your face and soaking into Valeria's shirt. You shudder lightly as you cry, not wanting to wake Valeria. Your attempts prove to be futile as she begins to stir.

"Mija?" She murmurs, her voice still thick with sleep.

"Sorry." You whisper, voice breaking. "I didn't mean to wake you."

Valeria shifts so that she's sitting up.

"You still can't sleep?" Her voice is full of concern. You bury your face into her chest, feeling absolutely miserable.

"No." You feel like a baby for crying but you can't help it. Valeria cups the back of your head and holds you close to her. Letting you cry it out.

"It's okay, it's okay." She soothes. "We'll figure this out. I promise." You know she means it. Valeria would go to the ends of the Earth for you if she thought it would make you happy.

"I'm sorry." You sob quietly. You feel like such a nuisance.

"Shh." She whispers. "Don't be sorry. Don't ever be sorry." The hand not on your head rests itself on your back, moving up and down in a soothing motion.

Valeria is unbelievably patient with you. Letting you wake her up with your crying and still comforting you after. She'd be a saint, if it weren't for all the bad things she's done.

"I'll make you some tea and read to you." She says quietly. Gently maneuvering you off of her.

"No, I don't want to keep you up." You protest, feeling guilty but Valeria shakes her head.

"Don't bother, I'm doing this whether you want me to or not." She says firmly before walking out of the bedroom and into the dark hallway.

Valeria comes back a few minutes later, a hot cup Valerian Root tea in her hand. She places it down on your nightstand and turns on the lamp. Valeria situates herself in the middle of the bed and hold out an arm to invite you to lay down on her. You accept the invitation and lay yourself on her chest again while she picks up her book. You take a few sips of her tea while she reads to you. Her voice is low and relaxing and without realizing it, you begin to finally fall sleep.

#cod mw2 #valeria garza x reader #valeria garza

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pastshadows · 1 year ago

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Shadows of the Past

Chapter 1: Abandonment

Summary: After a year of blissful cohabitation, Astarion disappears without a trace, leaving behind a heartfelt letter explaining his departure. Determined to find him, you traverse Faerûn in search of your lost love, only to realize that some absences are meant to be permanent.

Returning to Waterdeep, you find solace in the company of Gale as you come to terms with Astarion's absence. But just as you begin to heal, Astarion reappears, begging for a second chance at love.

The question looms: can you forgive his abandonment and trust him once more? As you grapple with your emotions and trauma, a sinister force lurks in the shadows, targeting you for unknown reasons.

With danger closing in, you must navigate the treacherous waters of trust, love, and betrayal to uncover the truth behind the mysterious entity's motives. Will you be able to reunite with Astarion while facing the demons of your past? Can you unravel the secrets that threaten your very existence?

Setting: Post End-Game. Mostly canon compliant.

Word Count: 6.3K

Content: Explicit - intended for mature audiences.

Warnings: [Additional tags will be added, but expect mature content / read at your own risk.

Spoilers. Mentions of in-game missable content. Violence. Longing. Sexual themes. Blood drinking. Angst. Innuendos. High use of sarcasm. Completely fabricated camp interactions.

Astarion parts your legs with his knee and lowers his lips to yours in a hungry kiss. Your hand sweeps gently up the creamy skin of his side, and you revel in its familiar chill. The tips of your fingers gently brush the edges of the raised scars on his back.

Astarion stills under your touch at once, his muscles going taught as he clenches his jaw.

Fuck.

You pull back to look at him. His eyes are squeezed tightly closed, and his brows knit together in a pained grimace.

“Astarion?”

He sighs, “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. Too much for today?”

“Yes,” he whispers as shifts from his position between your thighs, sitting upright on the bed.

He runs his fingers through the silvery curls of his hair, frustrated. It breaks your heart every time seeing him like this.

“Hey, look at me.”

He glances back at you. Despair swirls in his crimson eyes. His mouth is set in a hard line.

“It’s okay.”

He shakes his head. His voice shakes with frustration, “But I want this, want you, all of you.”

You sit up and position yourself beside him but take care not to touch him.

“I know. Sometimes what we want doesn’t always align with what we need.”

He groans with a small smile tugging at his lips, “Stop being so nice to me.”

You giggle, “Why? Because it makes you want to be nice back?”

He smirks at the shared memory, “Precisely, my dear.”

His arm wraps around you, pulling you close up against him.

Laying your head on his shoulder, you take a deep breath and let your eyes drift closed, enjoying the intimacy.

This was an ongoing battle that you doubted would be won anytime soon if it ever could be. Astarion’s trauma still hooked its greedy claws into him. He would often initiate but would freeze up under your touch before you could make love.

“I could try…” he trails off.

You know what he’s going to offer. He always did.

“No, you beautiful, beautiful fool. That’s enough for today, but I will accept cuddles… if you’re up for it.”

He chuckles and lays back, resting his head on the feather pillow.

“Come here, darling.”

You cuddle up beside him, laying your head gently in the crook of his arm. He plants a soft kiss on your forehead.

When you look up at him, he looks a million miles away, staring at the ceiling blankly, losing himself in his thoughts.

You feel an odd unease tighten in your stomach. This happens regularly. Usually, your supportive words are enough to bring him back, but this time feels different somehow.

He breaks the silence with a desolate whisper, “Do you think I will ever get better?”

His desolate tone is heart-wrenching. You’ve got the feeling that he believes he may be irreparably broken from discussions you and him have had.

You plant a light kiss on his chest. Propping yourself up on your arm, you reach and cradle his face in your palm. His eyes drift from the ceiling down to you.

“You’re not broken, Astarion. We will get through this. Give it time.”

He nuzzles his face into your palm, seeking the comfort of your touch.

“I have an eternity, but your time is finite.”

You scoff at him. You’re a High Elf, just like him, and although 750 years may not be infinite like his, you have centuries to either find a cure for him or extend your life further. He’s well aware of this, but lately, he has been overly focused on the fact that you will die eventually.

“Exactly how old do you presume me to be, Astarion?”

It dawns on you that he never actually asked how old you were. For all he knew, half of your life was already over.

“Last time I checked, it was considered impolite to ask a lady her age.”

You can’t help yourself, and you burst out laughing. After all the things you two had been through together, and he thinks asking your age is going to, what, offend you?

Ridiculous man.

The expression on his face is a mixture of shock and puzzlement. His eyebrow is cocked up, and he stares at you quizzically.

“What’s so funny?”

You smirk, “My love, we have enraged and killed Gods, fought countless fiends, demons and devils, and felled a Netherbrain together, and you worry that you, my partner, my soul mate, my everything, asking my age is impolite?”

He grins, “Well… when you put it like that, I suppose it does seem a little ridiculous.”

“I have many centuries ahead of me, and I will spend them all with you, I hope.”

Astarion smiles, but there is something hidden in that smile, and it brings back the uneasy feeling you felt before. You can't quite place what it is.

Astarion grabs your hands and holds them, his thumbs caressing them comfortingly.

“I love you, and I will love you forever. You know that, right?”

There’s an odd urgency straining his voice as if he needs to know that you know this. That uneasy feeling blooms into pure anxiety at the urgency in his voice, the look in his eyes and even the smile on his face. Something feels wrong.

“Tell me what’s going on, Astarion. You’re starting to scare me.”

“Don’t be scared, my sweet. I just want you to know that I love you, now and forevermore.”

Your heart races inside your chest. Your stomach is in knots. Your whole body is screaming at you that something isn’t right.

You look at him and search his face for any signs that something is amiss, but you can’t see anything. He looks relaxed, if a little sad, but that isn’t unusual after he couldn’t perform.

“Shhhh, my love.” he purrs, “everything is fine.”

He rubs your back and kisses your shoulder softly, trying to comfort you. You lean into him.

“Astarion…”

“It’s okay. Everything is going to be okay.” he says in a low whisper close to your ear.

“Come, my love. Let’s lay down for a while until night falls. Once you fall asleep, I’ll slip out to go hunting.”

You lay back down with him, putting your head on his chest.

For some strange reason, be it due to your anxiety or his strange behaviour, you desperately don’t want him to go hunting, not tonight.

“You could feed on me tonight if you want?”

“As tempting an offer as that is, there is no need. There are plenty of animals in the forest.”

“I know, but you still could.”

You don’t even know why you’re pushing this so hard, but something deep down in you is frantic to keep him close.

“Not tonight, darling.”

He uses the same tone he used with that vile blood merchant at Moonrise, and you know better than to push it any further.

You try to relax back into him, but your body is buzzing with an anxiety you have not felt in some time. If only you could place it…

Astarion starts to hum your favourite tune low in his throat as he always did when you were feeling anxious while rubbing your arm with his fingers.

You slowly drift into a troubled trance.

When you wake up the next morning, Astarion is nowhere to be found. You had felt him leave to go hunting, but he never returned.

Did he get caught by someone or something? Did the sunrise take him by surprise, and he found someplace to wait it out?

He is always home well before the sun starts to creep over the horizon.

This was entirely unusual. He always returned and crawled back into bed with you.

Leaping out of bed, you throw your robe on and glance out the door. The day is cloudy and cool, and you can smell the rain. In a frantic rush, you throw your boots on and start toward the forest you know he goes hunting in most.

You wander the forest, calling out to him, but there are no traces of him. No dead carrion, no footprints, no signs of a struggle - just nothing. Your heart is hammering in your tightening chest, and you search frantically for anything that could lead you to him.

You spend the entire day wandering the forests. Even when the rain starts to pour down on you, leaving you soaked and freezing, you endure.

The darkness of night envelops the land, and you return home utterly exhausted, hoping to find him there safe and sound.

You open the door, and the little house is as dark, quiet and as empty as you left it.

You start a fire in the large stone fireplace and stand there to warm your frozen body.

Where could he have gone? Why did he go? What did I do?

You look around the little place you had shared with him for over a year.

It looks so empty without him…

A yellow-tinged envelope catches your eye, sitting on your bedside table. You must have missed it in your rush to go find him this morning.

Picking it up, a sense of dread fills you. It smells of rosemary, bergamot, and brandy. Your hands shake as they open the letter, and you slip out the neatly folded piece of paper.

Placing the envelope down, you sit on the edge of the bed, staring at the folded letter. You pray that this isn’t what you think it is, but a part of you knows it’s precisely what you fear.

Your trembling hands have trouble unfolding the parchment. It’s written in a beautiful hand.

“My Dearest Love,

My only one, I’m sorry it had to be this way. I knew I would never have the strength to say goodbye to you in person, to look into your eyes and see the hurt I’d caused. I am a coward, as I always have been.

I believe being with me is holding you back from the beautiful life and love you deserve; one I am unable to provide for you.

I love you too much to keep dragging you down into the dark.

I hope you can forgive me one day.

You made my dead heart beat anew. I could never forget you.

I love you now and forevermore.

Love always,

Astarion"

Tears slide down your reddened face and drip onto the parchment in your hand. Once you’re finished reading it, it slips from your fingers and floats to the floor.

He left me…

You curl up on the bed you had shared with him for years, breathing the scent of him that lingered on the sheets. Violent sobs wrack your body as your heart is torn asunder.

How could he do this…

You cry until your body can’t produce any more tears, and you finally drift into a grief-stricken sleep.

In the morning, you look around the little house you shared with him and realize that he had taken some of his belongings but not all of them.

How long had he been playing this?

Your once cozy home now feels cold, empty and claustrophobic. The walls feel like they are closing in on you.

What am I going to do?

You stay in that little house for a couple of weeks, hoping Astarion will change his mind and come back to you.

A useless fantasy

He never returns, but you never expected him to.

You had spent every night over the last several weeks wandering the forest surrounding the area, checking his favourite hunting spots.

In the city, you had tried searching for him in the taverns, the hostels, the flophouses, everywhere you could think of. You even followed the roads until sunrise, hoping you might bump into him.

In truth, you knew that you would never find him if he didn’t want you to, but you had to try at least.

You spend the next years searching for him in every place you can think of.

You search Baldur’s Gate and all his regular haunts.

You go back to the Underdark to see if he went there. He had talked about helping the other spawn at one point, but his siblings tell you they haven’t seen him. You even use Detect Thoughts covertly to see if they are lying to you, just in case.

You return to the Grove even though you know it’s a long shot. He wasn’t ever fond of that place.

You even search old camping spots he was particularly fond of. You doubted he would return to sleeping on the ground, but you tried anyway.

You find nothing, of course. It was as if he just disappeared from existence entirely.

Eventually, all hope fades away, and you are forced to face the fact that he’s gone and he’s not coming back.

Not knowing where else to turn, you decide to go to Waterdeep, where Gale has kindly offered that you stay with him for as long as you need to.

You start a new life there, as best you can.

Months Later

“Good morning! Can I offer you some tea?”

Gale’s overly chipper tone in the morning makes you cringe inwardly.

How could someone be this happy in the morning?

“Yes, please.”

You rub your tired eyes, yawning.

“Splendid!”

Gale places a steaming mug of herbal tea on the table, and you take it in your hands, enjoying the warmth.

“You look tired, my friend. Are nightmares still troubling you?”

Your rest is plagued by constant, unforgiving nightmares that often wake you up screaming into the dead of night.

“I’m fine. If I keep you up at night, I could move to a room further away?”

Gale’s manor was grand, of course. It had more rooms than you cared to count and all the luxuries you could ever want. Despite that, this never felt like home, even after all this time.

“There’s no need. I’m usually awake, nose buried in a good book. At least it is nothing like Wyll’s snoring. Gods.”

You both laugh at that. Wyll had snored so loud some nights that you were worried Astarion would kill him just for some peace and quiet.

“So, what’s on the docket for today?”

“Oh, I’m going to go out into the city to meet some friends.”

“That sounds like a lovely idea! I’m glad you’re making friends. I’d love to meet them.” Gale’s grins happily.

“Of course, um, one day, okay?”

“I can host a grand dinner and make them my signature dish!”

You almost choke on your tea. Gale tried, but most of his cooking was… lacklustre.

“I better go get ready then. Thank you for the tea.”

Returning to your room, you slip into a clean robe and pull on your boots before heading down the long, winding staircase.

Gale is waiting at the bottom of the stairs, “will you be home in time for dinner?”

“Oh, no, probably not. Don’t wait for me.”

“Be careful out there at night, this isn’t Baldur’s Gate, but it’s not exactly safe either,” he warns with a worried look.

You want to roll your eyes at him but stop yourself. Did he think you couldn’t take care of yourself? You had spent years roaming Faerûn looking for Astarion by yourself and only returned with a handful of new scars.

Well, ones he can see anyway.

“I’ll be careful, Gale. Thank you.”

With that, you slip out of the door into the air, chilled by the breeze coming off the sea. It was truly beautiful here… if only you could appreciate it.

You walk briskly through the busy city streets, wanting to leave them behind you as quickly as possible. Waterdeep was a busy city, and people already packed the thoroughfare going about their days.

You had spent so much time by yourself during your years searching for Astation that you had become accustomed to being alone. You were still trying to acclimatize to city life again.

Stopping at a small tavern, you buy yourself some wine.

Probably not the healthiest way to deal with my issues...

Near the outskirts of the city, you see the familiar little path that you walk almost every day. It took you to a beautiful lookout point that no one seemed to visit. It was your favourite place to be alone.

The wealthy of this city don’t want to ruin their fine boots, I suppose.

You sit on the edge of the cliff face, letting your legs hang over precariously.

What am I going to do about Gale wanting to meet these “friends” of mine

Truthfully, you’d made up these “friends” so you could get some time alone. Gale was your friend, and you enjoyed his company, but he could be overattentive at times.

The silence up here was as beautiful as the views. The noises of the city were left behind, and only the soft winds blowing through the trees could be heard.

You uncork one of the bottles and drink straight from it. You had no; how did Gale put it - ah yes, decorum.

You spend the entire day sitting up there, drowning your heartache in the only elixir that could lessen the pain in your chest and numb the void in your soul.

I can’t believe it’s been years.

You often think about the time you spent together, replaying it over and over, analyzing every interaction, every word, every touch.

What did I do wrong? Was it something I said? Something I did? Something I didn’t do? Something I didn’t say?

Tears fall from your eyes at the memories, and you wipe them away with the back of your hand.

I thought we were happy.

You watch the light of day slowly fade as the sun drops below the horizon, blanketing the city in the dullness of night.

I guess I should go back.

You stumble your way down the steep path.

Perhaps I had too much today.

Reaching the city, you walk through the now slightly less busy streets. Much of the throngs of people have retired to their homes or, more likely, the taverns of the city. You hear vivacious laughter from some of the taphouses, signaling the end of another day.

A light breeze stirs, and you faintly catch the scent of rosemary and bergamot. Even in the wine’s blissfully numbing embrace, your heart clenches and leaps in your chest.

You look around in every direction, but no one and nothing stands out.

You sigh, chiding your heart, telling it to stop flip-flopping around in your chest.

It isn’t him. It will never be him again.

You continue walking, but every time the breeze stirs, that smell of rosemary and bergamot drifts with it.

Great, now the very Gods themselves are fucking with me.

You can’t help but stop to look around again. You make sure to pay extra attention to dark corners and alleys, but you see nothing out of the ordinary.

Or perhaps, I’m just going crazy.

You shake your head and laugh at yourself for being so foolish, but another tear escapes your eye and glides slowly down your cheek.

Rounding a corner into a dimly lit corridor, you come face to face with a group of people looking particularly dishevelled. Their eyes slither over you repulsively.

“Well, well, what do we have here? A little lady, all lost and alone?”

Excellent. This is just what I need today - a mugging.

“Don’t be scared; no one has to get hurt here. Just give us your coin, and we will be on our way. Won’t we, lads?”

Foul, yellow-stained toothy grins split across the faces of the others malevolently.

They each draw small blades, so small you would hardly call them daggers. You very nearly laugh at their pathetic excuse for weapons.

The citizens of Waterdeep must be easy to scare; fortunately, I am not.

Grasping the weave, you turn, but before you can even get a cantrip playing on your fingertips, you hear a familiar voice.

“Touch her and die.”

No… it can’t possibly be.

The group of dishevelled people look around wildly, trying to find the source of that voice.

One of them steps forward threateningly, “Trying to play tricks on us, sorcerer? We aren’t so easily spooked.”

Your eyes search the rooftops surrounding the corridor. If he were to be anywhere, it would be there. You don’t see anything at first, but you catch a glimpse of movement and faintly make out a figure moving over the roofs shrouded in darkness.

Stepping closer, with that sad excuse for a dagger pointed at you, the man growls, “Your coin. Now. We won’t ask nicely again, little lady.”

Astarion jumps down in front of you with his blades drawn.

“Final warning. Try to touch her and die.”

You’re speechless, just staring at the back of his head in bewilderment.

How much did I have to drink today? Am I hallucinating?

The group sizes Astarion up, no doubt wondering if all 5 of them could take on 1 of him.

With a shake of your head, you finally regain some of your composure and stand next to Astarion with a fireball playing on your fingertips.

“Do they dare?” he whispers only loud enough for you to hear.

“I kind of wish they would,” you whisper back, but lower knowing his hearing is much better than your own.

He chuckles under his breath.

They stare at you with your fire, and the look at their weapons compared to Astarion’s, gawking at them before they bolt off as if the fires of the Hells themselves were licking at their ankles, leaving you and Astarion standing there laughing.

The laughter falls away abruptly and is replaced by abashed crimson eyes as he turns toward you.

“Astarion?”

You reach out to him, needing to be sure this isn’t a hallucination brought on by your sleep deprivation or just another dream.

He gently takes your hand in his and plants a soft kiss on the back. The bracing chill of his skin sends a shiver running up your spine.

“Yes, darling. It’s me.”

Your temper ignites, rage flashes through you like wildfire, and you shove him hard.

“You left me!”

Your lower lip quivers. Tears immediately flood your eyes and spill down your reddened cheeks in small streams.

The corners of his mouth draw downwards, and remorse saturates his expression.

“I know.”

Your chest feels tight as if your lungs are constricting around your wildly beating heart, and you swallow the lump rising in your throat.

“What did I do wrong?” Your voice shakes.

His eyebrows pop upwards, creasing his forehead and his eyes round in shock.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then why?!”

Bringing his hand to the back of his neck, he sighs, “I thought… I thought it was for the best.”

“For who?”

You know the answer, but you want to hear him say it.

“You.”

Indignation reignites the raging wildfire, and you shoot him a smouldering glower.

“Fuck you, Astarion! What gave you the right to decide what’s best for me?”

“You’re right.”

His admittance catches you off guard. The repentant tone of his voice washes over you like a wave, quelling the fiery rage burning through your veins.

Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath, filling your lungs with the brisk air, trying to rein in your emotions.

Exhaling slowly through your mouth, you meet his gaze again, “Why are you here, Astarion?”

He shuffles his feet, “I’ve been looking for you.”

You scoff, “Why? Why now?”

He rubs his hands together, “If you are willing to hear me out, I would like to… talk.” he glances away from you, unsure of himself, “I understand if you don’t want to. If you never wish to see me again, say the word, and you will never have to lay eyes on me again.”

“Not tonight.”

“Of course, whenever you want to. I’m staying at an inn on the edge of town called Golden Harp Inn, room 2.”

“I’ll think about it. Goodbye, Astarion.”

You turn away from him, squeezing your eyes shut, biting your lower lip, fighting the urge to cry.

“Would you allow me to walk you home?”

Your eyelashes sweep up as you look to the heavens, exasperated.

“Are you going to follow me regardless?”

He chuckles, “Probably, but I’ll be eminently more discreet about it.”

“You know I can take care of myself, right?”

“Of course, darling. I’m well aware you can burn anyone you wish to ash, or worse.”

A small smile pulls the corner of his mouth upward, and his fangs just barely peek out of his lips.

That damn smile tugs at your heart strings as it always did.

Gods, I’ve missed him.

You roll your eyes, “Fine.”

“Lead on.”

You walk together in an awkward silence. His trained eyes observe the surroundings, instinctively searching for dangers lurking in the murky gloom. You’re thankful when you reach Gale’s grandiose manor.

Astarion looks up at the tower reaching high into the sky, clearly impressed.

“You live here?”

“This is Gale’s Manor. I’ve been staying here with him.”

A forlorn look passes over his face, and he looks down at the ground.

“I see,” his eyebrow cocks inquisitively but regains his confident composure quickly, “I hope to see you soon. Goodnight, my dear.”

With no further ado, he strides away and disappears into the twilight like a ghost.

What in the Nine Hells am I going to do?

You give your head a quick shake, trying to dislodge your whirling thoughts.

The manor is dark when you enter, with only a few flickering candles strewn about in various places.

You tiptoe up to your way up to your room, close and lock the large door, and slowly sink to the ground, wrapping your arms around your knees.

You let the sorrow you feel consume you, and you sob inconsolably.

You awake with a start and find yourself on the floor where you had sunk to and cried yourself into some semblance of a trance.

Pushing yourself to your feet, you look at yourself in the mirror hanging on the opulently wallpapered wall. Your eyes are bloodshot and swollen with dark bags stretching out under your eyes. You groan at your reflection.

Great.

Slipping into a clean robe, you make your way downstairs. Glancing out the tall window, you surmise that dawn had barely broken the horizon. The sun sits low, split in half by the bay. The golden light is just starting to brighten the dark sky.

Sighing, you make yourself some tea and sit on the terrace. The steaming hot cup warms your hands, providing a sense of comfort.

What in the Hells am I going to do?

You hadn't been able to think about it last night, consumed by grief. The voice in your head screams at you. Your intuition wails desperately at you that you should probably ask him to leave and never return. He broke you once, and you still haven’t recovered from his sudden disappearance. Unfortunately, what you know and what you want are constantly at war with each other.

I don’t want him to go.

Whether you liked it or not, your heart still belonged to him, and somehow, you knew it always would.

Gale’s voice breaches the serene silence of the emerging dawn.

“You’re up early this morning.”

Startled, you jump, and your tea spills into your lap.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He says as he grabs a towel from the kitchen and hands it to you.

Taking the towel, you wipe your lap, “It’s okay. I was just lost in my thoughts.”

“Care to share what’s on your mind? Perhaps I could be of some assistance or provide a friendly ear.”

Should I tell him about Astarion?

You know you should. Gale was your friend, after all. You had quite literally been through hell and back together. He could help you sort out this mess you found yourself in if only you would let him in.

For some reason, you feel the desperate need to keep Astarion’s resurgence to yourself.

“No, it’s just my nightmares again.”

You feel an immediate gush of insurmountable guilt. The lie slips out of your mouth skillfully, much too easily for your comfort, but you’re not ready to share Astarion just yet, not until you figure out why he is here and what he wants from you.

“I’m going to go for a walk. I need to clear my head. Do you need me to pick anything up while I’m out?”

Gale shrugs his shoulder, “No, no. There’s no need to trouble yourself. Enjoy your walk.”

The early morning air is colder than you had prepared for, and you shiver slightly. You spend the day aimlessly wandering around the city, lost in your thoughts of Astarion.

What could he possibly want now? How long had he been looking for you? How did he know you were in Waterdeep?

You had so many questions that only he could answer.

The day passes in a blur, and before you know it, you’re standing outside the Golden Harp Inn as the sun starts to dip below the horizon.

You stand outside the inn in a paralyzing apprehension. An inquisitory voice penetrates your thoughts, breaking you out of them.

“Can I help you?”

Your eyes drift from the worn sign of the tavern and meet the woman's anticipatory glare.

How long have I been standing out here?

You shake your head, “Sorry. I’m looking for someone who might be staying here.”

Her brows raise in a suspicious glower, “And you’re looking for them outside?”

It was a fair question.

You plaster on the most innocent grin you can muster. “No, I just, uh... I wasn’t sure I had the right place, is all.”

She gives you a curt nod, “Well, why don’t you describe who you are looking for? I know all of my patrons.”

Your mouth quirks up in a half smile.

How do I describe him?

“Elf, extremely pale, obnoxiously smart mouth.”

“Oh, him,” she rolls her eyes hard, “he’s in room 2. Up the stairs, second door on your right.” she hesitates, judging you, “Be careful around that one, dear. He looks like he breaks hearts left and right.”

Gods, you have no idea.

You nod in appreciation, “Thank you.”

As you walk up the creaking staircase, your body trembles in anxious anticipation. You take deep breaths, trying to steady the untamed beating of your heart.

You warily eye the wooden door with the tarnished bronze #2 nailed precariously onto it, but you hesitate to knock.

Do I want to do this?

A muffled voice rings out from behind the closed door.

“I can hear you breathing, you know.”

Fuck.

Astarion opens the door and gives you a shallow bow, inviting you in.

“How did you know it was me breathing? It could have been anyone.”

He chuckles, “I can also smell your delectable blood, and I would recognize that scent anywhere.”

Of course, how could I forget that?

You bolster yourself, puffing out your chest in a silly attempt to appear more confident than you’re feeling.

“Well, I’m here. What did you want to talk to me about?”

“Straight to business, I see?”

You scowl at him in a warning, “Astarion.”

“Okay, darling. Okay.”

He stares at your with an eyebrow cocked, “Are you cold?”

“No.”

He rolls his eyes exasperatedly, “You’re shivering, my dear.”

Am I?

“Here.” he drapes a blanket around your shoulders, pulling it tight in front of you, “better?”

He’s standing close to you, and you inhale his comforting scent. He smells like the home you’ve been yearning to come back to.

“Better.”

He smiles, “Good.” He pauses, rubbing his hands together, “You… you might want to sit for this.”

Your stomach leaps into your throat, and your heart rate spikes further. What in the hell was he doing to say to you that he thought you should be sitting for? Was he about to ask you to come to his wedding? Tell you about his new lover? Ask you to kill him?

What heartbreak am I going to befall this time? I shouldn’t have come.

He reaches out and squeezes your arm in a comforting gesture, “Easy, darling.”

“What?”

“I can hear your heart beating a million miles a minute.”

You huff. You never could hide anything from him. He could read you like a favourite book.

“Just spill it, Astarion. Stop stalling.”

He glances away from you nervously, “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to sit?”

“No, I don’t want to sit.”

He sighs, “Okay, suit yourself.”

He runs his fingers through his hair, and you can see the unease he feels on his face. His usually confident demeanour is nowhere to be seen. He looks unsure of himself for the first time since you were walking into the Szarr Palace intending to kill his master.

He clears his throat and walks towards you. His gaze meets yours with an intensity that makes you gasp.

“I’ve been looking for you for a while. You’re incredibly hard to track down.”

You interrupt him, “How long?”

“Over a year.”

You would have been looking for him at the same time he was looking for you at one point.

He takes a small step toward you, “I came here to tell you… I… I want to be with you, but I didn’t realize you had moved on with…” he cringes, “Gale.”

A sad, fake smile spreads across his face, “Perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised. He always did have feelings for you, and he can give you all the things I can’t, all the things you deserve.”

You walk over to the chair, plunge yourself down into it, and start to laugh hysterically.

Astarion doesn’t look amused, but he sits on the side of the bed opposite you, looking at you like you might be cursed.

“I’m sorry,” you manage to squeeze out between giggles, “I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing at your assumptions.”

“Care to elaborate, darling?”

“Gale and I are not together, Astarion.”

His eyebrow cocks, “But you’re living with him?”

“I had nowhere else to go when you left… I couldn’t stay in our little house. You were everywhere and nowhere, and it hurt.”

Those vibrant scarlet irises glance away from you momentarily.

He meets your eyes again, “So you’re not together?”

You shake your head, stifling another giggle, “Absolutely not.”

With a wide, relieved grin, he says, “This conversation has just become much more pleasant.”

If only it were that simple.

“I don’t know if I can be with you again, Astarion.”

No matter how much I want to.

You suddenly feel uncomfortably hot and rise from the chair, shrugging off the blanket.

“What do you mean you want to be with me?”

“I want you, all of you. Without you, life is hardly worth living. The last years taught me that.”

You’re pacing around the small room now. Astarion’s eyes follow your movement keenly.

“And you thought you could just show up, and I’d what? Welcome you back with open arms?”

A chuckle rumbles deep in his chest, “A man can hope, but no.” his eyes meet yours with a humility you haven’t seen before, “I expected you to tell me to leave, or quite possibly burn me to ash, but here you are.” he pauses, “I’m sorry I left.”

You stop rapidly pacing the room and meet his eyes sadly, “I’m sorry you felt like you had to leave instead of just talking to me.”

He huffs, “Oh, come off. You were amazing.”

Tears brim in your eyes, “Then why did you leave me, Astarion?”

“I…,” he steps so close that he’s almost touching you and wipes the tears escaping your eyes with his thumb, “I was afraid.”

“Afraid of what? Me?”

“Gods, no.” he hisses, “You’re the only person I’ve ever truly cared for. Have you truly spent the last couple of years thinking I left because of you?”

“What else was I supposed to think?”

His face softens, “Oh, my love. I’m so sorry.”

Astarion wraps his arms around you in a tight hug. It takes you a minute, but you finally allow yourself to melt into him, pressing yourself hard against him. Your shoulders slump and shake with sobs.

When he finally releases you, you look up at him and are surprised to see tears running down his pale cheeks.

Instinctively, you reach up and wipe them away with the back of your hand, “Don’t cry, Astarion.”

He chuckles at you, amused, as he uses his thumb to wipe your tears away.

“Don’t cry, my love,” he whispers.

One of your hands still grasps a handful of his shirt. You’re scared that if you release him, he will disappear, and this will all be a dream.

“I was afraid.”

His words echo in the expanse of your mind.

“Why were you afraid?”

He brushes the hair out of your face tenderly and cradles your face with his palm. You press your face harder into his cool touch, your lips grazing his smooth skin.

He is home.

“I was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to give you the life you deserve,” his voice lowers to a whisper, “the love you deserve.”

You scoff at him, “A life with you is all I wanted, Astarion.”

Astarion tilts your head so that your eyes meet his searching crimson gaze. His face is relaxed, and you see no signs of that mask he sometimes wore.

“Do you still want it? Me?”

His lips ghost over yours, making your eyes flutter closed.

“I could never stop loving you.”

He clicks his tongue, “That’s not an answer.”

“I’m afraid, Astarion.”

“Of what?”

“I’m afraid you will leave again when things get hard or uncomfortable. I won’t survive losing you twice.” you stare back at him with suffocating trepidation, “Perhaps we can be friends… for now.”

You can almost taste the sorrow infecting his red eyes, but he smiles anyway, “Friends. Yes… yes, I can do that.”

Thank you to all those who read/like/comment/follow/reblog/etc. I'm forever thankful for the support.

Chapters Master List - Shadows of the Past

AO3: Crossposted

If you're interested, I also write fanfic for Ascended Astarion x Spawn Tav - Fangs and Fractured Hearts

#astarion fanfic #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x tav #astarion x mc #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion baldurs gate #astarion bg3 #astarion smut #bg3 #shadows of the past

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crepesuzette2023 · 1 year ago

Note

I know this is a broad question, but if you had to pick, what is the most angsty Mclennon fic you’ve read so far ? You have some amazing recommendations and I’m looking to hurt my own feelings lol

Hi st-john!

Thank you for the ask! This made me think about some of my angsty forever-faves in general, sorted from subtle to savage. (Under the cut.)

If you want to skip straight (do we use this word around here?!) to the fics I personally find the most angsty: they're at the bottom of this post. I also included some dark/angsty stories here, but I didn't want to repeat any recommendations.

Your ask helped me understand what it is I find the most angst-filled in mclennon, so thank you for that. I was surprised to see so many canon-adjacent stories on my list, and I think it shows that, to me, the most potent angst doesn't come from outside threat but from their minds, as evidenced by events that actually happened. The two of them being scared of (and turned on by) the big fat x they mark on their shared psychosexual map is one of the most attractive aspects of mclennon for me—followed by the two of them taking x for granted, and being permanently damaged once they realize they lost it forever. I also like stories that show their mutual resentment, even as they're into each other (sometimes literally). Anyway, under the cut are some of my favorite angsty fics in three handy categories:

1.) Carry That Weight/Love is Strange: Their relationship is deep and doomed and addictive. These stories are all set during the Beatle-years. I'M GONNA HAUNT YOU (sexysadie): 1968. John and Paul talk about women, but really, they talk about each other. A brief story about longing in the absence of hope. WALKING CLOSE AT HAND (harmonising): John and Paul as pair of broken mirrors, haunted by death in all things. Their love as beautiful magic-turned-curse. LET ME ROLL IT (@downtothe-lastdrop): The 1968 NYC Apple Launch Divorcemoon from Paul's POV. Lively and detailed, and drenched in what it must feel like to drown in unspoken words. I THINK OF THINGS WE DID (J_deandra_j): 1965. John and Paul fuck in Austria during the filming of Help! There is something intangibly upsetting about this story: anger and frustration; lust and sex with little room for softness—but it's so good and real and raw while it lasts. This one is impossible to forget! John POV. HOW YOU WERE DIVERTED (candle_beck): Paul handles John. This is about sex as one of the things that is "just them"—an urgent and rough emergency intervention. 2.) Tributes to the Canonical Breakup. To me, the break-up is an angst-filled nightmare. Not to mention the looming day of John's murder. I love stories that explore the break-up and its aftermath with compassion. And, as painful as it is, I especially love stories that make me feel that the love was there, always (even though it wasn't enough). THROW THE WINE (@savageandwise). This one is such a classic I imagine everyone must have read it, but I can't not mention it. It was one of the first fics I read—arrow through me, and such. The more painful it gets, the more it slows down. That takes courage. YOU'RE A DREAM LOVER (@dailyhowl). John and Paul share dreams and love each other in their dreams—gloriously so—but in the end, the dream is over. The most brutal aspect of this one is seeing Paul in the end, alone. I STILL MISS SOMEONE & CLOSE THE DOOR LIGHTLY WHEN YOU GO (RosalindBeatrice). Paul and John become lovers in the 70's, but their encounters are few and far between—and in the end, darkness falls. But there's also the mercy of honesty, tears, and, yes: sex. Beautifully melancholy story about the vast distance between bright stars. ONE NIGHT IN BANGKOK (@backbenttulips). Apologies to the writer in case my "angsty" reading of this one misses the mark! Above all, this is a hot hot hot story about John and Paul hooking up in Bangkok and fucking every which way, remembering the past and seizing the present. But it's also a story about a relationship that no longer exists: their musical partnership. They destroyed the one place where their love had a home. Now, faraway hotel rooms will have to do—and there are no goodbyes or plans for a next time. (I must repeat how hot this is though.)

3.) "A day may come when the courage of Men fails, when we forsake our friends and break all bonds of fellowship, but it is not this day."—Except it's exactly this day. Deep pain and sadness: the break-up is final; no one was saved. [Writers mentioned here: this is meant as a compliment. All of these stories are so good. It's not for nothing that I was never able to forget some lines from these stories, even though I read them very early on.]

HEAR ME, MY LOVER by @savageandwise. (Unfinished, but feels finished.) At the time the Beatles break up, Paul attempts to kill himself. He lives, but much else is destroyed. No one is wrong or right—their love and fracturing cut all possible ways. I read this as a literal translation of what the loss of the band (and John) meant for Paul, for a while.

FOUR LAST SONGS by @celebratorypenguin. This AU (four parts) explores what would have happened to the Beatles if John hadn't been the one to die first. Sentences from this one still live in my brain. The story is both sweeping and deep, and covers the POV of all four Beatles. Its truly an alternate history of the band, and it's very sad. But so, so beautiful, too.

Bonus Materials: John and Paul never became John&Paul. Everyone comes at this differently, but to me, the idea of them meeting, and falling in love, and turning away from it, is as angst-filled as the worst of the the break-up. That's why I think these two are among the best, most courageous, but also most angst-filled, of all mclennon fics: ALL THE BOYS ARE SINGING LOVE SONGS. (@dailyhowl): Paul settles down with Dot and they start a family. He and John meet again, and the spark is still there, but after a night together, the fear of starting over is greater. This magnificently written story fucked me up, and I've yet to pick up the courage to read it a second time. To quote the writer: this is a story about "the angst of living in the prison of society-approved masculinity." Yes. "Happy ending seekers need not apply." That is fair. As a happy ending seeker, I comfort my tender shipper's heart with the exhilarating fact that the real John and Paul did, in fact, become lovers become famous with the Beatles and formed a close musical partnership. THERE ARE ALWAYS FLOWERS (tarenas). This is a story I mentioned in my overall favorites post, and it's not, strictly speaking, all angst (to quote the writer: "this is about being sad and middle-aged, but it's also about being so happy and middle-aged!") It's not even J/P: it's mostly Paul/George, and their relationship is beautiful and real. Still, as a reader I was aching for the other life that could have been, and that is woven through the events of this story with incredible artistry: the Beatles, which everyone misses without knowing why. The great love between John and Paul that ended when John chose someone else. This is the magic of RPF: reality is the shadow event included for free. (Unfinished, with have all four n on-Beatles POV's. So far: George and Ringo.)

#fic rec #fic recs #mclennon #mclennon fanfiction #asks #the beatles fanfiction #angst fic recs

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itsyouch · 1 month ago

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I wish I was illiterate.

I'm going to hit my head with a pan so hard that I get a concussion and forget the English language. And I'm going to make sure I learn a language that this book isn't translated in and never read this book again. Istg

I'VE BEEN SOBBING FOR 5 HOURS. GOD DAMN SOMEONE HELP ME. MY CHEEKS HAS BEEN ERODED FROM TEARS. IT BURRNSS MY EYES BURRN.

I CAN'T DO THIS! HES DEAD. DRAKE IS DEAD OHH OHWWWW HELP ME. MY HEART IS ABOUTA BLOW UP. OOOOOOOWWW

MY JOY. MY JOY IS GONE!! DRAKE, MY SWEET NOOOO!! HE DIED IN A MEANINGFUL WAY OOOH. MY NUMBER 1 WEAKNESS AAAAAAAHH!!!

every single one of his words hit so hard.

EVERYONE in a hundred mile radius was in danger when I read this. HIS LITTLE HOUSE IN THE VALLEY. THE NECKLACE. THOSE WHERE THE MOST BEAUTIFUL WHOLESOME SCENES WITH DRAKE EVER. AND THEY GOT TURNED EVEN SADDER IN HIS DEATH.

"Give Rachle the necklace. Tell her.... tell her I'm sorry. Tell her..... I wanted to show her... my little valley. Tell her I tried."

that has me so bad.... oh haha, woopsies I'm abouta start balling again..... uuhmm.... I don't wanna finish Beyonders... oomf said if only gets worse, and that if I'm reacting like this over Drake's death.... then I'm cook so bad......

THEY DON'T UNDERSTAND ME THO. EVEN IF IT GETS WORSE. DRAKE'S DEATH IS ALWAYS GONNA BE NUMBER 1. HE WAS MY ONLY CHARACTER IM HYPERFIXATING ON. AND ALL I HAVE THAT SLIGHTLY CLOSE TO DRAKE, IF FERRIN. HE'S NOT HELPING THO. NOTHING CAN REPLACE DRAKE. AND AND OOOH SHOOT

RACHEL!!! SHE'S GONNA FIND OUT ABOUT DRAKE'S DEATH.

All the bonding between them, Drake teaching Rachel Edomic, Drake promising Rachel to take her to his old house in the valley, the necklace. THEY... ok lemme calm down.... they never got to say goodbye properly, Rachel literally voiced her concern that she might not see Drake again after they split up. She made Drake promise that he would come back, that they would make it out

Oh there I go, balling for the 11th time today....

IM NEVER GONNA GET TO READ DRAKE AND RACHEL TALK EVER AGAIN, NEVER INTERACT, BANTER PLAYFULLY, DRAKE IS NEVER GONNA RUSTLE HER HAIR. HER ADOPTED FATHER IS DEAD. SHES GONNA HAVE TO FIND OUT.

"I've done this before.... I'm past the reach of medicine" BECAUSE HE'S DIED BEFORE. HE KNOWS THE FEELING, HE KNOWS ITS OVER.

Him telling Farfalee he loved her too is so sad, they've been doing nothing but sibling bantering.

In the first chapters when they were getting ready to separate, Rachel found Drake trying to leave without saying goodbye

"It can be easier that way" hits so hard, Drake is an Amar Kabal, they aren't used to saying goodbyes because they always come back. Amar Kabals aren't used to death or loosing someone permanently. It happens, some die permanently, but when they do, I like to think Amar Kabal take last lifes more seriously/emotionally then others.

Drake not saying goodbye because he hopes he can make it back to Rachel, but at the same time, i think he knew he would die and just wanted to save both of them from having to say goodbye forever. I think he wouldn't of really made an effort of coming back if Rachel didn't ask him to. He would want to die for the prophecy, to use his last life for something useful but changed his mind after Rachel told him to take care. He planned on seeing her again, even going out of his way to grab her a gift in hopes of giving it to her when they saw each other again, but maybe that was a bit too hopeful of Drake.

Even though every one of Drake's last words meant something, it's his very last that hit like a bullet train. "where's my amar?" He was slowly forgetting parts of his memory, he forgot that he threw away his amar because he needed to blend in when they were sneaking in to the village, I hate seeing the effects of death, I hate it when they slowly forget familiar faces, or where they are, making them die in confusion.

GOD DAMNT IT IM SONBBING AGAIN. I CAN'T SEE. EVERYTHING IS BLURY!! IM SO FRUSTRATED BECAUSE I HAVE SO MANY THINGS IN MY MIND BUT MY STUPID DUMB SELF DOESN'T KNOW HOW TO SAY IT.

I'll come back to this when my head is a bit clearer....

#drake the beyonders trilogy #the beyonders trilogy #the beyonders trilogy drake #brandon mull #book fandom #book fantasy #im gonna scream #im not overreacting.... oh god I know I am....

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breyito · 9 months ago

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Fear your sins, not your monsters: Part Two: Tortured Souls

@painlandweek Day 2: Leyends

Part 1 Part 3 Chapters: 2/4 Fandom: Dead Boy Detectives (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence Relationships: Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland, Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne & Charles Rowland, Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne & Crystal Palace Characters: Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne, Charles Rowland (DCU) Additional Tags: Protective Edwin Paine | Edwin PayneUnhinged Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne, Violence, Torture, Hurt Charles Rowland (DCU), Sickfic, love language: acts of service, painlandweek, BAMF Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne, Angst with a Happy Ending

A/N: Goodness gracious. This chapter is a behemoth. I think I have not written so much in one go since...2019? When the fires of wrath at Tony's death still lived within me lmao (im still mad, but im also tired now) Anyways!!! This took so long because the scenes just kept needing to be written out and out! And the dialogue! So.much.dialogue. Also, WARNING: there are some descriptions and threats of rape/non-con (about ocs and towards Crystal), so, *please* be careful. These ghosts are some real scumbags. As always, English is not my first language and I have no beta. Also, it's near 5AM, so. Any edits that need doing I'll do later. Enjoy!

Part Two: Tortured Souls

“What-t the fuck do you even want!? ” screamed Charles, after the thirteenth time he was transported from the rocks on the shore onto the cold concrete floor. He punched the floor in frustration but it didn’t make any difference: he wouldn’t feel it even if he tore out chunks of it. He’d tried that, digging his way out, but it was no use; the fucking room returned to its original state no matter what he did.

(He’d also tried to break the iron bars on the window, but no matter how much of his hands he burned while trying, it was useless. The only thing it did was multiply the pain when he got thrown into the freezing depths again.)

He clenched his teeth while clothing himself again. He heard a giggle that sent another shiver down his spine and to the very core of his essence.

“Oh, I’m just softening you up, kid.” the witch answered, an incorporeal voice just in his ear. Charles jumped and whirled around, but there was no one.

“Softening me for what !?” he insisted. “How long do you plan to keep doing this for!?”

“Well…until you no longer have any fight in you, of course.” She giggled again. “That’s the best way to break in a new toy.”

“I’m not a bloody toy !” he yelled, incandescently furious. The first dregs of a new kind of dread were emerging, and he didn’t like that one bit.

“You are now. Mmm, the things he’ll do to you when he comes back…”she teased, like the mere thought gave her pleasure. She sighed. “It’ll be delicious .”

Charles choked on his helplessness, and tried really hard to be more angry than scared. He almost manages to convince himself he succeeded.

“See you later, baby. The lake needs time to freeze over, you know.” Just like that, the heavy presence was gone.

Dawn had come while they talked. Still shivering, Charles curled up on the concrete floor, trying to place himself on the faint rays of sunlight. Not for the first time in his afterlife, he wished he could feel their heat as well as he could feel this permanent cold. It felt like he had never known warmth. Like the golden light of a lantern reflected on a pair of soft green eyes had only ever been an illusion.

Still, he kept Edwin’s face on his mind. The furrow of his eyebrows, the twitch of his nose when he wanted to say something and knew he shouldn’t, the sharp angle of his cheekbones….the tempting bow of his lower lip, just begging to be kissed.

God…I wished I had just told you. I’m sorry, Edwin. I’m so sorry.

—- —-- —--

By the time Crystal’s alarm went off, it was far past noon already. A part of her wanted to yell at Edwin for letting her oversleep when they were in a crisis, but as she looked around the office and noticed the complete state of chaos it was in, the words died in her throat.

Edwin was dressed impeccably, though, sharp and without a hair out of place. Somehow, despite being only in his vest and coat, he seemed…more put together than usual. When the light hit him just right, he looked like a threat . It was unsettling, and made her feel ill at ease. But she pushed through it, because this was her friend, worried sick about their other missing friend.

Still, the way his fists kept meeting one another, and the now black gloves he wore gave away his agitation; and choked her up a bit. He had Charles’ necklace around his neck, and he was squeezing it between his fingers after every third time he smashed his knuckles together.

“Hey” she said, as she stood up from the couch.

“Good morning.” Edwin said, turning. “We have plenty to do today, but since the places we need to get to are not open before sundown, we have time for you to grab a bite.”

“I’m fine-”she tried to say.

“Crystal.” he interrupted. “You are alive , and thus have certain basic needs that have to be met for your presence to be beneficial to Charles’ rescue.” He took a deep breath. “If you insist on becoming a hindrance by refusing to take those necessary steps; I have no problem leaving you bound here in the office, until I get him back.” The tone of his voice left her no doubt he was completely serious, and would, in fact, leave her trapped in this room.

“Fuck, fuck , allright.” she conceded, as she put on her shoes. “But you will fill me in on what you found in the meantime.” Edwin tilted his head.

“Very well.” with that he turned around and crossed through the door. Cursing under her breath, she hurried to follow him.

—-- —-- —--

Once they were situated in a caffe with her meal in front of her and her earpiece very visible to avoid unwanted attention, she gestured for him to explain. Edwin, sitting across the table, cleared his throat and started.

“As we suspected, I cannot find him through usual tracking spells. This magic user has hidden their signatures too well for that.” He shifted in the seat, looking around before taking out his notebook. “However, I can track the ghost that hired us and lead us right to the trap.”

“Why haven’t you done that already then?”

“Because, first of all, at least back in the church, he had items that made him stronger and managed to escape after hurting Charles but just before he was taken and all the mirrors shattered.”

“So he’s tricky, is what you mean.”

“Exactly. We have no way of knowing if the witch provided him those items solely for the trap or if he has more of them. I’d hate to be ill prepared to face him, especially with you in tow.”

“I can handle myself.” she refuted, tone harsh.

“Crystal.” Edwin waited until she looked him in the eye, which was rare for him so she did. “I may not be very good at social interactions, but I did notice the way he was looking at you. It made me uncomfortable, so I can only imagine what it was like for you.”

“Well.” she said with a strained smile, eyes focused on her plate. “It’s not like it's the first time.” Crystal saw him hesitating on the corner of her eye, and then felt a slight pressure on her sleeve. She looked up and saw him give her a pained smile back.

“I am under no impression that what I experience when I use my disguises is anywhere near the real life, constant feeling of being under scrutiny and threat from those kinds of…men. And while the hardships I suffered when I was alive may give me some insight, it is not the same. But it is not normal and it is not okay.” He looked away for a tick before looking back at her. “In the future, we’ll try to screen these types of clients better. If they cannot treat you with the appropriate respect, they do not deserve our help.” He squeezed her arm once before letting go.

Done with sentimentalities for the time being, he leaned back and busied himself with his notes. Crystal, feeling like she had been punched in the throat, focused back on her meal and tried not to cry.

When enough time had passed that she felt she could speak without sounding choked, she set down her glass and tapped the table to get his attention back.

“You said we needed to go somewhere that wouldn’t be ‘open’ until night. Where is that? Some sort of library, a supernatural store…?”

“Not this time. Are you familiar with the term ‘black market’?” The ghost asked.

“Are you kidding? There’s a black market for magical stuff?” she hissed. “Wouldn’t that just be a regular magical market or whatever?��

“Oh, no. The supernatural world works on complicated networks. Usually, for regular cases, we can go to above board individuals or shops. But sometimes, less… moral objects are needed, and the Obscure Mart is the ideal place to obtain them.”

“Obscure Mart? Damn, you guys really love your theatrics, don’t you?”

“Of course.” he smirked. “That’s half the fun of all of it.” She was tempted to ask what the other half was, but feared getting off track.

“What do we need from this black market then?”

“Ideally, truth spells talismans. The iron chains to contain him are already inside the bag.” he pointed to Charles’ backpack. “Then, maybe some holy oil. Our reserve is quite small, and I’d rather have a larger circle than a small one.”

“Wait a minute. Holy oil? Isn’t that the stuff that can disintegrate a ghost if they touch it?”

“Indeed. Do you remember the abandoned warehouse of the Mc’Call case?” at her nod, he continued. “My plan is to catch unawares, and push him through a mirror into the building. I have already set up a salt circle to avoid him escaping, but I believe a holy fire around that circle will be better.”

“Isn’t that super dangerous?”

“It has its risks, but I think it is worth it. Besides, once you get there, you’ll put out the fire.” He adds.

“I mean, the warehouse is not far from here, but how do we know that this guy won’t be in, like, Tanzania?”

“These types usually have a pattern. As we’ve seen, he’s lazy, a pervert and from London. I don’t think he’s gone far at all.”

“Fine, ok. Also, truth spells? Couldn’t you just” she waves her fingers “do one?”

“Not at all. As a form of incantation, truth spells are useless. Truth spells talismans are one of the trickiest bits of magic and do work. The runes need to be in a specific pattern, written down in a special paper, with a particular ink, prepared in a confluence of the ley lines and only in certain phases of the moon.”

“Well, damn. Off to the black market we go, then.”

Ignoring the alarmed look from the waitress, she left a tip and got up to follow the ghost boy.

—-- —-- —--

—- —-- —--

The entrance to the Obscure Mart was hidden in an ancient alleyway, behind a brick wall. Crystal had to bite her tongue not to make any Harry Potter related comments. (She had no desire to listen to another rant about how Rowling did the whole community a huge disservice, since she’d have to defend the world of Harry Potter but not the author because fuck that terf; and she hasn’t got the energy for that).

The market was a lively place, if a bit well, dark. Actual-for-realsies torches were the main source of light. The fires were of multiple colours though, which is cool. There were some stores she could see, but it seemed to be mostly tables and tents at the sides of the very long alley, with some narrow corridors on both sides. It’s not empty, but it’s not packed either. The first person that waved at them smiled, then looked behind Edwin at Crystal, and swallowed.

“Hi, Edwin!” They look behind the teens again. “Where’s Charles?” They ask, barely keeping the smile on their face.

“Taken.” Edwin said, curt. The person talking to them paled and then cursed softly. Crystal bit her lip not to question the wisdom of admitting such a thing, keeping in mind the ghost’s warning before going in: she was not to speak unless directly questioned.. “I need you to point me in the direction of Garreth Gadget?” he asked. Crystal blinked twice and tried not to snort at the name.

“Y-yeah, sure. He’s on the seventh entrance tonight.” With barely a nod in acknowledgment, Edwin kept walking.

The psychic girl saw the person that was just talking to them whisper something in the ear of their neighbour, and how this kept repeating as they walked down the road. As she turned to see the reactions of the beings around them she wished she could take the time to gape at all the crazy stuff. There was a giant ass tank with a giant ass glowing and mean looking octopus wearing a tophat that suddenly pulled all his limbs into a little ball and tried to hide behind his tophat .

“-but who would be this stupid ?” asked a green girl with wings, fluttering agitatedly around her equally colourful friends. Crystal was calling her fairy for now and save the terminology for another day.

“...yeah, probably someone new…” a sinister matronly ghost whispered to the man next to her, fussing over her wares.

“-ou think we’ll have another Bog Witch situation?” asked a… spooky talking tree?? Everyone that heard him shivered in unison.

“ -uck, I hope not. That’d be…horrific.” answered the black cat with the equally black kittens.

Seeing as Edwin had gotten ahead of her anyways, she turned around to question the cat. That was the creature she was most used to, even if they were usually very rude.

“What ‘Bog Witch situation’?” she asked, intrigued.

“Shhh!” The kittens shushed her in unison, eyes wide. They all hurried to hide behind their mother.

“You don’t know about the Bog Witch?” the cat asked, tilting her head.

“ What Bog Witch?”

“Exactly!” the green fairy answered, nodding.

“No, really. What Bog Witch? And why is she so important?” Crystal was starting to lose her patience. There was a very awkward pause. “I’m new to this supernatural shit, alright? Is it some sort of legend or lore I don’t know about? Does it have anything to do with Edwin?”

“... it’s more like an urban legend. About what happened to her.” whispered a goth human boy. She assumed he was either a psychic or a warlock. He kept looking around, like Edwin would suddenly pop up out of nowhere.

“More like what that boy did to her.” muttered the ghost of a firefighter.

“It’s not like it wasn’t deserved.” defended the matronly ghost.

“And what happened to her? Did Edwin… kill her?”Crystal asked, apprehensive.

“Oh, no.” the boy snorted. She relaxed slightly. “ Way worse. He erased her from existence. She and her Bog.”

“Which was an overreaction, in my opinion.” added the tree.

“Erased her from existence…? That can happen? Wouldn’t people notice a whole ecosystem disappearing one day to the next?”

“Not in this case. When we say he ‘erased her from existence’ we mean completely . There are no traces, no records, no memories of them. Us supernatural creatures are the only ones that remember the Witch or the Bog.” Explained the fairy.

“Only faint traces, tho.” The firefighter added. “I assume as a warning.”

“You assume correctly.” Edwin stated, suddenly at her side. Everyone jumped back and quickly scampered away. He grabbed her arm and began leading her back down the road.

“Wait, wait, wait.” she said, stopping. Edwin sighed loudly and turned around, one eyebrow raised. “A warning about what?” she asked.

“About what I am willing to do to get Charles back. There are not many things that fall outside that list.” Crystal shook her head, incredulous.

Before she could question him further Edwin turned around snarling and grabbed a ghost by the shoulder, slamming him against the wall with a single hand. Said ghost was a guy, maybe in his thirties, and looked like the cartoon of a dealer, big brown trench coat and everything.

“Trying to avoid me, Garreth?” Edwin asked.

“Look, kid-”the man started, before yelping as said boy pressed his thumb deep into his clavicle. “Wait, wait-! Whatever you need, okay? I wasn’t sure I’d have what you wanted-”

“I need some truth spells talismans.” Edwin interrupted him. “I’m prepared to pay you handsomely for them.”

“ Truth spells ? I’m afraid I can’t help you there, mate. You know they are incredibly hard to come by-”

“I do. Which is why I know only you would have them tonight.”

“I’m sorry, lad, but-”

“I’ll trade you the immersive copy of the Kamasutra you always try to get your paws on.” The man’s eyes darkened immediately, but he shook his head.

“ Very tempting offer but-”

“Or I can just steal your coat and slice it open until it spills everything you have in there.” Edwin extended his free hand, and swallowing, Crystal put the knife he had given her earlier in it.

“I’ll take it! Of course I will.” Edwin backed off to let him search the inside pockets of his trench then. “I was planning on using it on my lass, but fuck it. These birds can’t mouth off, can they?” he said, licking his lips.

Crystal saw Edwin’s shoulders tense in disgust, but knew he couldn’t grimace; so she grimaced for both of them. Garreth finally took a single sheet of paper and gave it to them.

“It’s the only one I’ve got!” he defended himself at their unimpressed looks. “The wife is tricky, alright? Can never get her with these…”he mumbled.

Edwin inhaled deeply and took a book from inside his own pocket, waving it in front of the man.

“Holy oil, then, for the rest of it.”

“Hey-!”

“I can always give you just half the book and you can see if it still functions as intended.” he threatened.

“Fine, fine!” the man conceded. “Jeez.” He took a little clay pot from another pocket, tapping the waxed seal as he handed it over. “Straight from Jerusalem.”

Edwin pressed the book against Garreth’s chest and turned around, pocketing the talisman and the oil. They both began walking, ignoring the wet sounds as the man licked his lips over and over.

They also ignored the way the rest of the beings in the Obscure Mart hunched over, some even hiding under their tables. On the corner of her eye she saw the octopus still in a little ball, just with ink spilled around it. As they left the market and arrived at the normal alley, Crystal stopped Edwin with a hand on his arm.

“This isn’t like you, Edwin.” she said, softly. “This…brute force? The constant threat of violence? It’s like…”

“I’m Charles?” he finished, sarcastic. “We are not so different in our devotion as it might seem, Crystal.”

“I don’t buy that.” she said. Edwin let out a dry chuckle. “He’s our friend, but-”

“Crystal, you've seen him without me. You have never seen me without him .” he interrupted, eyes stone cold. “I know you think you know how our dynamic works. You think I keep him contained when I’m around, don’t you? Leashed , as some would say?” he smiled, and it was terrifying. “Oh, dear Crystal....You have got no clue how savage I can be in the shadow of his absence.”

Crystal took a step back, and Edwin seemed to become smaller. He turned his back on her and rubbed his hand all over his face.

“I don’t like what I become when he’s threatened, Crystal.” he admitted, looking at the sky. “I’m aware that I can be quite brutal, and that regret is not in my vocabulary when these things happen.” He inhaled. “But this is the only way I know to get him back.”

“Edwin…” she whispered, tearing up.

“He’s always protecting me , saving me . Just yesterday he got injured and distracted because I couldn’t defend myself. Now I have to be strong for the both of us, and be tough enough to do whatever is necessary to save him.”

Edwin wiped off a teardrop from his cheek, but more just kept falling. Crystal thought ‘Fuck it, they are my boys and I’m not about to lose either one of them’ and hugged him tight. Surprising her, Edwin hugged her back.

“I can’t lose him, Crystal, I can’t .” he whispered, voice trembling. “If you can’t stomach my methods I don’t blame you, but-”

“No, no. ” she interrupted him. “This is for our friend, and as long as you don’t hurt anyone innocent-”

“I promise.” Edwin said.

“Then you do whatever you need to do to find him.” They separated and smiled weakly at each other, wiping the wetness off their faces. “Now, c’mon, we have a perv ghost to find.”

—-- —-- —--

—- —-- —--

After finishing the holy oil circle and doing the tracking spell, they had an address. They found their perverted ghost perving on some girls in a club’s bathroom downtown, of course. Crystal setted off the fire alarm so that the bar emptied as Edwin surprised the man. As soon as she saw them disappear through the surface, she turned around and left. Fortunately it was the middle of the week, so her Uber should get to their location quickly enough.

Edwin pushed the ghost through the mirror with a surge of magic, right into the warehouse’s trap. The circle of holy fire was already alight. Edwin quickly followed suit and broke the mirror to prevent an escape. While getting iron shackles to bound the other ghost with, the man shook off the effects of the spell and got up.

“You again, little boy?” he mocked. “Didn’t get enough of this, did you?” he laughed as he threw a marked stone at Edwin. The boy knocked the stone off course with the chain, and took advantage of the extended arm to get the cuff around it. “ Bloody hell !” the man cursed, trying to shake the metal burning him loose. He desperately patted his pockets with his other arm, trying to reach another stone loaded spell. “Why isn’t this burning you!? ” he yelled.

“It is.” Edwin answered, before reciting an incantation in Latin. “I just don’t care.” He let go of one of the chains as it seemed to become alive, and sent them in the direction of the other ghost.

The man dodged and tried to run, but Edwin pulled from the chain already around his arm and he fell to the floor. The enchanted chain snaked around the man until he was covered in them, then pulled both arms behind his back and locked them there. The man fell to his knees, and Edwin couldn’t stop thinking how much he looked like a worm.

Once that was done, he waited for Crystal so she could snuff off the fire. Ignoring the snarls and the cursing, Edwin took off his notebook from his pocket and revised his notes once more. The list of questions he needed to ask hadn’t changed, but it made him feel better.

About half an hour later, Crystal arrived. Immediately, she broke the salt circle with her shoe and snuffed the oil with the short incantation Edwin had taught her. Edwin nodded in thanks and opened his mouth, but she cut him off.

“I’m staying.”

Edwin agreed to it, shighing.

“Fuck” laughed the ghost. “The black bitch is here too? What a party!” he whooped. They both ignored him.

Taking the talisman out of his pocket, Edwin slapped it against the other ghost’s throat. The ink burned off the paper as it transferred to the man’s skin.

“Do you know where Charles is?” was the first and most important question Edwin had. The man smirked and opened his mouth to give some bullshit answer.

“Of course I don’t, that wench gave me one job and I did it.” Instead, he answered honestly. “What was that?” he asked, alarmed. “What the fuck was that!?” he yelled as he got no response.

“What is your connection with the person that took Charles?” Edwin continued, not letting the disappointment choke him. Of course this lackey didn’t know, it would have been too easy otherwise.

The man tried to bite his lip, but it was useless. The runes glowed and he had to answer.

“That witch?” he laughs. “She was my late mate’s girl. Awesome catch, she is.”

“Why?” asked Crystal.

“Lil’ bit hard to find a bitch that knows how to enjoy herself, huh?” he winked at her as he licked his lips and the blood he spilled. “Hell, sometimes I think she enjoyed it more than we did.”

“...enjoyed what?” asked Edwin, confused. The man laughed as the runes glowed, head thrown back.

“All the girls and boys we completely destroyed.” He said, proudly. Both teens froze . “Fuck, we had such a good run too! There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do, wouldn’t get, for him. Chains, chain saws ? Done. Knives, blowtorches, pliers? Easy. Even got us a speculum once.” he kept on, a sickening longing look on his face. “That was…a hell of a week.”

“Stop.” said Edwin, feeling nauseous. Fortunately, the runes glowed after that command too, rendering the man silent. While the other ghost silently laughed at them, Edwin checked on Crystal. She nodded at him to continue, swallowing.

“What happened to your…friend?” The man bit his tongue again, but the words kept coming.

“I told you, didn’t I? He died. We both did. Went in a fucking gaze of glory.”

“The police killed you.” Edwin stated. “I don’t remember anything about them stopping a pair of…serial rapists.”

“Oi, have some respect for our skills, we also killed them.” he laughed again at their faces. ”And the pigs never found out!” he howled. “Thought we were just robbers, didn't they?”

The fact that these two monsters were still undiscovered sat like lead on the teens' stomachs. They looked at each other and nodded at the same time. They would get the names of the victims, try and give their families some closure. (Make sure those poor souls went to rest in Heaven.)

“And where is your friend now? Is he working with the witch?” Edwin asked. He lasted longer this time, a trickle of blood getting to his chin.

“Nah. I saw him get dragged down by something inside a red light, didn’t I? So I ran. Ran back to our flat, and there I found her. Turned out the shite she spouted about energies and magic and whatever bollocks was true.” He shook his head and tilted it to the side, leaving it there.

“And then what happened? What does she want with Charles?” As the rapist’s ghost bit his tongue, the blood finally reached the runes, and cut through them. They glowed once, twice and then dulled. “No!” Edwing screamed. “What does she want with Charles!?”

The other ghost just kept laughing.

“What are you gonna do now, little boy!? All outta spells already!?” he mocked. He spat on the floor and looked at them with a predatory smile that centred on Crystal. “If you want to hear me talk so much, I can sure tell you what I’d do to this black wench.” He licked his teeth. “Usually my tastes aren’t so exotic , but I’ll make an exception for you, birdie. You look…just so -” he’s interrupted by said ‘birdie’ kicking him in the balls. He wheezed, still laughing.

Edwin, very calmly, walked Crystal back a few steps and stood in front of her, so she wouldn’t have to see that monster’s face.

“It seems I will be extracting the information physically.” he stated, taking off his coat. “You should leave, Crystal.” he said as he took an ornate dagger from his pocket.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to…read him?” she asked, wanting nothing more than leave this place where this monster felt so fucking comfortable. The last thing she wanted was to read this fucking jerk and fill her head with the horrors he had committed, but she would if Edwin couldn’t do it.

“It’s not necessary-” he started.

“Yeah!” the man screamed behind them. “Sure you don’t want her to do this?” he laughed. “Your iron knives don’t scare me, boy.”

Edwin lifted an eyebrow in question to Crystal and she nodded. She started walking away as he turned around and smiled at the bound man.

“Oh, this isn’t iron.” he said, clicking his tongue. Edwin waited until the sound of the door closing before continuing. “This is cursed silver . This is not just going to burn you. This is going to ground you in your body in a way you haven’t felt since the day you died.” He carefully traced the edge of the man’s right eye with the blade. “And then, it’s going to turn each and every one of those sensations into agony .” He laughed. The other ghost swallowed, paling.

“You think I can’t take a little bit of pain?” he still asked, full of bravado.

“ You took my partner away from me .” Edwin snarled. “Do you think I’m only going to inflict a little bit of pain on you?”

“You wouldn’t.” he objected “You’re not corrupt enough.” the man stated, trying to sound certain but looking wearily at the blade.

“Haven’t you heard? I spent 73 years in Hell.” He slowly walked around the bound ghost, to stop behind him and whisper. “And among my own suffering, I learned many, many things there.” Edwin took off his gloves and let them fall to the floor one by one as he kept walking.

“How to unmake someone apart piece by piece is just one of the lessons.” He caught the terrified gaze of the rapist ghost. “I bet you think you know all about that, don’t you?” He stopped and looked him dead in the eyes. “Only you never had the chance to do it all over again. And again. And again . So why don’t you let me show you?”

—-- —-- —--

Crystal walked outside feeling defeated. She hated it, but she thought that perhaps Edwin would not be able to do it, after the talk they had earlier. And then she would have to read that disgusting mind. She jumped on top of a pile of pallets and shoved her headphones on her head, putting on a metal playlist, just in case.

Not too early, either.

Some really ear-shattering screams begin a few minutes after she leaves. She tried very, very hard to convince herself the screams she heard were coming from the artists.

—-- —-- —--

By the time the screams had turned into choked whimpers, hours had passed. Crystal had resorted to putting on her headphones and turning her music to the highest volume, to ignore it. She knew the man inside was the worst kind of scum on this Earth, but he was still a person. He deserved to be punished for all he had done before and what he had done to Charles. This was all for information, she kept telling herself. She would do a lot of things not to lose another friend.

As Edwin walked out of the warehouse, just in his vest and shirt, she noticed he was… covered in blood would be an overstatement, but not by much. His sleeves were dyed red in places and his bare hands were bright pink. As he approached her, he did a movement with one of his hands and the same black smoke she had seen earlier as they did the tracking spell cleaned it all up, almost… devouring the blood he had had on his person.

“You learned anything useful?” she asked, hopeful.

“Yes, rather.” Edwin answered, before his coat wrapped him up and he fixed his gloves. “We should be going, though, we have no time to lose.”

“What? Why?” Crystal said as she jumped down the pallets she had been sitting on to follow him. Red light spilling from the broken windows of the building was her answer. “He’s moving on? Why?” she asked, completely baffled, as she reached his side. The dude had seen his rapist BFF being dragged down to Hell.

“I…convinced him that it was in his best interest to not be within my reach when this case is through. I suppose he thought his chances of surviving Hell are greater than his chances of surviving me .”

She swallowed a few times, shocked. Noticing she had stopped, Edwin turned around.

“Shall we, Crystal?” he asked, eyebrow lifting.

#fear your sins not your monsters #painland week #painlandweek #dead boy detectives #dbda #payneland #edwin payne #charles rowland #edwin x charles #fanfic #art #moodboard #day 2

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