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nattikay · 11 months

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Jake is a Good Dad and I will Die On That Hill

Howdy Avatar fandom. Over the past six months or so I’ve seen a lot of criticism directed toward Jake Sully as a father, ranging from him simply being a little too strict at best, to outright neglectful and even abusive at worst. This, my friends, is some grade-A nonsense, and today we’re gonna talk about why. Strap in, lads, this is gonna be a long one. Let’s roll.

So before we get into breaking down the events of the main storyline, let’s address the idea that Jake was always the super-strict “military dad” throughout the kids’ lives: put simply, bullcrap.

Out of the film’s over-three-hour runtime, we get to see very little of the Sullies’ lives before the RDA’s return—only about six minutes’ worth. If Jake was meant to be this strict militaristic dictator during this time period, especially in a way that would significantly impact the kids’ character development and their relationships with him, this would be the time to show it, or at least hint at it. But instead of any of that, we really get quite the opposite. Jake laughs and plays with the kids:

Jokes around and cuddles:

Teaches Neteyam to fish:

He even says in his narration:

“Happiness is simple…whoever thought that a jarhead like me could’ve cracked the code?”

Guys, this is quite literally the best time of his life. This man absolutely adores his family with every fiber of his being, they are his whole world. Like, look at him! He has stars in his eyes!!

We have zero reason to suspect that Jake was overly harsh or strict in a way that would impede his relationship with his kids during this time. The Sullies appear to be a normal, healthy, close-knit family.

It’s only when the RDA returns and reignites war that things change.

I’ve seen some people claim that Jake’s personality changed it the second movie. I disagree—it was not his personality that changed, but rather his priorities.

A1 Jake was a disabled marine vet who was offered his brother’s contract after said brother was unexpectedly murdered by some thug on the street…and part of the reason he agreed to take that contract was that there really wasn’t much else left for him back on Earth, so why not go? A1 Jake had just about nothing left to lose, and therefore could afford to be more reckless.

A2 Jake, however, is another story altogether. A2 Jake can’t just run around poking and prodding and taking risks like A1 Jake did because now he has a wife and four children who rely on him and who he loves more than anything else in the world. It’s not just himself he has to look out for anymore, it’s them. He now has everything to lose. He says as much himself:

Not to mention that he’s older now. Did you really expect the 37-year-old father of four who’s been leading the clan for 15 years and is suddenly thrust back into a brutal war to behave exactly the same as the 22-year-old fish-out-of-water ex-marine sent to fill in for his scientist brother out of the sheer convenience of sharing a genome? A2 Jake’s behavior is not a sudden 180 from his personality in A1, it’s a natural progression and reaction for his character given the changed circumstances.

“A father protects. It’s what gives him meaning.”

This is essentially Jake’s thesis for the movie. This is his #1 priority, his purpose, the lens through which all his actions must be viewed in order to understand them, and it’s important to establish it upfront because it sets up everything else.

With that in mind, let’s take a look at the train raid sequence as its aftermath. Jake begrudgingly allows his now-teenage sons to participate in the war party—from a distance, as spotters. Neteyam seems content to fill this role, but Lo’ak, against orders, eagerly insists that they “have to get in there”, even goading his brother:

Tailed by an exasperated Neteyam, Lo’ak grabs a weapon from Tarsem and lets out a half-hearted warcry:

...let’s be honest here, Lo’ak doesn’t really seem to be taking this raid anywhere near as seriously as he should be; he’s treating it more like a game—on which point, y’know what, let’s pause to talk about Lo’ak for a moment.

Because the primary purpose of this post is defending Jake, it may at times appear that I am being overly critical towards Lo’ak. This is not my intention—I love Lo’ak as much as I love the rest of the Sully family (which is a lot lol). I think the things he struggles with are reasonable and valid struggles to have considering his circumstances. However, that does not always mean that he is in the “right”. Jake and Lo’ak’s conflict through the movie is not as simple as “son right dad wrong” or vice-versa; rather, it stems from a generational/age gap in experience and priorities.

In this case, for example, Lo’ak is treating the raid more like a cool action game than a real battle with real stakes. Which may not be much of a surprise—he’s 14! He’s young, he’s naive, he’s never experienced anything close to real war until the past year or so—he probably genuinely does not fully grasp the stakes of this situation just yet. And why should we expect him to, really? He’s never had to before.

Jake, on the other hand, knows the stakes all too well. This ain’t his first rodeo. He was a solider both on Earth (where he was injured severely enough to become paralyzed from the waist down) and then again on Pandora driving out the RDA in a battle that killed several of his friends and allies, including almost completely wiping out the entire Olangi clan.

Jake understands the risks of war and doesn’t want his kids anywhere near it. We see this not only in the film where he only allows Neteyam and Lo’ak to participate in the raid “from a distance” and ultimately fleeing his own clan altogether once his kids are directly threatened, but also in the comics in which he consistently turns down Neteyam’s pleadings to participate in the war efforts. Unfortunately for him, his sons do happen to be coming of age at around this time and there’s only so much he can do to keep them out of it, so he tries to let them participate in relatively safe ways, like as spotters.

Lo’ak…doesn’t understand this. Not really. And that leads to him recklessly taking unnecessary risks—be it out of curiosity, to get in on the action, or even simply to prove himself. Which understandably scares the crap out of Jake.

When the raid is over, Jake desperately searches the rubble for his sons. He finds Lo’ak quickly and makes sure he’s alright:

…before taking off to search for Neteyam, who he also promptly checks over for injuries.

which is something I’d like to point out here: although Jake sometimes gets gruff with his sons, he never leads with that. He always always always makes sure they’re ok first. That’s important. We’ll come back to it throughout the post.

Anyways, it’s only after making sure that Neteyam is ok that Jake’s initial bout of fear subsides and morphs into frustration and anger: what were you thinking?! And it’s a fair question. If the boys had followed orders, they wouldn’t have been at such risk in the first place. Once the party returns to High Camp, Jake addresses this point with them, reminding them that by disobeying direct orders they put themselves in very serious danger, and reiterating to Lo’ak in particular that his recklessness nearly got his brother killed and grounding him.

In other words, Jake’s response to his sons going against his orders was…a lecture and a grounding. That’s…a pretty reasonable parental reaction, actually. Sure, you could nitpick and say his tone was too harsh, but given the situation, I struggle to blame him…

…which leads into the next relevant scene: while Mo’at and Kiri tend to Neteyam’s scratches, Neytiri gently chides Jake for being too hard on the boys, concluding with the infamous line: “This is not a squad. It is a family.”

Now, what I find interesting about this scene is that neither party is really in the wrong here. Jake is doing his best to fill his role as a father by watching out for his kids’ physical safety—even if it means being a little strict. Likewise, Neytiri is filling her role as a mother by looking out for her kids’ emotional well-being. As she should!

That said, I think people who use this line as proof of Jake’s supposed parental failure are forgetting the context. While Neytiri’s line is true in general, when the boys sign up to participate in a war party, they kinda do become a “squad”. In that moment, in that context, they are a squad, they have to behave like one lest someone gets hurt if not killed.

I also think they forget Jake’s reaction to Neytiri’s line:

Look closely. There are tears in his eyes. This dude was terrified of the possibility that he may have just lost one of his sons in the raid, and all his strictness stems from that. And Neytiri seems to recognize this as well, as she can’t seem to decide how to respond. She probably worries about the same thing, after all, even if she handles it differently.

On that note, let’s look at the next time Lo’ak disobeys instructions: going to the old shack with Spider, Kiri, and Tuk, where they first encounter the recom unit.

Something interesting about the aftermath of the recom rescue is that no one gets lectured this time actually. Remember what I said about how, no matter how upset he is, Jake always checks to make sure the kids are ok first and foremost? Sure enough, that’s what he does here:

Not only for his daughters, mind you, but also both his sons (we’ll address the daughter-favoritism claims later):

With the recoms now targeting the Sully family specifically, Jake, feeling out of other options, makes the difficult decision to flee and find refuge among the Metkayina clan.

whoops, there’s that “protection” theme again

When their request for sanctuary is somewhat reluctantly accepted, Jake calls a family meeting and tells the kids this:

Remember how earlier we established how “a father protects” is essentially Jake’s thesis for this movie? Well, this is an offshoot of that: Jake believes that hiding amongst the Metkayina is currently the best was to keep his family safe; therefore, throughout the Sullies’ time with the clan, Jake’s primary goal is to lay low and get along with the clan so as not to tread on their hospitality and get kicked out (even if and when that means setting aside one’s own pride). This, then, is the lens through which Jake’s actions must be analyzed while his family is staying with the Metkayina.

The first time this becomes relevant is after Neteyam and Lo’ak’s little scrap defending Kiri from Aonung and his posse. Jake is clearly not thrilled about Kiri being bullied, but again, his top priority is keeping his family safe and right now this entails maintaining a good standing with the chief, which in turns means that his sons getting into brawls with Tonowari’s son is a very bad look. Which is why, after a moment of internal conflict, he asks Lo’ak to apologize to Aonung (he even tries to explain when Lo’ak protests:)

On that note, while remaining on good terms with the clan has to take precedence at this moment, Jake is clearly quietly proud of his boys for kicking butt, as we see from his exchange with Neteyam (though yes, it is unfortunate that Lo’ak didn’t get to see this bit).

…which brings us to one of the bigger moments that people point to when accusing Jake of being a bad father: the “you bring shame to this family” line. Now, I can understand why this line doesn’t sit right with viewers initially, especially since we have just seen firsthand the truth about what Lo’ak experienced over the past few hours. However, when you consider what’s going on from Jake’s perspective, the line is not quite as unreasonable as it first seems.

Let’s back up a bit to when Lo’ak first returns to the village after meeting Payakan. At first Jake is just relieved that his son is ok (remember: he always checks first)

In fact, once it’s clear that Lo’ak is ok, it seems Jake just wanted to let it go and head home…the real conflict didn’t begin until after Lo’ak lied to take the blame for Aonung.

Up until this moment, Jake only knew Aonung’s side of the story, that he’d taken Lo’ak outside the reef and he got stranded there (it’s unclear whether Aonung specifies that he abandoned him out there on purpose, the little punk, but I digress). But when Tonowari (rightfully) declares Aonung’s responsibility for the incident, Lo’ak speaks up to take the fall, claiming that the whole ordeal was all his idea, which Aonung had tried to talk him out of.

Lo’ak does not have a reputation for lying…but he does have a reputation for pulling reckless stunts that put himself and others in danger, so for better or for worse, Jake has literally zero reason not to believe this claim.

In other words, for Jake, the situation has just gone from “my son got taken advantage of by the local bullies and put into a precarious situation but he’s home safe now” to “my son dragged a bunch of other kids to a dangerous location where he knows he’s not supposed to go despite the chef’s son trying to talk him out of it, endangering both his life and theirs, getting lost in the process, and thereby worrying and inconveniencing the entire clan on whose hospitality we rely by making them go out of their way to arrange a whole search party in the dead of night just to find him.”

…yeah, no wonder he was flippin’ ticked. No wonder he “didn’t want to hear it” when Lo’ak tries to explain that he was “only trying to make friends”. We as the audience know that’s true, of course, but as far as Jake knows in that moment, based on what Lo’ak himself claimed just moments ago, he was trying to “make friends” by…dragging them out to a dangerous location despite their protests thus jeopardizing both his and their lives as well as his family’s standing in the clan who can kick them out at any time. Yeah, I wouldn’t want to “hear it” either.

When you look at it from that perspective, “you brought shame to this family” doesn’t really seem quite as extreme, does it?

And yes, I feel for Lo’ak here, really, I do; he’s just been through a lot and yes based on the actual events that just occurred his father’s anger is the last thing the poor kid needs and I totally get why it would upset him…but at the same time, I can’t help feeling that he kinda brought this particular lecture on himself by voluntarily taking the blame for Aonung. Not really sure what he was expecting: that Jake would somehow read his mind and understand the way things actually went? That he would see through his lie and praise him for being so amiable towards Aonung by taking the fall perhaps similar to how Neteyam so often claims the blame for Lo’ak’s own reckless shenanigans despite how rude Aonung had been to him thus far? Or perhaps he just blurted out the blame claim as an olive branch of sorts to Aonung (genuinely trying to “make friends” in a way) without really thinking about the consequences of doing so. Who knows. But regardless of how Lo’ak did or didn’t think things would go, I think it’s a little unfair to blame Jake for his reaction. Based on his knowledge of the circumstances, which in turn were based on Lo’ak’s own account given only moments before (remember, Jake had zero reason to suspect he was lying), his reaction is actually pretty understandable.

Speaking of Lo’ak’s adventures with Payakan, the next time we see him clash with his father is when Tonowari lectures him for bonding with the outcast, and Lo’ak defends his new friend. Remember: Jake’s top priority is keeping his family safe which currently means not getting kicked out of the Metkayina. Lo’ak, regardless of whether or not he was in the right, was clearly upsetting Ronal and Tonowari in this exchange—Neytiri is actually the first to step in and warn her son:

…and when Lo’ak persists anyways, Jake has to step in in hopes of smoothing things over with the chief.

It sucks that this upset Lo’ak, especially because we the audience know that Lo’ak is right about Payakan, but again, Jake is currently more concerned with not getting kicked out of the clan than with his son winning an argument about the validity of a tulkun’s outcast status.

...aaaand here comes the hardest part of this essay to write. Admittedly I wasn’t aware of this argument until recently, but now that I know it’s out there I feel obligated to address it here. Apparently some folks are out there claim that Jake did not display a sufficient amount of emotion at Neteyam’s death, and this somehow proves that he wasn’t as attached to his sons as he should have been. And all I have to say to that is: did we watch the same movie??

That man broke upon his son’s death. Did he wail and cry like Neytiri, no, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t heartbroken—wailing and crying simply aren’t how his character responds to trauma. He’s a solider, he’s probably trained to delay any external breakdown at least until a given battle is over.

But you can still see it in his face. You can hear it in his voice which breaks and shudders when he realizes that Neteyam is dying and tries to give him a few last words of comfort, wanting so desperately to ease his pain to the best of his abilities.

...yeah. This man is broken in this moment.

…but his job isn’t over yet. The battle is still raging. He still has three more kids who still need him. As much as he may want to, he cannot take the time to fully grieve in this moment.

…which brings us to the big one, the main line people point to when arguing that Jake is a bad father:

Now, let’s be honest: was this an awful thing to say? Yes, absolutely. Should Jake apologize to Lo’ak for it after the fact, if he hasn’t already? Definitely, one-hundred-percent. I’m not disputing that in the least.

however…

In this moment, Jake has just spent the past however-long locked in a vicious battle, and hardly minutes before watched his firstborn son bleed out in his arms. And now he learns that his daughters—one of whom is a pre-pubescent child with no chance of defending herself—are still caught on the “demon ship” with the recoms, who have just very clearly proven that they have absolutely no qualms with killing these kids. Quaritch taunting in his ear certainly is not helping.

The only thing Jake could properly focus on in that moment was getting Kiri and Tuk off that boat. Repeat: he wants to get his kids OFF the demon ship, not risk bringing any of them back ON. On top of that, Lo’ak, as established very early on in the film (see: train raid), has a reputation for struggling to follow orders…even when not emotionally devastated by the death of his brother.

All these things considered, is it really any wonder that Jake did not want Lo’ak coming along on this mission? He’s already lost one son, why in the ever-loving flip flap would he want to risk losing the other by intentionally bringing him back to the danger zone with no guarantee he’ll come out again, especially given his apparent propensity to ignore orders and throw himself into danger?

Heck, the only reason he lets Spider come is that Spider knows where the girls are and, unlike Lo’ak, Spider doesn’t have that same reckless reputation. Spider, in that moment, appears to be able to compartmentalize the fresh trauma well enough to focus on the task at hand, and can be trusted to do as Jake asks. Lo’ak…can’t. So, Jake wants him to stay behind.

Did he express it horribly? Absolutely. But saying one stupid insensitive thing in a moment of numbness underlaid by grief, pain, and fear does not make him a horrible dad overall, and I think it’s a little unfair to say that it does.

On that note, I do not believe for one moment that Jake genuinely blames Lo’ak for Neteyam’s death. Now, Lo’ak may well view it that way and I’m sure it’ll come into play for his character arc in future movies, which can be a topic for another day, but as for Jake’s perspective, no. I don’t think he truly blames Lo’ak. Even if he couldn’t necessarily process it all right away, I think he knows that Lo’ak is going through as much heartbreak as the rest of the family…especially given that Jake himself has firsthand experience losing a brother. He just said something dumb in a moment of pain.

(On the topic of Lo’ak being unable to follow orders, less than five minutes after Jake, Neytiri, and Spider leave for the ship, Lo’ak…immediately disobeys the order to stay safe on the island and heads back out to the ship anyways. Obviously in the grand scheme of things it’s good that he was there to save Jake from drowning after the scuffle with Quaritch, but still, good gracious son. Way to spectacularly prove your dad’s point.)

So now we come to the point where Lo’ak saves Jake’s life. After a mutual choke-out with Quaritch, Jake is left to drown until Lo’ak finds him and pulls him to the surface, at which point he gasps for air and chokes out Neteyam’s name.

This can be interpreted in a few ways. It could be that Jake is so accustomed to Neteyam being the “responsible” one that he irrationally thought it was him coming to the rescue, momentarily forgetting he had died or somehow thinking maybe by some stroke of fate he pulled through after all—this seems to be Lo’ak’s assumption, given that he promptly corrects him.

Now, some may take Jake’s “oh, Lo’ak…” as a show of favoritism, or proof that Jake values his first son above his second. I don’t think this is the case though—I don’t think Jake’s apparent disappointment is about Lo’ak being there so much it’s about Neteyam not being there. In other words, it’s not a personal slight against or disappointment in Lo’ak, but rather a form of still-very-raw grief for Neteyam who, remember, only just died, like, an hour ago.

It could also be that Jake is still so distraught following Neteyam’s death that it’s consuming his thoughts…he was able to shove it down and compartmentalize long enough to fight the recoms and get Tuk and Kiri off the boat, but that compartmentalization broke down while he was literally drowning and it took him a minute to focus and put things back together (which he manages to do a moment later when Lo’ak tries to apologize for his brother’s death):

The most excruciating interpretation I’ve seen is Jake thinking he had drowned and is rejoining Neteyam in the afterlife. ouch. Though that is, of course, just speculation.

Regardless, at this point Jake has just about given up. He’s exhausted, he’s in agony, both physically and emotionally. He’s completely drained. He wants Lo’ak to live but is ready to give up on himself (“I can’t make it. You can.”). It’s only when Lo’ak insists:

...that Jake realizes he still needs to press forward. Because his other kids still need him. His other son still needs him and he’s not willing to give up on him. So he takes a deep breath (literally), puts his trust in Lo’ak, and lets his son lead him through the flooded passageways out of the wreck. When they finally break the surface, we have this lovely moment:

This moment is a resolution to one of Lo’ak’s primary emotional conflicts throughout the movie: living in the shadow of his legendary war hero father and prodigious older brother, finally getting the recognition and affirmation he so craved from that father. Some might argue that in terms of “ideal” parenting that this kind of moment should have come sooner, or that Jake’s recognition of his son should never have been in doubt in the first place, and while there may be some truth to that, I struggle to really blame Jake for it for reasons I just spent the past 4000 words discussing. I think the fact that this moment happened at all shows that despite their clashes and struggles and miscommunications, Jake does and always has cared very deeply about Lo’ak; his lectures and frustrations come not out of malice or some personal distaste, but out of fear for his well-being.

We see Jake comforting Lo’ak again after the family returns to Neteyam’s body on the rocks.

As I said before, I don’t think for even the briefest moment Jake genuinely blames Lo’ak for Neteyam’s death. I don’t think he would be comforting him like this if he did.

…which, I suppose, brings us to Neteyam’s funeral, and Jake and Neytiri visiting his spirit within Eywa. No parent should ever have to bury their child and good golly gracious this scene ripped my heart out but I digress. I don’t even really have a lot of commentary to add to these scenes…just…just this. It speaks for itself.

look me in the eye and tell me this man “doesn’t care about his sons”. I flipping DARE you.

Well, that concludes the debunking of scenes that supposedly make Jake a bad father. But before we go, let’s look just briefly at this scene of him being a good dad with Kiri. I didn’t mention this earlier because while I’ve seen a lot of complaints about Jake’s interactions with Neteyam and especially Lo’ak, few people have qualms with the way Jake treats Kiri and Tuk—in fact, many people claim that he shows favoritism to his daughters, going out of his way “baby” them and treat them more gently and lovingly than his sons. I disagree and hope the above has done a thorough job dispelling that notion: Kiri and Tuk don’t go around throwing themselves headlong into the same kind of danger that Neteyam and Lo’ak do. They aren’t begging to participate in battle, they aren’t disobeying orders that land them in mortal peril.

In other words: Jake lectures his sons more than his daughters out of necessity, not nepotism. Remember: Jake’s #1 priority is protecting his family, keeping them all safe and alive. That means that when one of his kids pulls a stupid stunt that puts them in danger he feels the need to crack down on that in hopes of preventing it from happening again. Lo’ak is, quite frankly, prone to pulling those kind of stunts, so he gets lectured a lot. Kiri and Tuk do not typically pull such stunts, so they don’t get lectured. It’s as simple as that, really.

Buuuuuut now that we’ve cleared that up, let’s talk just briefly about Jake comforting Kiri.

Like with the scene of visiting Neteyam’s spirit, I don’t have much commentary to add to this scene—it’s a very sweet scene and it speaks for itself really. Jake is very gentle and doing his best to listen to Kiri, even if he is a little unsure about her claims. He doesn’t criticize or invalidate, he just tries to be there for her. What can I say, that’s a good dad right there ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

One last little point before we wrap up for real: the fact that Lo’ak and Neteyam occasionally refer to Jake as “sir”. I was originally planning to address this earlier but it didn’t quite fit in with the flow of the discussion and I consider it such a minor point anyways, I figured I could save it for a side note—but seriously, it baffles me what a big deal people make of this.

It would be one thing if “sir” was something that Jake strictly enforced, if it was the only thing he allowed the kids to address him as, if one of them called him “Dad” and he barked back, “no! it is sir!” But…literally none of that is the case. He never explicitly asks them to call him “sir”, and they call him “Dad” just as often if not more.

The kids referring to Jake as “sir” in tense moments is a simple show of respect, nothing more. I recall my own dad also wanting to be called “sir” when we were in trouble and it was never really an issue. And I suppose your milage may vary depending on where you live, but growing up in the southern US, “sir” and “ma’am” are just very common basic courtesy in many situations (not just familial).

Sooooo….yeah, the idea that Neteyam and Lo’ak occasionally calling Jake sir is somehow proof of Jake being too strict or cold or whatever else is really making a mountain out of a molehill. It’s not that deep y’all.

…aaaand I suppose that’s it for this post.

In conclusion:

Look guys, Jake does not have to be your favorite character. You don’t even have to like him, or agree with everything that he says or does. He isn’t perfect (which, by the way, literally no one is). But if nothing else, I hope this behemoth of a post has at least helped you understand his character and why he acts and reacts the way that he does.

Jake Sully may not be a shining beacon of parental perfection from a psychological development perspective (and all things considered, expecting him to be such is, quite frankly, a little silly), but good golly gracious he is trying his absolute darnedest in incredibly difficult and precarious circumstances beyond his control i.e. the RDA coming back to quite literally take over. This man’s family means absolutely everything to him and I’m done sitting back and watching y’all slander him just because he didn’t react to x situation the way you think he should have.

thank you and good night

#avatar #avatar 2 #way of water #jake sully #lo'ak

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somnambulic-thing · 1 year

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art student!reader x life drawing model!Eddie Munson

E 18+, so nsfw Words: 7048 read on ao3

find the sequel here

Paint It Black Summery: You’re frustrated with your latest work and look for distraction by attending the open life drawing class on what looks like a very ordinary Thursday. Eddie, the new model, is everything but ordinary but definitely a distraction.

CW/tags: characters somewhere in their twenties, meet-wild, smut, fluff, some sort of voyeurism/public erection, gets a little rough, unprotected sex, piv penetration, oral for everybody, v fingering, biting, love marks, talky sex, aftercare, art school bullshit, messy sex, artsy sex (I guess), love at first sight (I guess)

A/N: @edsforehead made me do it. (thank you so much)

comments and reblogs are so appreciated

The air is cold, stinging your cheeks as you ride your bike through a clear and crisp winter morning. It does wonders for waking you up and clearing your mind; you had spent way too long in your studio last night, hovering over this painting that just wouldn’t go the way you wanted. Inside your mind, you hoisted it off the wall to place it right in the middle of the room, a bucket of thick black paint in one hand, the other one dipping in until the medium reached your wrist. You drop down to your knees and get to work, blacking the wretched thing out one large swoop of your arm after another, sending hours of work into oblivion.

Oh my, it was so tempting. Your fingertips tickle with the urge to turn your frustration into something wild and rough and… simple.

But your Professor had sworn to make your life very hard if he ever got wind of you destroying one of your works again, so you followed the advice he had given you: You had decided to take a break. Do something different, something simple, something rewarding and easy to clear your mind to recharge your drained batteries.

So it is Thursday and you crawled out of bed after four measly hours of sleep to go to the life drawing class. You are early as always to get one of the good spots. The small auditorium is still empty except for your teacher who is busy untangling the cords of the various space heaters that will keep the model warm for the next hours.

“Ah,” he says as he sees you, “haven’t seen you here in a while.”

“Yeah, been busy wasting paint.” You smile and walk down the steps of the middle aisle and drop your bag on the best chair: first platform, second chair on the right from the aisle. It had the perfect distance and angle and the top of the backrest of first row to put your feet on so you could rest your paper on your thighs and wouldn’t have to struggle through two hours and a half hours of numb feet.

“Good decision to waste some graphite instead today,” your teacher says and grins. “I’m excited to see your progress.”

You hum, unpacking your supplies. “Who’s the model today? Someone familiar?”

“No, actually, I finally could recruit someone new. He should already be here though. Maybe he has difficulties finding us.” The building was old and could be confusing if you never set foot in it before.

“He,” you say, sharpening your pencil. “Guess it’s my lucky day.”

Male models were rare - maybe two out of ten sessions - and you start to get excited about coming in today.

Your teacher climbs up the stairs past you, “I’ll go and see if he’s wandering around somewhere.”

—

The room fills with students; you say your How are you?’s and What are you working on?’s and when the clock shows 9:37, you brace yourself for the session getting cancelled. Just then, the door opens and your teacher hurries down the stairs.

“Good morning everybody. Sorry for the delay, our model got lost in our hallways. Let’s hear: anybody working on something particular and has some requests for poses?”

You crane your neck up to the back of the room towards the overflowing coat rack while your teacher keeps going through the usual procedure.

The model’s back is turned and you see a long black coat being shrugged off of lean shoulders and underneath: more black. Black lines of ink meandering out of the sleeves of a black shirt; a harsh contrast against pale skin. Ringed hands come up to the back of his head to put the long dark wavy hair into a bun.

No! you plead internally, surprised by that strong reaction.

He chooses the far left aisle down, almost disappearing behind the rows of students but your eyes follow him with a burning curiosity as if you wouldn’t get the chance to look at him for hours in a moment. You shake your head and open your sketchbook to do just anything but stare. There was a difference between observing and staring and the latter wasn’t fucking appropriate inside this room.

“Everybody,” your teacher announces, “this is Eddie. Eddie has never done this before so be patient and just let him know if he’s moving too much.”

You look up and grind your teeth. This Eddie is fucking gorgeous.

“Uhm, hi!” he smiles into the room then looks back at your teacher. “So, uh, I just get naked or what?”

Everybody laughs, but you don’t. You’re taking a long slow breath.

“That’s the general idea,” your teacher grins. “You can put your things on that table in the corner and then just come back to this spot.”

But Eddie does not move to the mentioned corner, he simply pulls off his shirt and throws it the distance to the table. More tattoos come to light; all black, no color. He then kicks off his shoes and you watch his fingers as they open his belt and his fly, how they lodge into the hem of his black, frayed jeans and pull them down in one swoop. There are giggles as he throws the bundle, aiming at the table like he’s at the bowling alley, completely naked.

And then you realize, Eddie didn’t wear any underwear.

“The rings too, please.”

“Oh, sure.” He picks them off his fingers; one two three from one hand and one more from the other. Eddie looks at them on his palm for a moment and grins. “Nah, not gonna throw those.”

The class giggles again as Eddie takes two three long strides to the table to put his rings down carefully and prances back, taking his spot in the middle of the small platform surrounded by space heaters.

There is a soft crack coming from your lap and you look down to see that you had pushed your pencil to the paper so hard that you’d broken the tip.

—

It’s as always: a series of short poses to warm up. One minute, then three and up from there.

Except it is not like always. You're flustered, you’re hot and you spend way too long staring, not finishing any of the one-minute poses.

This has never happened to you before and you had been presented with a lot of good-looking people over the years but this guy was something else.

Three-minute poses and Eddie is slouched back in a chair, long legs spread, left arm resting on top of his head, the right one on his thigh. This was sinful. You just corrected the angle of his left thigh for the third time when you look up and find him looking right back at you. No lost glance into the distance over your shoulder, no: your eyes meet. And those eyes are big and dark and curious and he holds the gaze for several seconds before the timer beeps and announces the change of poses.

He’s not only beautiful and scorching hot but also incredibly adorable. He’s giddy between poses, shaking his arms and legs - and with that his cute little ass - bouncing on his toes and you start to think that holding still normally isn’t his forte. When he lies on his belly, soft gaze on the floor, he tries to stifle a yawn once, twice and only lets it out when he’s allowed to move again. You like his dedication.

Five-minute poses and you finally get into the flow; things start to make sense on the paper until you find him looking at you again. And not only that: he mouthes a small 'Hi'. You bite your lip and look down, feeling the looks of some of the students on you.

He’s cross-legged, leaning back, hands braced on the ground behind him. The angle is weird and it doesn’t help that the way his lean, inked chest moves every time he takes a breath makes you want to bite down on those sharp collarbones. You hold your sketchpad in your outstretched arms doing those quick back-and-forth glances to find out where to correct the mess when his eyes move back to you. Every time you meet his gaze makes your spine tingle more and more and you have to bite down on your lip again to not let a fucking noise slip from your mouth.

Ten-minute poses and your teacher has made it to you to give you some feedback. Nothing you hadn’t expected: you go about it too complicated, want to do too much in too little time, too much detail. Eddie is stretched out on his back and smirks towards the ceiling.

On the next round of feedback, he tells you to really look at Eddie’s hips. You get the angle wrong, it throws off the stance, and you know why all your stupid drawings look a little wonky: you try to avoid looking at his cock for too long. You never thought about a penis as a cock before in this class and it drives you up the walls seeing it twitch slightly while your teacher keeps explaining things you already know and you’re forced to stare at Eddie's crotch, knowing he's side-eying you and your flustered expression the whole. Damn. Time.

Eddie gets a brief pause to stretch and have some water and you want revenge. While his back is turned to you - shoulder blades rippling deliciously under his skin - you open the top two buttons of your blouse, sliding the collar off your shoulder.

One final five-minute pose before the session ends with a twenty-fiver and Eddie is crouched down with his knees pulled under his chin. He shuffles a little before he really settles, tilting his head slightly in a way that forces him to look in your direction unless he wants to lower his eyes to the floor for five minutes.

When he finally looks up, you’re waiting for him, head titled yourself exposing the side of your neck down to your shoulder where your bra strap is barely holding onto your skin.

Eddie’s eyes widen and you smile, tongue poking out just a little to lick your bottom lip before you focus on the paper in your lap to roughly map out the pose. You don’t linger on him while you draw, quick glances only, but you can feel his gaze heavy on you.

This sketch is turning out to be the best so far. You lean back a little, biting down on the back of your pencil and start rolling your shoulders. One gets stiff sitting like that for so long, so people stretch all the time and nobody will notice that you’re giving Eddie a little show. You tilt your head to the right and run a hand over the muscles in your neck, massaging the achy spot right beyond your skull for a moment. When you give in to look down at him, you do it from under your lashes, taking the pencil stuck in your mouth between two fingers and let your tongue play with it ever so slightly.

Eddie takes a deep breath; you can see it in the way his shoulders rise and his knees are pressed forward. You grin and he pulls up his brows and you can’t tell if he begs you to stop or go on.

Twenty-five-minute pose and the crowd demands him to stand.

“Twenty-five minutes of standing is ok?” your teacher asks Eddie, who hasn’t jumped up like a spring toy after the timer rang.

“Uhm, yeah,” he says, legs still drawn to his torso. “Sure thing, uh-hn.”

It takes him another beat to push himself up and come to a stand. Your eyes wander from the top of his cheeks, tinted in a pretty pink, down to those hips to find him not exactly half hard, but on a good way to it. You feel your eyes roll up.

Shit.

Your teacher instructs him how to stand, feet wider apart - a little more, perfect - arms crossed over his chest which too is now slightly pink. His biceps’ flex a few times as he waits for more instructions.

“Can you turn a little, to the left?” a guy in the top row asks and Eddie does.

“Like this?”

Like this you get him in a three-quarter-view and your heart is racing; will he look at you again or did you push it too far?

“Anything else?” your teacher asks and you want to bite down on your tongue but instead it’s moving and forming words.

“Can we have the hair down for this last one?”

Eddie’s head snaps up, catching you in the middle of your request. He pinches his eyes shut at the approval of your fellow students. Below the waist, he’s twitching again.

Loosening his hair tie, Eddie musses around in his dark waves with practised fingers until he seems satisfied with what he sees in the mirror across the room. You suppress a moan, breaking the tip of your pencil again. He’s not looking at you, this time choosing to turn down his eyes while his face points in your general direction again. You curse at yourself internally; you should have just gone to him after the session and slipped him your number or asked him if he was busy after this while the both of you were still flooded with whatever this was and—

Shit!

Whatever Eddie is thinking while not looking at you did not help with what was going on in his loins. That pretty cock was getting bigger: half-hard-hello! And judging by his current state, he was big. You involuntarily grind your hips on your chair and drop your pencil in the process. A groan escapes you, sounding much too pleasant for a case of dropped art supplies and you bend down to get it back. When you come up, brown eyes are waiting for you. There is a smile playing around them while his pretty pink lips are slightly pressed together. Thank god he doesn’t look mad or annoyed, only the blush giving away that something was going on.

You can’t help it, you’re biting your lip, eyes wandering between his face and his cock and his brows draw slightly together before he averts his eyes again, breathing a few times: deep and slow.

Deep and slow.

Holy shit you are throbbing and wet and all you can do is fake another stretch and while shuffling around, press your thighs together for a little bit of friction. You tilt your hips down slightly and the sensation is so good and welcome that your eyes pinch close and your back arches. The movement is jerkily and you stretch your arms over your head to conceal it, slowly opening your eyes again.

Eddie is watching. Eddie is hard.

You grab your pencil and start drawing the spectacle in front of you; concentration isn’t the right word for the sharp focus that settles over you. It’s fucking lust.

It’s not the first hard-on you’ve seen in this class, not by any means. It happens now and then and usually a slight blush from the model was the only reaction. But this wasn’t any hard dick: you did this. You did this to this gorgeous man and you wanted to capture this with your own hands. In case he just bolted right after the session, you would have something to remember this.

You’re leaning in, literally, sketch pad balancing on your knees and bent over your thighs you almost forget the additional loosened buttons on your blouse until you catch those eyes directed at your chest. Seems like Eddie figured the damage was done anyway so why hold back now?

And fucking hell was that precum glistening at the tip?

This is when the timer starts announcing the end of class.

Eddie shoots you one final look, a sharp grin, a slight shake of the head, tips of his hair tickling his shoulders and hops off his little platform to get dressed.

“Holy shit,” says the guy next to you, leaning over. “Have you seen that dick?”

You huff a laugh that throbs in your pussy. “Hard to overlook.”

“Exactly,” he groans and picks up his things.

—

You look at drawings of Eddie of all kinds. They are all beautiful, even the bad ones. You rub your forehead catching that corny thought and look across the room where Eddie is talking to two people, gesturing to the drawings on the floor, laughing. The two of you are slowly moving towards each other. The journey consists of looking, talking: This is a good one! and That one is crap, right? and glancing to your right. You reach the row with your own stuff, groaning internally at how very off everything looks, everything but two.

Suddenly, a chest presses to your back and an arm sneaks past you to point at a drawing.

“That’s amazing.”

The explosion in your insides barely travels to your voice and you’re impressed with yourself. He even smells amazing. “Thank you.”

“Oh, that’s one of yours then?”

You turn to face him. The smile on his face is obscene.

“Hi.”

“Hi, Eddie.”

The smile shrinks a little and his nostrils flare with the air he pulls in. His voice is low and deep when he speaks. “You… uh, made that a very hard job to do.”

“I’m almost sorry,” you croon. His face is way too close; one uptilt of your head and you could bite his plush bottom lip.

“Don’t be,” he licks the spot you just imagined nibbling on. “I didn’t start it for nothing.”

You both jump when someone hijacks your moment. “Those detailed studies are really nice.”

“Yeah, right?” Eddie says with genuine enthusiasm. “Almost the only ones who got some of my tattoos…”

“Uhg, tattoos are hard in that short time, man and you know, not really anatomy.”

The exchange goes back and forth a little longer until Eddie loops his arm under yours and not so causally pulls you in the direction you’d come from under the disguise of looking at sketches.

“So, uh, what are you doing, like, right after this?”

“You, I hope.”

“Shit…” he shakes his head, hair falling into his face. “You’re killing me already… where do you want to go?”

You think about this for a moment, greedy and soaking through your panties you’re in no mood to wait much longer to have him naked again.

“I have a studio two corridors down…”

His brows shoot up. “You ahm…” he blurts out, then lowers his voice, “want to do me here at school?”

“Yes, Eddie… like the pretty little muse you are.”

—

His hand is warm in yours as you pull him along behind you through the hallway past your fellow students who throw curious glances over their shoulders.

Eddie catches up to your side and leans close to your ear, “Are you already wet for me? The way you moved on that chair…”

“Drenched,” you breathe against his neck and almost stumble over your own feet. Eddie sneaks his arm around you, keeping you steady.

“Easy, sweetheart. Let me be the one to bruise you, ok? I’ll do it in aaall the nice places.”

You stare at him, mouth hanging open.

“Promise,” he adds, tapping the tip of your nose, a devilish smile spreading on his face.

You drag him on and he laughs behind you until he catches up again. There is a brief moment where you leave him in the middle of the empty foyer to get your key from the doorman, interrupting his lunch break, praying to whoever deity will listen to your horny call that none of your studio mates is in there already. You almost moan when the guy hands the key to you and you bump into Eddie’s chest face first when you turn around in a hurry.

“Fuck you’re so pretty,” he rasps, takes your face in his large hands and bends down to press a hot kiss to your mouth. Your fists close around the lapel of his coat as he licks along your teeth until your tongue finds him. The world around you feels vague and unimportant until the doorman behind you knocks against the glass of his booth.

“I don’t need to see this, folks.”

This time Eddie takes your hand and walks on. “Show me the way, babe, or I’ll have to hoist you up one of those windowsills… you people are doing performance art here, right?”

Eddie is mumbling filthy things at you the whole way down the empty corridor where your shared studio is the last room on the left. You try to fumble the key into the lock and drop it because Eddie is already busy bruising your neck. Pressed flat to your back he brushed your hair to the side and started sucking at the spot just below your ear, his hands sneaking around you, cupping your tits through your blouse. As you bend down to pick up the key, Eddie grabs your hips and rolls his own against you, almost pushing you into the door. You both laugh and he pulls you up by your waist.

“Sorry,” he chuckles as you finally unlock the door. “I couldn’t help myself.”

You let him inside and lock the door behind you.

“What’s your workspace?” he asks, already poking his nose into things. “No! Don’t tell me… it’s… this one.”

“How did you know?” you ask surprised, taking off your coat and fully unbuttoning your blouse while he looks at your work lined up on the wall, hand on his chin like a proper little art critic.

“Well, I saw your drawings and this stuff here… it has the same… Duktus?”

“Christ,” you moan and he looks at you. “That was so sexy.”

“Hey, you’re starting without me?”

Eddie rushes to you, hands instantly sliding inside your open blouse against your bare skin. His hands are rough, calloused in some places and the slight scratch is making you shiver in his arms. He pulls the fabric off of you and drops it to the ground. His coat falls next, then his shirt. Eddie hisses as you sink your teeth into his collarbone as soon as you have access to them.

“Too much?”

His eyes are lidded and so very dark as he shakes his head. “Just start pulling my hair too and you’ll never get rid of me again…”

“That a threat or another promise?” you purr as you open his belt and fly over the impressive bulge in his pants.

“Which one turns you on more?” You hook your fingers into his waistband and drop to your knees, pulling his pants down with you, making his breath hitch. “Oh, s-shit…”

This is the close-up you've been yearning for all morning. Fully hard and flushed a deep pink already; you wonder if it will feel as heavy on your tongue as it looks. You run a finger along the underside and it twitches again, bobbing up and down in front of your face. You lean in, stick out your tongue and give the swollen tip a lick that makes Eddie whimper above you.

Again you meet his eyes and the expression in them is so unexpectedly soft that you almost whimper too. Your cunt is clenching around horrible nothingness as you lick him again, flat tongue sliding along the underside, feeling a vein, tasting salt, watching those big brown eyes roll up and close as a moan escapes him.

“You’re gorgeous, holy shit.” You firmly grip his cock around the base and stroke him a few times, your mouth watering, before you close your lips around the tip, your tongue swirling in lazy circles around it. Eddie’s breath is uneven and laced with soft moans from his glistening parted lips while you softly play around with his cock. Every twitch of his face is a delight, the way his abdomen tenses when you press small kisses to the length of his shaft makes you swoon with adoration. You reach up one hand to trace up the lines of a tattoo on his ribcage and he catches it, pressing it flat against his chest. Eddie’s heartbeat pounds against your palm and you moan around his cock.

“Holy… fuck… I wanna watch you so bad but I don’t know if I can take it.”

“You can take it, big boy,” you say in a low voice. “Look at me.”

It takes him a few more seconds until he opens his eyes and looks down at you; the moment you lock eyes you take him down as far as you can. A string of loud but mostly intangible curses echoes through the large room as you suck him down again and again in long leisurely motions. Your lips stretched around his girth curl up into a smile when his hands look for something to hold onto in your hair and you place your index finger at the corner of your mouth without stopping your onslaught to signal him to keep the volume down.

“Sorry, ah fuck fuck FUCK… I’ll try… shit I’m balls deep in your mouth and still don’t know your name—”

You don’t want to stop, not even for the moment to tell him your name. There’s a big portfolio folder leaning against the wall and you point in the general direction before running your fingers through the dark curls around his base and up the trail to his stomach while he’s trying to figure out what you’re showing him, failing at his attempt to stay quiet.

Then he says it: your name, no, he moans it. And he doesn’t fucking stop.

Suddenly your abdomen is on fire and you have to pull back to catch your breath. But you can’t, not really, because Eddie has kicked off his pants the rest of the way, dropped to the floor and pushed you to your back to peel you out of your clothes.

The floor is cold under your ass and back and you thump your head a little as he wraps his arms around your thighs and pulls you closer to him.

“Shit, you okay?”

“Yeah,” you giggle, “keep manhandling me.”

Eddie grins like the devil himself and goes to work. He’s everywhere: kissing, lapping biting at your mouth, your jaw your neck your tits, his fingers pushed into your thighs and you know it will bruise. He’s keeping his promise, leaving wet tingling marks all over you, a purple trail of small galaxies. His fingers find your cunt, finally, and Eddie eats the moan out of your mouth.

“Shh,” he says with a cocky laugh, his forehead pressed to yours, two fingers circling your clit in dragging motions. “You’re loud, beautiful. You don’t want us to get caught before I had a chance to fuck you.”

“N-no… ahhh.” Two thick fingers slide into you and your muscles grip down hard at the sudden intrusion.

“Hi,” he grins down at you as if he wasn’t just pounding your g-spot out of nowhere and making you see stars.

You hold on to his face, grappling for purchase and finally wind your fingers into this wild tickling hair and pull.

“Jesus, finally!”

“I— I’m so close.”

“Keep holding on,” he groans and moves down your body, fingers stilling for a moment.

You keep your hands in his hair, pulling in frustration from the ebbing pleasure.

“Of course, you have the prettiest fucking pussy, you—“ he doesn’t finish his thought, diving in with his tongue to lap at your clit like he’d been starving for you his whole life.

You bite the back of your hand to keep from yelling out at the sight alone. His eyes meet yours, of course they do and he sucks one of your lips into his mouth.

“You’re a fucking tease, Eddie… what’s your last name?”

“Munson,” he mumbles against your core and keeps on feasting.

“You’re a fucking tease, Eddie Munson… ahhh don’t stop please.”

And he doesn’t. He gives you his fingers and his mouth, his eyes fixed on you— well, most of the time, he keeps looking to a spot behind you but you have no time to inquire as your legs start to tremble and everything inside you starts to tense and pulse and you’re coming apart under his mouth before you’ve really seen it coming.

Yeah, that guy was something else.

When you’ve come down he gently pulls his fingers from you and litters your thighs and belly with kisses. His fingers are sticky against your skin but a slight roughness remains.

Your head lolls against the floor while you’re still blissed out and Eddie still puts those feathery kisses to your skin.

“You… you’re a musician…” you drawl out.

He looks up. “Yeah! How do you know?”

You take his hand from your chest and lick your wetness from his fingers before you turn his palm to him, sliding a fingertip over the calloused skin.

“You like that?” he grins.

You let go of his hand and nod. “Something with strings?”

“Guitar. And vocals.”

“Fuck you, you’re way too hot as it is…” you squeeze him with your thighs and his eyes go to that spot behind you again before he kisses your chest.

“What do you keep looking at?” you wiggle and crane your neck. It’s that painting. The one that has been haunting you for weeks.

“Sorry,” he scrunches up his nose. “I don’t know, draws me in somehow… it’s… weird… sorry.”

“No, no, don’t be…” you say and pull him up to you, kissing him. “You’re right.”

“Yeah?” he glances over again. “Well, fuck… yeah… m’ not gonna lie to you it’s kinda terrifying.” You both laugh. The warmth in your chest only expands more.

“Want to slather me in paint and fuck me against it?”

Eddie’s eyes widen as he glances between your face and the canvas. “Yes? Fuck yes!”

He pulls you up and into a hungry kiss, his thick cock hard against your belly.

“Is that stuff safe to use?” he points his chin to some paint tubes on the trolley in the corner.

“No, oh god, no. But…” you leave him to look for a large bottle of black paint letting out a triumphant ha when you find it. You turn around beaming. “This here is… and will wash out of hair with no problem.”

“Come here…” he curls his finger to beckon you to him. “And hand that over.”

“Is that turning you on?” you ask as you join him.

“You have no idea.” Eddie takes the paint from you and wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling your back to his chest. “You’re so pretty already with all my marks on you.” He walks you over to the canvas that way, his lips pressed close to your ear.

You turn in his arm and reach for his cock, stroking him softly. “How do you want me?”

“Fuck if I know… gimme a second and don’t stop that.” He looks at the canvas, really thinking about this. You suddenly want to pull his hair again. “Hands above your head, babe,” he says, opening the bottle of paint and squirts a generous amount into his hand. “Keep them clean. You have to put me inside you.”

You lean against the canvas; it’s large, so large that your outstretched arms above your head just graze the wooden frame inside.

Eddie’s hands are dripping black paint as he grabs your hips, bends down and sucks your nipple into his mouth before he kisses up to the crook of your shoulder to suck on you once more. “One last one before I make a mess out of you.” The contrast between the warmth of his lips and the cool paint as he slides his hands up your sides to your ribs makes you squirm and whimper. Eddie steps back to look at his work.

“Fuck, I’m an artist.”

He grabs the bottle from the floor and gets more paint, letting it drip right to your tits before smudging with splayed fingers. You watch him, mesmerized. When he is satisfied, he spins you around and pats your thigh as a sign to widen your stance. You feel him shuffle behind you as he presses himself against you and your chest against the canvas.

“Ready?”

You reach down, fumbling in the air for a moment before you find him. “You ready?”

“Ye—ahhhh, you little minx,” he groans as you line him up and push back on him half the way. He holds you steady and slides in the rest of the way breathing out a long low fuuuuck. Then he stills. “Are you holding your breath? You ok?”

You are more than ok and you let the air out, your forehead dropping against the canvas. “It was that or letting everybody in the building know I’m getting stretched real fucking good right now…”

He angles your hips back and pushes closer. “Yeah, you are… shit, you’re unreal.”

“And you’re big. Gimme a moment.”

“All the time you want, I’m cosy here.”

While you get used to the stretch, Eddie caresses your back, rubbing small circles up the sides of your spine.

“I have a show next Tuesday,” he says kissing your shoulder. “Would love to see you in the first row.”

“Wouldn’t miss it… I assume it’s something hard?” you wiggle your ass, making you both sigh.

“You like it hard?” he laughs. “Music, I mean.”

“I do.”

“’Course you do. Can I fuck you now? Please?”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Before the paint dries.”

He starts slow, pulling out almost all the way and sliding back in till he bottoms out. Your front slides against the canvas blackening out parts of it in big splotches.

“How’s this?” He’s so careful it makes your throat feel tight.

“You feel in-incredible.” You push back, meeting his thrusts as he picks up the pace.

“You’re incredible, sweetheart.”

Then you’re just getting lost in each other. His movements get rougher, more confident as he thrusts into you. You feel him deep inside you lighting little fires everywhere. A hand presses to the canvas next to your head, an arm loops around your waist and you yelp as he sharply slams into you. You beg him to do it again but he’s already on it, relentlessly fucking you into the canvas. Most of the paint is dry now, it’s prickling on your skin. Eddie moans your name into your ear, squeezing your tits and you squeeze your muscles around his cock.

“Shhh, babe…” you chuckle after he cries out.

“Fuck you,” he laughs hoarsely into your hair.

You’re so close again and you slip your hand between your legs but Eddie stops and pulls your arm to your back. “No nono, shit, not-not like that…”

“Eddie…”

“Stay like that,” he says and pulls out of you, leaving you empty and confused. There is some shuffling and then he is back behind you. “Going to be cold.”

“What— uhn!”

Paint trickles onto your arched back, sliding down your spine and making you shiver. Eddie gives your ass a little smack and turns you around, crowding you against the canvas, and hoists you up by your thighs.

“Oh my god,” you huff, wrapping your arms around his neck while he balances you out.

“Can’t do that all day but you’re close ‘n I wanna see that face when you come.” He leans you back to create some space between you. “Help me out, put me back inside you…”

You do as you’re told and you clench your thighs hard around his hips as he starts up almost at the same pace he stopped. He kisses you, so sloppy so wet you feel a string of spit between your mouths when he pulls back again to hook his arms under your knees and spreads you open so wide that you’re crying out his name.

“I got you,” he assures you, pounding into you at a new angle, so deep it makes you dizzy. “I got you, you can juuust fall apart…”

The noises you two are making where you’re joined are obscene.

“Holy shit,” you moan, “li-listen… those sounds.”

Eddie drops his head to your shoulder, sweat dripping from his forehead onto you. “Like fucking music…”

You laugh. “Fucking music indeed.”

“God, you’re perfect,” he presses out through a laugh and really leans into you. You grab a thick strand of hair and pull as your insides begin to tense.

“Oh… oh shit, don’t stop.”

The world tilts as he leans you back again. “Wouldn’t dare… touch yourself for me, I need to feel you come around me.”

“Come inside me, yeah?” you rasp as you circle your swollen throbbing clit.

His eyes bore into yours, the strain and pleasure all over his face. He’s a mess as much as you are. “Come on, darling… come for me… I want you to run through my fingers.”

And you swear you do: your head thumps against the wood frame as your muscles try to create a black hole or whatever happens under so much pressure, but who cares when this stupidly perfect man fucks you through the hardest orgasm anyone ever had while looking at you like he was fulfilling his fucking destiny. You can’t hear him over the blood rushing through your ears, but he looks so pretty with his nose scrunched up, a streak of black paint running over the bridge and his eyes shut tight. A few more thrusts and he collapses against your chest with stuttering hips, pinning you so hard against the wall that it drives the air out of you.

There is only breathing, hot air from his lungs against your tickling skin. You cup the back of his head and stroke his hair; he nuzzles deeper into your skin and makes a noise that sounds like fucking home.

“I need to put you down now… sorry.”

He puts you down but doesn’t let go. Kisses cover your face until you cup his cheeks and claim his mouth while he’s dripping down the inside of your thighs.

Then you giggle together, Eddie squeezing your ass with both hands, smiling at you so silly and soft. You’re thirsty, you let him have the bottle first and he gulps the water down, spilling down his chest, creating little rivers of paint that let the ink show through. You want to study those lines up close without twenty people around you, without the blinding fire of lust, but calm, taking your time asking questions.

“What’s going on up there?” he asks, tapping a finger against your forehead.

“I wanna study you some more,” you say, taking the bottle and down what’s left.

He doesn’t ask you what you mean, only tilts his head and smiles. Then he sits down in that worn-out armchair your mate had dragged in a few months ago, still naked, it isn’t time to cover up yet and you find a clean enough rag, climb into his lap and clean the paint off his face as gently as you can.

“Stop,” he grabs your hips, “do you have a camera or something?”

You do and the timer takes too long for you two not to start fooling around before the soft click of the shutter sounds. One more and one more and the film has only two more left and he pulls you in to kiss you just before the camera rewinds.

“You want to join me when I make the prints?”

“You, red light and chemicals?” he grins. “It’s a date.”

The painting is dry already; Guache dries rather fast, you explain to him. It’s itchy, he adds and scratches his chest, small flakes of black falling down to the floor. You sit in front of both your work, your head against his shoulder and your fingers fumbling with a strand of his hair that is stiff with paint.

“You know,” he says, “it would have made a damn good record cover before…”

“You can have a picture… I document every night before I go home.”

“Really? I mean, the picture?”

You brush sweaty hair off his forehead, “I’m sure it’s in good hands with you.”

He almost shoves you over when he kisses you, the giddy streak you saw earlier during class showing when he chuckles and licks your cheek like a puppy.

“It looks really good now though, don’t you think?”

“You’re just horny,” you laugh.

“What? You don’t like our work?” he pouts and this shouldn’t pull at your heart that much.

“I do,” you kiss the pout, “I was just teasing.”

“I mean it,” he looks at the canvas, “It’s a bit crooked and dented now, but that just adds to the charm.”

“It has nothing on you though when it comes to charm.” You lean in with a sultry smile and his palm cups your breast and then—

A knock on the door. “Come on, you still fucking in there? I need to work.”

You look at each other with large eyes and break out laughing, scrambling for your clothes. Eddie hisses sharply when you slap his ass just before he pulls up his jeans and you forgo the bra because one strap did not survive Eddie’s enthusiasm. There is paint sticking out of his collar that you couldn’t clean before your photo shoot and you remember to put the film in your pocket while he kisses your temple because he seems to can’t help himself but stay close to you.

“Ready?” you ask and he grabs your hand and nods, following you out.

“Finally,” your mate says, but smiles when she sees you. “Aren’t you that new model?”

“Muse,” he grins without further explanation.

You hand her the key, mouth a small sorry and admit it when she calls you out on your lie.

His hand is warm in yours, his thumb playing with your knuckles as you walk back through the hallway.

“So,” he says, “we gonna shower at your or my place?”

#Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x afab!reader #Eddie Munson smut #somnambulic-thing #my fic

757 notes · View notes

xenizaation · 11 months

Text

permanent

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

genre: angst, friends to lovers, smut

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

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

word count: 12.6k

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

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

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

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

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

"Me!"

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

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

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

"Yeah, wassup?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pity.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thursday.

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

*****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You can begin anytime." you sigh out and feel him shifting a bit underneath you. He chuckles lowly and it takes him a few moments to adjust to the situation presented before him, it would be strange to you too. These were exactly the kind of things that you hesitated to do with San, because you partly knew his feelings for you, so you didn't want to give too much water to the well. Exactly the kind of intimacy that would leave room to hope for more, want more.

And not only from his side.

"I met this girl a while ago," he starts and softly places his hand on top of your head, massaging your scalp and slowly pulling at strands of your hair. "she's the whole package. Smart, funny, kind and so fucking hot." , safe to say you don't expect his last words to hit you like they do. A tad bit of jealousy makes its presence felt in the bottom of your heart, thinking that there might be a possibility that he doesn't refer to you. But the slow strokes his fingers offer your head make you feel too good to give it any importance.

"She's got this thing about her, I don't know how to even say it. It's like every time we talk, we knew each other since birth and like the first time we ever met, all at once. It's incredible, really." the way he talked was how you only heard people talk in movies. Hopeless romantic to the very end.

"Sounds like she's got you head over heels." you huff out slightly annoyed.

"Yeah, you'd be shocked," silence following his words, words that had a heartbroken nuance to them. He continues to massage your head and his touch feels so good, so comforting, so familiar. Like he did it every time he saw you, like he at least imagined doing it every time. "she really loves my stories." he adds after what seems to be like forever, and his hand stops, pulling itself out of your proximity. Your eyes shoot open and you find his gaze upon you. At the same time he looks sad, his eyes are also filled with anticipation, of what is to come, of how you would react to the fact that he just confirmed it was you he talked about. You sit up, trying not to let the slight dizziness in your head get the best of you and turn to him. Faces close to each other, studying him one last time before things change between you two. He wants it. And you clearly want it. Both of you so bad that it's not even a surprise how you meet halfway into a kiss. You thank the universe in your head, for it being this way. For you to not beat yourself up too much later that you initiated anything. So you let yourself sink into the feeling of him, his smell intoxicating. You know that it will be hard to not feel it in your lungs for a long time after this, and you were happy for it to be that way. Your lips are shy at first, not used to kissing anymore, not used to someone who hasn't kissed you before. But the feeling is more than pleasant. He takes his time, slowly nipping away at your bottom lip, swiftly pushing his tongue into your mouth. Your teeth clash and you both smile, licking into each other's mouths a bit more. His lips are soft and so warm, this feeling has long been forgotten by your mind. He pulls away and you gasp for air, he reaches to brush the hair out of your face and cups your face gently, looking into your eyes with a glimmer you were sure you haven't seen on him before. But you knew exactly what it meant.

"I don't want it if you don't." he says, assuring you once again that his actions will only be made for your comfort.

"I can't even tell you how bad I want it." your voice soft as it answers, and after receiving your words with wonder on his face, San downs the whiskey left in his glass, only to rush kissing you right after he gulps it down. If the first kiss was both of you navigating uncharted waters, now you were both desiring more. Hungrily devouring each other, whiskey tasted so much better on his tongue. You climbed into his lap as he pulled you closer to his chest. Serving as a reminder, you needed to get that shirt off of him. And as you helped him get rid of it, you weren't even surprised of how he looked even better than what you kept picturing all night. He returned the favor of undressing you of your shirt, and briefly cupped your breasts through your bra as he pulled you into another kiss. His hands quickly running to your waist, pulling you deeper into his lap, feeling him get hard underneath you, moment by moment. One of his palms traveled down to massage your butt cheek through your jeans, and the other quickly moved up to unhook your bra deftly with steady fingers.

"You must be popular with the ladies." you whisper close to his mouth and he chuckles.

"Not with the ones I want." he replies and you jokingly slap his bicep in response. He pulls the bra off throwing it somewhere nearby and admires your chest for a second too long before taking one of your nipples in his mouth. You throw your head back and whimper at the feeling of his tongue swirling around the sensitive part of your breasts. You tangle your fingers in his hair as you try to slowly ride his thigh, feeling the need to get rid of the tension in some kind of way. He let's your nipple out of his mouth with a lewd pop and laughs as he glues his hand to the back of your head, forcing you to look into his eyes.

"Darling if you want something you just need to ask," he brings his mouth over to your chest, planting sprinkled kisses along your collarbones. "my thigh? my fingers? my cock?" he asks in between suctions on the soft, sensitive skin of your neck. You were so sexually frustrated that you thought you were going to cry, and his words definitely didn't help. If something, they only made the tightness in your belly feel even tighter. "Which one will it be?" he asks finally as his eyes find yours again. You barely manage a pathetic whimper as he let's go of your head to unbutton your jeans. His hand slides slowly until it meets the band of your panties, but it doesn't go further, his eyes stopping on your face.

"Fuck, San, I want everything." you finally verbalize for him, your words laced with desperation for him to take things further. He closes his eyes and smiles in satisfaction when hearing your words, resuming the attack on your neck, biting down some marks here and there. His fingers finally get a hold of your clit and you shudder at the sensation. The circular motions he starts only make you moan his name quietly, through whimpers. It's been so long since you touched yourself like that, let alone somebody else. Masturbation was a thing you couldn't get back into since everything happened. Every time you tried, your mind only pictured Hongjoong, and it always ended with you crying without releasing in any kind of way. That was how you spent the last two years of your life, no wonder you were sexually frustrated. But now, the only thing on your mind was San, and how you could get him to make you cum faster. The position wasn't really a favorable one, he didn't have much access and so, his movements were limited and slow. San sinks his hand further down, teasing your hole with his middle finger, coating it in your arousal.

"You're so wet baby," he slowly pushes his finger into you, wandering into your inside, and your tightness. It did definitely feel like rain after a long drought. He pumped his finger inside you a few times, adding an extra one after a few seconds, stretching you in a way that has become unfamiliar but satisfying all the same. He fastened his pace and you unconsciously started to ride his fingers, chasing after your long awaited release. It wouldn't last too much, taking in consideration that you haven't orgasmed in so long. Your left hand was on San's nape, anchoring you to some sort of reality that he was indeed there, and the other one was on his chest. It wasn't much longer until your body conjured the estranged feeling in your tummy, you were close. San seemed to read your thoughts once again as his movements came to a halt, you offered a frustrated whimper in return. He lifted you up of his lap and placed you on your back next to him. He helped you get rid of your jeans and then your panties.

"I know you want to cum, but I want you to do it in my mouth." his face in between your thighs, breath fanning over your aching core. This time he didn't wait for a verbal response anymore, and you were glad he didn't. His warm tongue licked a long swipe starting from your hole to your clit, his mouth latched to it with sensual movements, sucking and licking at it, taking all the time in the world.

"Ho...ly fu-fuck," you gasped as you threw your head back into the cushion of the couch, arching your back under his ministrations.

His tongue was skilled, and so were his fingers when they slid inside you for the second time tonight. He curled them up, hitting your g-spot every time he pumped them in. Your body shuddered hardly at the sensation.

"Feel good?" he asked looking up at you, for the first time since he positioned you like this, you looked down at him. And what a sight for sore eyes, so lewd that if you looked at it for long enough you would cum without him needing to do anything to you anymore.

"So good," you reply and place one of your hands into his raven hair when he continues abusing your sensitive bud in the best way you could think of, he continues his movements with his tongue and his fingers, and it's only a matter of seconds until it builds up. You pull at his hair as he deepens his head in between the thighs that are now clenched around his head and it finally all becomes too much for you.

"Fuck....San....ahh," you cry out whilst shutting your eyes tightly, thing that makes you see stars in the back of your head.

You feel proud for satisfying his wish. San seems too feel so as well. You come undone on his fingers, and he pulls them out quickly to attend your releasing wetness with his inpatient tongue, you feel as if you could pass out from the soft stimulation. Such a long time since you've had an orgasm and this might have been the best way to have one.

"Fuck, you taste so good," he says as he slowly rises and takes his place above you, letting you have a taste yourself as he kisses you, swirling his wet muscle in every corner of your mouth, making sure none of it is getting left untouched by him. You sure do taste better on his tongue. Feeling his hard dick press on the inside of your thigh, in all its dizziness, your brain only wants more.

"Can we go to the bedroom?" you ask nicely, only to be met once more with San's surprised face. Like the thought that you still might want more never crossed his mind. He helps you up by the waist and lets you guide the way to the room. As you enter the it you quickly run to the bed, throwing yourself on it as you giggle like you're high, and you might as well be. High hormones had the same effect as weed for you. San only shakes his head with a smile on his face, while looking down and getting his belt off. Shit, this is really happening. Really finally happening. He slowly approaches the bed, ridding himself of his pants as he reaches the edge of it. Your friend pulls down his boxers as well, and you watch closely as his erect member is finally out of its entrapment, it springs up vividly, slapping against his torso. You're left in surprise at the sight of his girthy, definitely above average long, cock. You bite your lip involuntarily and he laughs to your reaction.

"You don't need to," you quickly blurt out as soon as you see him pulling a condom from his wallet. "I mean...I'm clean, if so are you then..." well it's safe to say you've became quite a desperate little thing during your two, deprived of sex, years. "then, we don't need to worry." you finish your sentence.

"You sure?" he asks for confirmation once again.

"Yeah, 'm sure." you respond and beckon him with your index finger. He muffles out a swear word you don't quite register as he drops the condom from his hold, quickly climbing on the bed. He crafts a better position above you, kissing you gently as he lines up his tip with your entrance. You whine in anticipation, lips still attached to his own, softer ones. He slowly pushes himself inside, taking lots of time to make sure your tightness grows comfortable around him. It hurts. Not only it is the first time with San, it felt like the first time altogether. At first, it seemed like your damn hymen grew back. Ironic, considering the amount of sex you used to have. You frowned as you whimpered softly into his mouth. He quickly broke the kiss, watching you with a slightly panicked look on his face.

"Hey, you all right?" he brushed the hair out of your face with his right hand, holding his weight on his left arm. You slowly started to get used to him, your whole body relaxing noticeably when seeing his face.

"Yeah, you can move." you stated with a voice glazed with desire. He did as asked, moving his hips in slow strokes, every time trying to deepen himself more inside you. He groaned each time his dick reached a new part of you.

"Fucking hell, how are you so fucking tight?" he lets out in a tone that almost seems annoyed with the state of your pussy.

"You...are the first...since then." you speak in between craving moans. He shudders at your words, stopping for a second, as he buries his forehead in the crook of your neck.

"Well, damn, princess. Should've let me stretch you out sooner." he whispers into your ear. And that is by far the most obscene thing that has left his lips tonight. He started moving again, this time picking a pace that had you crying out for his name. You couldn't think of much else when San was fucking you, his cock kindly brushing over a certain sweet spot every time it reached its depth. His dick and your pleasure occupied most of the place inside you and your mind, respectively. But at one point, you did try to recall how exactly you ended up right there. Somewhere along the way of finding the answer, you realized it didn't matter how, it mattered that it did. And the strokes that San was driving into you only made you thank the universe that it happened. Following after his release, he increased his speed. His voice was starting to get raspy after groaning and moaning, as did yours, both of your throats dry now.

"I...I think I'm gonna cum..." he whispered in your ear, and you immediately understood the question hiding behind his words. Your mind was in a state of debate for a few too many seconds. In or out? The only person that ever came in was him. In or out? But you wanted San to cum inside you so badly. In or out? That wouldn't be fair. In or out? But why wouldn't it be?

"Inside." you determinately say. His movements begin to grow messy, losing rhythm. He immerses into you deep, almost knocking you out with the way his cock is so richly stuffed inside you, and he let's out an angelic cry as he fills you up with white ropes of his hot seed. With his forehead glued to your shoulder, San pauses to catch his breath for a few seconds, before pulling his body up to get better vision of you. He cups your cheek and kisses you softly once again, pulling himself apart from you quicker than expected.

"You're so beautiful," he brushes his thumb over your lips. "I could look at you for all eternity." your heart thumps heavily when hearing his words. It made no sense for you how someone who looked like him, could tell you that you're beautiful. It seemed so far away from your reality, but still, you were thankful. At a loss for words, and only giving a shy smile in return, San mirrors it as he ascends and then throws himself in the empty space next to you. The only thing that is heard the next few minutes is both of your breaths as your chests heave. You nuzzle up into San's side, he embraces you with his arm as you grab him by the waist, laying your head on his chest. He kisses you on the crown of your head as he starts humming a melody that you don't think you've heard yet. Nonetheless, sleep gets a hold of your tired body and mind quickly, and you don't know if it's the alcohol that creates an illusion, or if it's just San's presence, but throughout your dreams you feel as if you are guarded by an angel.

Easily the best sleep you've had in a while. You are reminded of how easy it is to fall asleep on someone else's shoulder, just as you wake up.

*****

Before you met him you always thought you were better at spending time alone than you were at spending time with others. Now your thoughts had changed about the matter. It was like you were made only for being in Hongjoong's company, and when you were, you felt at peace. Like nothing could affect you ever again. The moments after sex were the ones you loved most, it almost felt like after your bodies were joint, your souls were getting combined as well, while laying on one another. He had his warm hand draped against your waist, playfully tracing circles on your soft skin, humming whatever song came to his mind. Your hand was on his bare chest and your head in the crook of his armpit. If you would be stuck in a time loop made only of this moment, you would never get sick of it.

The heat his body was emanating seemed to strangely warm you up from inside out, and the smell that was around the two of you was making your mind dizzy and your lungs crave for more. Feeling his chest rise as he inhaled and exhaled made you realize that your breaths were in sync, and hearing his heartbeat, you were sure they were too, in sync with yours. For you, loving Hongjoong was such a natural thing to do, like you two were extensions of each other and worked at full capacity only when together. His fingers slowly took a hold of your hand which he brought to his lips, he kissed it and then squeezed it tightly. You looked up into his eyes. His beautiful eyes sprinkled with love and adoration as he watched you.

"I think that every day I spend with you, I find a new meaning to love." he brushes your cheek gently and you stay silent, your mind in a stage of awe at how greatly he sums up the things you feel, without even talking to each other. You smile as you kiss him again and again and again.

"Then let's find a new meaning to love together for the rest of our lives," still standing close to his face, you see him smile and you do as well. You knew that even in the darkest of days, his smile would always lighten up your whole world. He pecks your lips again and suddenly tries to get up from the bed, the coldness you feel not only in your body, but your heart as well, wraps around your mind and you quickly grab his hand. He stops and kneels on the bed, looking at your uncovered body still on display for the flame that takes ahold in his enchanting eyes.

"We'll be late..." he says as he gets closer to you. That wouldn't be a problem, you think. The author should be allowed to be late to their own book release, right?

"Ten more minutes," you plead as you pull him towards you. He smirks and let's you take control of both his mind and body, as he lays on top of you, filling you up with the heat emanating from his body once again. After all, ten minutes wasn't that much, right?

*****

There it was. The selfishness that has made you lose him. The selfishness that brought you here with San. Everything was your fault. You lost so much of yourself the day you lost Hongjoong, but you were sure your last bit of humanity was completely lost the day you let Choi San believe that you could love him the same way he did. How could you be so reckless? You couldn't even blame the alcohol anymore, only your fucking stupidity. You used the only friend left that you cared about, as a rebound. And he doesn't even know. You looked up at the man who was holding you tight against his chest, as if not to lose you. He was still asleep. His natural unflawed beauty made your heart exclaim in agony as you traced his features with your gaze. As thoughts were overwhelming your mind, you placed your head in its initial position. Your eyes were starting to sting when tears started to form up.

You were the worst there was, weren't you? You killed your boyfriend and you deceived your friend into being your distraction, from all the pain and guilt, in more than one way. You didn't recognize yourself anymore, not after so much time of ignoring all your thoughts and suppressing all your feelings thinking it would get better. It didn't get better, the opposite actually, seeing where you stand right now. It was all because of you, and your selfishness, and it could've all be avoided if you didn't wish for fucking ten more minutes.

You started quivering and sobbing.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" San confusedly asks. This should be a sight to see as soon as you open your eyes. The girl you were balls deep in the night before, crying in front of you the morning after. Comforting you came natural to him, like he has been doing it for all his life. And you realized he did do it, not for all his life, sure, but since it happened. He has done his best to comfort you in every way he could. And he always succeeded. And this is how you repaid him. How could you be such a fucking asshole?

"San you need to...you have to leave...I'm sorry." you say through sniffles as it gets harder and harder for you to control the tears pouring down your face. You cannot look him in the eyes but you do get a peek at his grave look, how he looks down, unsure of what to do.

"Did I do something?" he quietly asks with a certain thread of fear in his voice, as if he was terrified of what his question might cause. You wish you could tell him that at the same time he didn't do anything, he also did too much. His kindness and love were too overwhelming for you in the state you were in.t. No matter how much he tried, his love couldn't repair you. You were the only one who could do that, but for what felt like the longest time, you didn't want to do it. Maybe it was time to try now.

"God, no..." you barely manage to blurt out. Speaking seems like the most tiring thing to do right now. "I just have to be alone right now." trying to stop your tears briefly, you look him in the eyes as he retracts his hands off of you. And you can't help but feeling it again, even if you know that it's not the case. Abandoned. Once again, and like the first time, it was all because of you. He got up from the bed, quickly dressing himself in the heavy silence that was surrounding both of you. You slowly hugged your knees to your chest, slightly burying your head in the space that you created. Maybe it wasn't for the best to be left alone but you were afraid of what might happen if you weren't. You saw San walk to your front door, put on his shoes and look at you for a last time. You looked up at him with teary eyes.

"Y/N, I..." love you. He didn't need to enunciate it, you could already see it on his face, how much it hurt him to leave you in this mess, all alone. Whatever you felt for him was so hard to decipher in the amalgam of things that were dwelling inside of you. And it was even harder to accept that you did have certain feelings for him, stronger that you would've liked. He sighed and slowly shook his head, looking down. You saw him leave and then you didn't see much anymore. As bitter tears that flooded your eyes slowly slid into your mouth. Painful screams were tumbling out of your chest giving you no chance to control them. As you get up off the bed you start grabbing whatever comes first and throwing it around. Cradled papers, books off of shelves, tiny decorations on your desk. You reach a framed photo of you and Hongjoong and stop for a second to look at it. Back at the beginning of your relationship when you went to a museum. It started snowing so much that his black coat turned white. You still remembered the cold weather of that period but the warmth of his smile was burning still, even through the damn picture. A few of your tears stained the glass of the photo and after you whimpered in the discomfort you felt around your heart, like someone was squeezing it in their fist, you threw it on the wall across from you. Did you really have to destroy everything nice in your life? As soon as it shattered to pieces you rushed towards it, as if you were not expecting the completely obvious to happen.

"No, no, no..." you whisper to yourself in disbelief. You slowly pick the broken glass in your shaking hands as your crying only gets louder, rivers of tears flowing down your face when your eyes can't seem to look anywhere else but at the old photo.

"I miss you so fucking much..." you whimper in pain, like a dog being beaten.

It's pure torture, you realize, what you're doing to yourself. It takes a lot for your now bloody palms to make contact with your face and wipe your tears, only leaving more of a mess behind. The flesh, now torn from picking up the thin pieces of broken glass, stings when your salty tears slide over the bloody trails and as you rise up with wobbly legs to throw it in the trash, you find yourself looking out the same window you stood with your lover on his last day beside you. Your tears suddenly came to a halt as you looked at the city lights near and far away; your breathing steadied and you remembered.

I want a balcony.

How were you supposed to move on, when you haven't even moved out?

You never felt so nervous for anything in your life before. The microphone was waiting for you on the warmly illuminated stage. You took shy steps towards it as the people started to applaud loudly, you were sure you heard someone whistle from the crowd. As you got in front of the microphone stand you placed one hand on it, dragging it closer. You were not sure how to do this. It should've been your second time, but due to the incidents back then, it was the first time in your life you had to speak at your own book release. Or even attend it. You inhaled deeply and looked through the crowd once more. Your eyes met Seonghwa's as he slightly raised the glass of champagne towards you. The pity he laid upon you with the help of his gaze a while back had turned into pride. You couldn't help but remember the surprise on his face when you went not to his office, but his house, at two in the morning, when you finally finished writing.

You spent the night together, he began reading and you fell in and out of sleep on his couch. When you woke up, he made breakfast for you and he told you how great it was, with the little eternal side notes from his side. He was proud.

"I have no idea what I should say," you offer a strong beginning, everyone starting to chuckle at your awkward comment. "I've been through hell and back writing this book. Two years and a half ago I lost the love of my life in a car accident, and for a long time I thought I lost everything." the room became suddenly tense as you spoke the words.

"But this should be a reminder that some doors aren't closed. We just think that they are." you finish off raising your glass and looking at a familiar pair of eyes. Everyone cheers as you get off the stage, and after receiving compliments from your boss, your team and other people as well, you follow the suited silhouette that you've been secretly chasing with your stare all night, outside.

"Hey," you greet as you find San on a bench right next to the venue. His eyes meet yours and for a brief second it's like all the nerves you had on stage came back, but they were doubled this time. It was hard going through everything without San. He tried to contact you, of course, but you weren't giving him much and the only times you saw him were when you ran into each other at work. When you looked at yourself in the mirror you couldn't recognize yourself anymore, but he? He was just the same. Dressed for the occasion, his black hair swiped back neatly and his face...as gorgeous as ever, and the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.

"Hey," he greets back as he drags his body on one side of the bench, signaling for you to join him. You sit beside him and look forward, feeling his eyes on your figure. "how have you been?" he asks, his voice glazed in worry. You made him suffer for the last time, you tell yourself. The whole ghosting thing and all the times you avoided him, those summed up the last time you were going to ever hurt him. For now you were working towards slowly healing the wound that has scarred you, which gave you more clarity about a lot of things.

"Better." you answer, looking in his direction. "I finally got it out!" you add smiling, a bittersweet smile that you held inside for a long time, it was for him only.

"I told you." San mimics your smile and looks into the distance.

"You did," moments of silence accompany as you think of the best way to embody your thoughts into words. "I never got to apologize." you start and his head shoots right at you. "I'm sorry. For using you to try and fuck my pain away." finally saying it aloud to him and getting it off your chest make your lungs finally not burn up when you try to inhale.

"I should apologize too," he begins and it's your turn to look at him with confusion.

"A part of me was aware that you were trying to do that and yet I wasn't able to stop myself." he adds. And it's like some part of you already knew, and already forgave him for it and that was because you knew you had way more blame than him, but you learned to come to terms with it, like you did with many things in your life. Learning to forgive yourself wasn't an easy process, but with the help of a good therapist, you slowly learned how to do it. You were at peace with a few of the things that kept you awake during the night. Slowly getting better.

"I'm sorry." he says and you're sure that more honest words had never left his mouth.

You take his hand into yours and place it on your lap. For the first time since you know him, his hands are cold. You use your other palm as a blanket and cover his hand from the cold winter breeze outside. He nurtured for you enough, it was finally time that you were ready to return the favor.

"I read the book," he says, looking at your hands holding each other.

"Lots of them are inspired from your stories," you refer to the poems, thinking of how many more were written with your mind only thinking about him that didn't even make the cut into the book. "and lots of them are inspired from you." You look into his eyes as he squeezes your hand gently. Maybe you didn't yet know what you wanted. But you knew what you didn't want. And you didn't want to lose San. Not again. Not ever.

"Can I take you out on Thursday?" he asks as his gaze stills down on your warm face. If he asked you this on a bad day, you still weren't sure what your answer would be, but today was a good day. You never got to say goodbye to Hongjoong, but that didn't mean you couldn't say hello to anyone ever again. "You know, in case you need more inspiration for your next masterpiece." he adds and you laugh shortly while nodding quickly. You spend a few more minutes in silence, enduring the cold air, silently revealing to each other the most vulnerable parts of you. You look down at your joined hands and then into his eyes. You smile, partly because you do feel happy, and the rest because you know he'll do the same, and hell, you fucking missed that dimpled smile of his.

The man doesn't say anything when you lean your head on his shoulder, but you are almost sure you can hear his heart beating faster. "I missed you so much." you finally say, letting your feelings pour out in front of San for the first time, leaving you vulnerable in a way no one has seen you since then.

And for the first time, while looking at the bright clear sky above you, you think for yourself that...He would be so proud.

#ateez smut #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #ateez san #choi san #san smut #choi san fanfic #choi san smut #hongjoong fanfic #kpopsmut #xenizaation

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allwaswell16 · 6 days

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A fic rec of One Direction fics in which a character had experienced abuse of some form in the past as requested in this ask. Please don't forget to leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other fic recs here.

- Louis/Harry -

🧱 Run Like the Devil by benzos

(E, 143k, Supernatural au) Louis hunts demons; Harry's the strangest demon he's ever met, and he keeps fucking meeting him.

🧱 Saving Symphony Hall by @helloamhere

(E, 124k, omegaverse) “That’s the attitude,” said Louis, “I’ll tell you tomorrow. Tonight, I need to do some research. Zayn, give me your number. I’m gonna save our symphony.”

🧱 Hang there like fruit, my soul/Till the tree die by louloubaby92 / @louloubabys1992

(M, 111k, omegaverse) Louis knows he's a defective omega. He knows its also not his fault but it is what it is. He takes the world head on even when the world is unkind to him.

🧱 Give Me Truths by iwillpaintasongforlou / @canonlarry

(E, 110k, punk Louis) the one in which Louis falls in love with a fragile boy and tells him every beautiful truth in the world, as long as it makes him happy.

🧱 The Naked Truth by @larrysmomfics

(E, 80k, Naked Attraction au) The producers of Naked Attraction decide to do a 'Second Chances' edition of the show where past contestants who didn't find love on the show the first time can re-apply in hopes that the second time's a charm.

🧱 Here In The Afterglow by fondleeds

(NR, 88k, historical) 1970’s AU. In a tiny town in Idaho, Louis’ life is changed forever by the arrival of a curious stranger.

🧱 Shout It From The Rooftops by therogueskimo / @bravetemptation

(M, 70k, PTSD) Plagued by memories of the worst day of his life, Louis Tomlinson feels like he’s constantly living in darkness. Harry Styles might just be the person to bring him back to the light.

🧱 These High Walls by LarryAlways28

(E, 68k, omegaverse) Born to one of Seattle's wealthiest families, Harry was raised exactly as a Styles heir should be: sharp as a tack, witty, charming, and powerful. He was the ideal son - until he presented as an Omega.

🧱 you're ripped at every edge, but you're a masterpiece by Valentia

(E, 50k, uni) The one where Harry is soft and pretty but doesn't see it and Louis just wants to love him the way he deserves.

🧱 elephant juice by @stylinsoncity

(M, 32k, uni) harry doesn't understand boundaries. louis doesn't mind at all.

🧱 With These Arms Folded by @taggiecb

(NR, 21k, famous/not famous) Harry Styles is living a peaceful existence in California as a very successful songwriter. That is until he receives a curious email one sunny summer morning, and his life almost immediately gets turned upside down buy a force that's bigger than any storm he's seen outside his window.

🧱 why take your life when you give it so willingly by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed

(M, 19k, pirates) When Louis Tomlinson, Captain of The Rogue, ends up adrift at sea after Captain Cowell attacks his ship, he is surprised to find his enemy, Captain Styles, coming to his rescue.

🧱 vatican cameos by nightwideopen / @themarshalstale

(T, 14k, asexuality) sometimes louis gets sad and sometimes harry lets louis write on him

🧱 Just a touch of your love by @thegirlontheblackhoodie

(E, 12k, omegaverse) Harry is a touch starved omega trying to get through it on his own. Louis happens to be the only alpha around to realize it and offers to help.

🧱 You've Got A New Life (Am I Bothering you?) by LilyBlue28

(NR, 5k, omegaverse) the one where Louis is an omega who suffers from PTSD and is triggered one day. He doesn't know how to ask for help from his doting alpha, doesn't think he deserves it, and tries to handle it on his own.

🧱 I Don't Wanna Hurt Anymore by offwiththeirheads / @hazzabooween

(M, 5k, kidfic) Harry walks a thin line between breaking his best friend’s heart and fighting a losing battle.

- Rare Pairs -

🧱 Sugar, We're Going Down by sunsetmog / @magicalrocketships

(E, 131k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw) At 37, Nick has everything he could possibly want in life: huge success in business, a Bachelor of the Year award hanging in his toilet, piles of money, and a rather odd little habit of visiting a cafe with terrible service on his way into the office every morning.

🧱 It's You by happily_missy

(E, 56k, Zayn/Liam) Liam is a PA for a famous fashion designer and Zayn is their gorgeous new model.

#ficrec #1dficvillage #pastabuse #trackinghappily #trackinghome #tracksintheam #hlcreators #hljournal #1dsource #larry fanfiction #ziam fanfiction #tomlinshaw fanfction #weeklyficrec

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blingblong55 · 5 months

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All too well- Simon 'Ghost' Riley

A/N: this is some of me in writing and why I believe romance is not for me, not now at least...so enjoy :) --- F!Reader, angst? fluff?, toxic!Ghost, age gap, older boyfriend!Ghost ----

A/N: I know Ghost wouldn't be this kind of man if he was real but I have to break my heart with him...sorry

He is older than you, years ahead of you and has more experience than you do so when you broke up with him, it was hard to let go. You at the time were 20, he was 37. People always judged and of course, you thought it was because they were jealous not because they were seriously concerned. Still, in Uni, he wanted you to make him your priority. You always said no and for some reason, he would get mad about this. At first, he was the nice guy, he was perfect and it all made you more sure that maybe there was a future with him. Your free time was spent with him because somehow, he convinced you to give all your time to him.

This all gets noticed by all your friends. Your phone, passwords and even social accounts get monitored and checked by him. It wasn't all romance anymore. It became a reward system, you gave him your free time? Maybe he would be romantic. You let him control your friendships? Maybe he would tell you more about his weekends. Soon enough, you noticed it. Simon became the villain and for good reasons. He played the perfect part all too well, but only to those questioning stares and in those moments, it was perfection.

When the stares looked away, he was the same Simon that had your heart trapped at the top of the castle. His anger and manipulative tactics become the dragon. Everywhere you went, his shadows lurked for you. When he said he wanted you to think of him every second of your waking life, he meant it. Will he approve of me talking to them? Your mind always asked that, even if the guy was just a friend, a literal friend and nothing more, Simon crept into your head.

His childhood memories, being told to you, maybe it was for sympathy or maybe it was to make you think he wasn't the cold-hearted man who made you cry on Valentine's Day. "Simon! Do you not understand how rude and mean that was?!" Your heart was stabbed by his actions on that day. "R/N, you are being dramatic!" A gift that you went out of your way for in the hands of a woman who is supposed to be a best friend of yours. Two people were lied to this day, you and the naive of your best friend. "I did it, it was for you! when I made it, my mind went to you! Gosh Simon, why can't you see how rude this was!" He walks to you, hands gripping your body. "You are acting like a goddamn child R/N!" He shook you, thinking it would make you understand better. "I'm not the one dating someone young now am I?" The anger that left your mouth, oh that sent him over the edge. "Don't you fucking dare!" he said through gritted teeth. "I'm still growing, you are a grown man who doesn't even think for a moment that your fucking girlfriend did something for you! I did that and that fucking girl thinks you did it for her!" You push him and he gives you that stare. The same one your father gave you when he was made and was ready to yell and punch walls.

Three weeks later, that is how long it took you to do it. "I'm being serious Simon, it's over." Your voice is cold and he scoffs with a low chuckle. "Aren't you too young to make the decisions here, doll?" That voice, how he gave you a condescending tone and how he approached you. "I think I'm more mature than you to know this is wrong. Me loving you is wrong and it's dead...this is over." He shakes his head and walks away furious. For weeks he called you, maybe to haunt you but every time you answered, it was the same old thing. Random numbers during class, lunch or at night called you. When they stopped, you sighed and for the first time, you smiled, a genuine one.

The day you broke up with him was still fresh on your mind. He was a strong man, that is no doubt, so if he wanted to, he could harm you so easily. Your friend theorised that he could make you disappear, all to keep the pretty little young lover near. It is true what they say, there will always be a reason men like him stay alone for long. There's a reason why they date younger ones and not women who know best. Sometime later, that best friend approaches you, unaware of what happened between you and Simon.

"He told me what happened." But he told her lies, told her that it was you that was the problem. After she gave you his truth, you gave her the real truth. "So...the...gift, it wasn't really from him-" "No, and I'm not asking for anything back, not at all. Just, be careful, he...he isn't the man he says he is and please...please for your own sake stay away." That same day, you found out he asked me to meet up. I thought he meant as friends, since well I thought I was his friend." She wouldn't do it, you thought. "And at first I was okay with it until he kept asking over and over. I felt weird about it because it didn't seem like it would be a friendly meet-up, I said no, out of respect for you." You hugged her. "I know he was asking to hook up but I can't do that, not to my best friend." she hugged back and you two soon talked more.

Simon, oh that man was a mess. He soon engaged when your young heart was still grieving him behind doors. His fiance tagged people you knew, those people, some, told you he moved on. This was a game plan. Tell the young lover what was lost and maybe, they'll come running to you. It hurt but it didn't work. You noticed how happy he was. How much more he changed and in your head, you asked why he couldn't change for you. You look at the lovers that pass by, how the guy treats his girl and for a moment, you wish that was you.

Memories come every night.

Winter. No one knew how your heart felt for him but he did. His body is close to yours as he wraps you with the blanket, he kisses your shoulder and smiles. The art of making love was something he was an expert in.

Summer. He takes you on midnight rides. Holds your hand and sings along with you. Your hair is in the wind as his lips meet your hand. Simon, the man who taught you so much now making you cry on the way home.

Autumn. Your dad heard your cries as Simon explained to you why he wouldn't go to you. A woman moans on his side of the phone, "it was the movie," he explains so easily.

Spring. Filled with arguments, tears and sex. Manipulation works its way to your body. "Fuck you!" You cry as he yet again reminds you that you are young and stupid. He degrades you this way. Reminds you that he has the upper hand for being older than you.

You later learn he had another girl while being with you. His free time is shared between you and some other girl. Your bed is drenched in tears of regret and sorrow. The headphones blasted the words your heart cried for.

For moments, he was liberty, fun, happiness and love. Now, when you look back at it, Simon Riley was the man who lived as the dragon of the castle, the one you had to fight off to regain your heart. You hated him for what he was. Your heart, body and soul kept him like a sword oath. The same one that had you overthinking. Did you ask for too much? Were you even a good girlfriend?

Get out of my head, you cry. "If we had been closer in age, maybe you would understand what I wanted." He texts you some random day. That night, your friends held you as you cried in some bar. The last time you saw him was on your twenty-first birthday. Your mum asked for something from the store, so as you walk down the busy streets, your eyes catch a glimpse of him. His gaze catches yours. It was then you learned that this would be the last time you cry over him. He is dead to you, something to be proud of.

It was then he learned you were the only good thing he had. His ex-fiance out of his life, just like you but unlike her, you were good.

"Simon!" Your laughter fills the lounge room. "I told you, doll, this is what you get for that tickle," Simon's deep laugh belonged to yours. It's a melody. The fireplace, the laughs, the kiss after and how you both panted from an intense tickle fight. It was rare but beautiful. You cup his face, "I love you," you whisper and he grins. "oooh I knew it!" he picks you up again and you laugh.

This is the end of the warm time

As you walk past the park, you think of the old times. It is bittersweet. The way things ended, the way he loved you, kissed you, it was good until it wasn't. Simon Riley is a man on many faces, one you know all too well.

Love, what a miserable thing to be a part of when you had him.

A/N: so....there's that...

Tags: @liyanahelena @dilfgestivo @bobthe-turmpetman29 @kylie-7 @sharkyyyyyyyyyyyy @idkbbyx3 @goldenmclaren @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @rvivienner @krinoid24 @istillcantfindausername @iruzias @frazie99 @spicypicklesoh @viomast @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @undercover-smutlover @juneonhoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13

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ckret2 · 10 months

Text

Masterpost for Bill "Goldilocks" Cipher fic

If you're new here, this is one of those fics where Bill comes back in a human body and is imprisoned in the Mystery Shack until the Pines & friends can figure out how to kill him (which they won't, because this is also a "Bill's redeemed through the power of improbable friendship" fic). The "Goldilocks" is because the Pines need a code name other than "Bill Cipher" to call their prisoner, and Bill liked Mabel's suggestion best.

For all my fic, art, doodles, upcoming scene excerpts, and posts about characterization & plot plans, see my #bill goldilocks cipher tag.

New chapter every Friday!

For just the fic itself, here are all the current chapters:

⛓️ 1. Bill returns, in a bedsheet toga.

⛓️ 2. Bill tries to murder the Stans and Soos (with time travel).

⛓️ 3. Dipper and Mabel save the day (with time travel).

⛓️ 4. A tense evening as the Pines prepare to get rid of Bill.

⛓️ 5. Plot twist: the Pines physically can't get rid of Bill.

⛓️ 6. The gang goes to a diner at 3 a.m. for hostage negotiations.

⛓️ 7. "How'd Bill get here" flashback; plus, entering his new prison.

💇‍♀️ 8. Bill gives himself a haircut and depression.

💇‍♀️ 9. Bill & Ford grudgingly have a sincere conversation; regret it.

💇‍♀️ 10. The kids decide Bill won't ruin their summer. Also: Pacifica!

🧚 11. Mabel gives Bill the most beautiful makeover ever. (It's not.)

🧚 12. Pacifica advertises Harry's Hairy Fairy Formula. Bill wants it.

🧚 13. Pacifica refuses to share; the twins discover its side effects.

🧚 14. Mabel wins Bill's eternal friendship with arts & crafts.

💭 15. Bill, Ford, and Dipper have nightmares that are Bill's fault.

💎 16. Ford has a fun day with Mabel but everything goes wrong.

💎 17. The day goes right again thanks to healthy communication.

🐿️ 18. Mabel's Guide To Local Animals, co-starring Bill Cipher.

🧊 19. Wendy snoops into the weird things happening in the shack.

🧊 20. Wendy meets the weird thing (it's Bill).

🎂 21. Stan & Ford's birthday party! Bill gives evil gifts.

💭 22. Bill "helps" Dipper's nightmares; no one knows his motive.

👁️ 23. Bill's ex is back in town and nobody's happy about it.

👁️ 24. Everyone's even less happy to learn Bill has a sex life.

🧿 25. Mabel and Bill make friendship bracelets! :)

🧿 26. The Pines take Bill to the mall. He wears terrible things.

🧿 27. Bill breaks Mabel's heart (and panics to fix it).

🏳️‍🌈 28. Bill talks his way into going with Wendy to Rainbow Club.

🎃 29. Bill contacts the Henchmaniacs on Summerween morning.

🎃 30. Costume making. Mabel pries into Bill's past, with crayons.

🎃 31. The Trickster's pals trick-or-treat; and Bill terrifies Dipper.

🪮 32. Dipper & Mabel make a poppet to control Bill.

🦷 33. Stan takes Bill to the dentist. In handcuffs.

🦷 34. Dentist & tooth fairy attack. Stan & Bill are still handcuffed.

🦷 35. Bill & Stan reach a painful understanding and stop the fairy.

🛁 36. Anime night; and Mabel makes Bill do community service.

🛁 37. Bill plots escape and runs into Wendy. Dipper panics.

🛁 38. Bill has the worst and stupidest day of his afterlife.

🌅 39. A cultist finds Bill; Bill tries to re-recruit Ford.

🚙 40. Gideon broadcasts car commercials; invokes Bill's wrath.

🚙 41. Bill apologizes for bullying Gideon. lol no he blackmails him.

🌕 42. Bill tells Dipper secrets of the universe; predicts an eclipse.

🌖 43. Gravity is disappearing; Ford and Fiddleford investigate.

🌗 44. Ford & Dipper drag Bill hiking; Bill faces his death.

🌘 45. Ford demands answers Bill can't give as totality looms.

🌑 46. Totality. Bill decides whether Ford lives or dies.

🌒 47. Bill feels rotten but finally explains the eclipse.

🌓 48. Bill has a complete mental breakdown.

🌔 49. The gang limps home. (Plus: a second dimensional eclipse.)

COMING SOON:

50. Bill finally processes that mental breakdown.

This fic will start crossposting to Ao3 after The Book Of Bill comes out, because I have my fingers crossed that I'll be able to make it TBOB-compatible with light edits but won't know til then. Until then, read it here!

This post was last updated April 27, 2024! If you're seeing this post as a reblog and it's been a while since then, check back on the original post to see if more's been added!

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #gravity falls #gravity falls fic #about my writing #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher #reference

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ohtobeleah · 1 year

Note

PL2

6 - In bed at 2am, blissfully drowsy

37 - “You're stuck with me, like it or not.”

With my favorite WSO good ol' Baby On Board (Sorry Fanboy)

I see you, and I raise you Bob Floyd with the Admirals Daughter.

Warnings: None :)

Bob had been freaking the fuck out ever since he’d gotten the call from the county hospital that you’d been admitted. The worst part about knowing you were in the hospital was the fact he couldn’t just up and leave in the middle of a tactical response seminar. But the second he was finished? The second Mav had stopped talking and dismissed the group of Elite Naval Aviators that sat before him, Bob was racing off down the hall, collecting his keys from his locker and making a rush to the county hospital across town.

Because of course they couldn’t take you to the Base Hospital could they? No—that would’ve been too easy.

“You have a patient here, Y/n Y/l/n—what room is she in?” There were two things about Robert Floyd that still seemed to shock people when they figured him out.

“Miss Y/l/n, is resting and—“ Bob didn’t let the nurse sitting at the nurses station finish her sentence.

“I asked what room she’s in.” The first thing that seemed to shock people about Bob was that he lost all sense of politeness and rationality when the people he cared about were in pain or in any kind of danger. Phoenix found that out one night at the Hard Deck when some guy touched her ass. Robert Floyd, who at that point had shown no sign of aggression or intention to ever engage in any sort of physical contact, stood up after he finished his last sip of lemon lime bitters and threw the hardest right hook he could.

“As I was saying, she can’t have any visitors.” Bob didn’t like that response at all as the nurse went back to her paperwork.

“Listen to me—“ The second thing about Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd that shocked people when they finally connected the dots, was that he was dating none other than Admiral Beau Simpson's daughter and had been doing so for a number of years before he even crossed paths with Cyclone at Miramar. “I’m gonna ask you one more time—“ But Bob already knew Cyclone from the many dinners he’d been over for during holiday seasons and family get-togethers. It didn’t however change the hostility the pair shared. “What room is my girlfriend in—“ Because there was something Bob hadn’t done yet that your father thought he should have done by now if he was serious about his baby girl.

Bob hadn’t Proposed.

“Floyd.” Cyclone called out from down the hall as Bob turned in the direction your fathers voice had come from. “She’s in room 1024.” Bob waisted not a second of time as he made his way towards your dad.

“You’ve seen her?”

“It’s locked.”

“I don’t care—“ You were Bob's entire world, his best friend, the love of his life, his better half. “I need to see her.” As Bob tried to push past your dad, Cyclone put his hand on Bob's shoulder, catching his attention and stopping him from taking another step forward.

“What are you gonna do kid? Are you gonna break the door down?”

“Yeah—“ Bob nodded as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “If I have to.” All Beau did in response was let his hopefully one day soon son in law go, watching as he made a direct line towards your hospital room.

“I spoke to the doctors, they said she fainted at school but she’s fine Robert.”

“If she fainted then she isn’t alright now is she!?” Bob spat back at your dad as he continued down the hall. Cyclone stayed hot on his tail.

“They said she’s run down and a little dehydrated but she’s okay.”

“Alright so then why won’t they let anyone see her?” Bob asked as he stopped in his stride and turned back to Cyclone who looked just as worried as Bob.

“Because she’s sleeping, she needs it.” Bob knew better than anyone how hard you’d been overworking yourself. Between working full time and studying you were spread pretty thin. Bob thought you needed to take a step back, he saw the way you had been neglecting your own health in order to fit study into your already jam packed schedule. “Bob, she’s fine.” Bob let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding in ever since he got the call you’d been taken to hospital. “She’s gonna be okay kid.”

“What are you even doing here?” Bob questioned your dad as he ran his hands through his hair.

“I’m one of her emergency contacts, they called me.”

“Yeah I know that but—“ Bob didn’t mean to sound rude, he was just stating the obvious. Beau Simpson had never been an overly passionate father figure. And it seemed as though Beau caught onto what his somewhat son in law had been insinuating.

“You mean what’s a heartless shithead like me doing in a place like this?”

“Yeah something like that.” Bob replied, was he proud of himself? No not really, but he knew his point had been made.

“I would’ve come for you too if you ever worked hard enough to pass out.” Cyclone tapped Bob's shoulder as he smiled softly. “But you never have.” Bob chuckled softly too as both men saw a nurse stepping out of your room, gesturing that they could enter if they wanted to. “You go, I’m sure she wants to see you before anyone else.”

“Thanks Sir.” Bob replied as he nodded and pressed his lips together. “Thank you for caring about her enough to come.” Bob left it at that, not quite hearing what Admiral Sysmpison said under his breath.

“You too son, you too.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

The next day after Bob had admittedly refused to leave your side overnight, you were both getting home to an empty house that had been left unattended overnight.

However, as you slept soundly while Bob kept a watchful eye on you, he asked Fanboy and Phoenix if it wasn’t too much trouble, if they could swing by and just spruce the place up a little bit.

They did without hesitation because they knew if there were still things that needed to be done around the home you and Bob shared, you truly wouldn’t be able to rest. And all you needed right now was rest. And plenty of it.

“Alright so here’s what you’re gonna do.” Bob cooed as he cupped your face and pulled you close the moment you both stepped through the threshold of your humble abode. “You’re gonna go upstairs and take a long, hot shower and relax while I cook us some food.”

“I can help you cook.” You tried to argue but the look you got from your boyfriend in return was enough to tell you that he was serious about you doing nothing. “Alright alright, I’ll be in the shower.”

“When you're done it’s straight into pyjamas, no ifs or buts.” Bob shouted after you as you walked up the stairs. You were so thankful to have Bob, someone who cared enough about you to want to take care of you and tell you to slow the hell down. You thought you were fine until you weren’t fine. Which was why Bob felt it was important and absolutely critical that he stayed home with you for a day or two to make sure you weren’t going to start back up into the almost psychotic routine you’d been putting yourself through to fit everything in.

“Okay so I know you aren’t sick but I also know you can’t be feeling too crash hot so—“ Bob cooed as he opened the bedroom door a little wider with his foot to see you getting ready to hop into bed. “I thought chicken soup and toast might be good.” Bob explained as he padded across the bedroom, carrying two bowls of delicious soup on a tray.

“Is that your mum's chicken soup?” You asked curiously as the smell captivated your senses as Bob moved closer. “Oh god it smells so good.” Bob was as careful as he could be as he sat down beside you in bed, holding the tray he’d brought in with two bowls of soup and buttered toast to go with.

“I didn’t have time to make it from scratch so I just got some out of the deep freeze.” You really did love Robert Floyd, and for what it was worth you’d say yes in a heartbeat if he ever did ask you to marry him. But it was something you weren’t too pressed about—you were just happy to enjoy the moments you had with him. “But here, we’re gonna sit down and we’re gonna eat this soup and we’re gonna watch Shameless because I know that you’ve been needing to find the time to finish it and now a time has presented itself.” Bob babbled as he passed you your bowl and took his own as he expertly manoeuvred his legs under the covers. “Don’t argue either.”

“I feel fine, I promise—“ You tried to argue anyway as you blew on your spoon full of soup, sending Bob the biggest puppy dog eyes you could conjure up. “But this is perfect, thank you for this.”

“Anytime.” Bob leaned in to kiss your cheek before the pair of you settled in for an afternoon in bed binge watching Shameless and trying to not think about the copious amounts of studying you had and the fact you had to miss work. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~**

2am rolled around a hell of a lot quicker than it normally did. Maybe it was because you and Bob had spent the majority of the afternoon in bed together or perhaps it was the fact that after your bowl of Bob's mum's chicken noodle soup, you felt a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Blissfully drowsy in a love filled embrace you snuggled into the warmth of Bob's exposed chest as he wrapped you into him, half dazed and sleeping.

“I could stay like this forever.” You mumbled as you tried to get yourself back to sleep. Bob had always been a little sleeper. So much so it felt like sometimes he was always alert to what was going on around him, especially you. “But I know reality is chewing on our heels.”

“You're stuck with me, like it or not.” Bob cooed as he pulled you in closer. “I took the next few days off to just be with you.” He explained, knowing that in the next day or two he was going to finally ask you to marry him. “So, reality is gonna have to wait, miss overachiever, because you're stuck with me.”

Smiling into Bob's armpit, you beamed at the thought. Damn, he really cared huh.

“I don’t think that sounds all that awful at all baby.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Leah’s 4k celebration 🎊

#Leah’s 4k celebration 🎊#bob floyd #robert bob floyd x reader #bob top gun #bob floyd fluff #bob floyd imagine #robert bob floyd #robert floyd #top gun maverick #top gun bob #maverick top gun

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pileofwords · 1 year

Text

it's a date

pairing: jeonghan x reader length: 1.3k genre: fluff (i promise!!) warnings: mild language, vague mentions of hospitals + jeonghan's elbow injury summary: A text from your best friend telling you that your boyfriend was in the hospital was definitely not what you wanted to see when you woke up at three in the morning.

shubot (02:34): hey shubot (02:34): jeonghan's in the hospital shubot (02:35): he told me not to tell you but since when have i listened to him about that lol

yn (03:12): shua what the fuck do you mean jeonghan's in the hospital yn (03:13): what's wrong yn (03:13): is he sick yn (03:13): wait, did he get hurt at filming yn (03:14): how serious is this, how freaked out do i need to be bc i am very freaked out yn (03:25): answer!! your!! phone!!!!!!!!!!!!! yn (03:28): shua istg i know you're awake rn

shubot (03:36): i was showering!!

yn (03:37): i WaS sHoWeRiNg BOI DO NOT JUST TEXT ME THAT MY BOYFRIEND IS IN THE HOSPITAL AND THEN GO SHOWER

shubot (03:38): i thought you'd be asleep :/

yn (03:38): answer my questions joshua hong!!!

shubot (03:39): i mean it's not not-serious but it's not life threatening shubot (03:40): it's his elbow, he went in earlier bc the pain got worse and ended up having to have surgery shubot (03:40): he’ll have to wear a cast or brace or something for a few months probably shubot (03:41): he's not dying or anything

yn (03:42): i was about to drive to the dorms rn and smack you i swear yn (03:42): literally holding my car keys

shubot (03:43): i'll give you his hospital room # if you don't slap me

yn (03:44): fine yn (03:44): gimmie

shubot (03:44): score

–

You were smart enough to not show up at the hospital at four in the morning, and you had to go into the office for at least a couple hours to wrap up some projects before taking the rest of the day off, but you were outside of Jeonghan’s hospital suite by noon.

You knocked once but didn’t bother waiting for a response before slipping into the room, only to immediately be met with a loud groan; you laughed, flopping unceremoniously in the chair next to Jeonghan’s bed.

“I told them all not to tell you until I was discharged, I didn’t want you to worry about it, who snitched?”

“Who do you think?”

“I’m gonna kill Joshua.”

“Babe, I’ve been friends with Shua since we were two, he was always gonna tell me. He can’t help it.”

Jeonghan pouted, reaching over with his good hand to grab yours. “But I didn’t want you to worry. It wasn’t a big deal.”

You wrinkled up your nose playfully, turning your hand over in his so you could wind your fingers together. “I would have worried a lot less if you’d told me instead of Shua ominously texting me at three in the morning that you were in the hospital. With absolutely zero context! No explanation! Imagine waking up in the middle of the night and getting that message.”

Jeonghan winced. "Sorry."

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "Hey, you're alive and I didn't have a heart attack, so we're all good."

"Our standards for being good are pretty low if that's the bar we've gotta hit," Jeonghan remarked dryly, but you could hear the smile in his voice.

You shrugged as he brought your connected hands to his face, pressing his lips against the back of your hand and holding there for a second. "As long as we're fine, I'm fine," you said, and you meant it. "You're my rock. I can get through anything with you."

"Doljjong is my rock," Jeonghan said immediately, and his laugh filled the room as you deadpanned, only to be joined by yours a moment later. His laughter was infectious; you could never stay mad at him for long.

"Do I at least get to be your second choice rock?"

He clicked his tongue. "I'd pick you over Doljjong any day."

"You'd pick me over your own son?" You gasped dramatically, hand over your heart as you feigned shock.

Jeonghan winked. "Just don't tell him that."

And you dissolved into giggles again, Jeonghan watching you with the fondest smile on his face, feeling very proud that he was the only one who could make you laugh like that.

Once you'd calmed down, you yawned, checking your phone for the time. "When are you getting discharged?"

Jeonghan pouted at his cast. "Not sure. My physical therapist is supposed to come by sometime between four and five, I think, to go over some stuff and then I can get discharged after that as long as everything looks okay. When do you have to go back to work?"

"I don't," you said cheerfully, quietly delighted at the way his eyes, sparkling hopefully, darted over to you. "Took the rest of the day off because I was worried about my poor hospitalized boyfriend. Thought I might take him out to dinner and everything for being sooooo brave.”

Jeonghan was smiling so hard at the thought of getting to spend the whole day with you that he couldn’t even be mad at your teasing. Your dates had been quick ones for the last few months, just coffee or a meal between breaks or short naps at your place – his busy schedule and yours had prevented any more than that and, though you texted and called all the time, he missed you.

So you spent the afternoon talking, Jeonghan telling you all the funny stories about his members that he hadn’t yet, you catching him up on the latest office gossip, you both making suggestions and lighthearted plans for the next time he had a break.

A little after four, when there was a momentary lull in your conversation, you stretched your arms over your head and moved to get up; Jeonghan grabbed the side of your shirt.

“Where’re you going?”

You rolled your eyes at the note of disappointment in his voice, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “Your physical therapist is coming, remember?” His lips slipped into a silent ‘O’ and you smiled fondly. “I’m just going to wait in the cafe downstairs until you’re done. I probably shouldn’t be here while they’re going through everything with you.”

“Why not? I want–”

“You don’t want me here because then I’ll know what you’re supposed to be doing and not doing and I’ll just end up nagging you even more every single time we talk.”

“Good point.”

You laughed, grabbing your bag. “Text me when you’re done, okay?”

“Yeah. Babe?”

You paused in the doorway, looking back at him with a questioning hum.

“Love you.”

A smile blossomed over your face. “Always. Love you back.”

“Always,” he repeated and he grinned, flopping back against his pillows as you disappeared out of the room.

–

hanniehae (16:37): i’m gonna kill you

shubot (16:38): no you’re not ♡ shubot (16:38): you know you wanted yn to come visit you ♡

hanniehae (16:39): yeah thanks or whatever

yn (16:40): you know you’re texting the group chat right?

hanniehae (16:41): yeah that was on purpose hanniehae (16:41): send him that pic of us hanniehae (16:42): make him feel all sad and lonely for being the single friend, that’s part of his punishment

shubot (16:44): but i’m not sad or lonely shubot (16:44): or the single friend 😉🤪

hanniehae (16:45): WHAT

yn (16:45): WHAT

hanniehae (16:46): SINCE WHEN

yn (16:46): AND WHO

hanniehae (16:47): WHEN DID YOU START KEEPING SECRETS FROM US

yn (16:48): gonna kick him out of the best friend chat fr wtf yn (16:53): … yn (16:58): JOSHUA JISOO HONG yn (16:58): STOP DROPPING BOMBS IN CHAT AND THEN DISAPPEARING yn (16:59): omfg

hanniehae (17:00): we still get to be the cute couple though, right 🥺

yn (17:01): ofc we are 💗 yn (17:02): now stop texting and pay attention to your physical therapist so we can go get dinner, i’m hungry

hanniehae (17:03): only if you beat up shua for me after 💗

yn (17:04): it’s a date 💗

#caratwritersclub #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #seventeen scenarios #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan imagines #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan #seventeen #95z for my first three fics on this blog! 🎉#also they all somehow ended up being around 1.2k #that was not on purpose lol i honestly don’t know how that happened #this is like half smau but without the fun picture formatting bc i’m too lazy to figure out how to do that l o l

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crookedkryptonitebeliever · 3 months

Text

Best and Worst of Both Worlds (part 37)

Tw: none 4 now , just a short chapter wirh Yves fluff

Part 38

"Yes dear, you may." Yves sat on the chair next to your bed, crossing his legs elegantly as he watches you open the pristine packaging.

You asked him for permission if you're allowed to eat the imported macarons he flew in all the way from France. You're nervous because the box itself looked extremely expensive, his gift looked too beautiful to eat.

You end up closing the box of delectable, colourful pastries. Some had gold leaf on them. They're definitely mouthwatering, especially after days of eating bland hospital food. You didn't touch any of Montgomery's takeaway.

You told him that you're going to save it for later. Yves didn't react to you, instead he pulled out another box with a black ribbon wrapped around it from his massive shopping bag that he no doubt retrieved from a luxury store. Yves kept the box of macarons from somewhere else, so that you had more space to work with. It was large, taking up the entire over-bed table.

You pulled on the neat ribbon before slowly taking the cover off.

Whatever it was, a sheet of black silk was wrapped around it with an envelope that has the brand logo resting atop. You opened it and pulled out a card with golden embossed letters. You had no idea what it says because you couldn't read it. So you set it aside and took out the main item.

You were baffled when you pulled out a large drawstring bag with a velvet interior. But that wasn't the final object, the thing inside it was. Yves second gift to you was a designer backpack, crafted to perfection and made up of only the highest quality materials. You can feel the lavishness through your fingertips rubbing against its fabric.

You opened it to see translucent packaging paper, protecting its form. This must have at least cost him a few grand, you're not accounting for the currency exchange rate. You turned your head to Yves, you looked uneasy. Do you really deserve this?

He simply tilted your head at your discomfort.

"It is time to retire your bag, (name)." He leaned forward, propping his head on his hand. "Unless this isn't to your liking?" You panicked at the sight of sadness in his green irises.

You said no, you love it. But you're scared to use it because it's priceless to you. It will hurt to even have a smidge of dirt on it!

"Then, this shall teach you to be mindful of your belongings." He smiled. "You should treat what you own with care and respect." Yves playfully tapped your nose with his pointer.

Your face heated up at the memory of him discovering the state of your old backpack, finding a dead lizard at the bottom and mold growing in your waterbottle.

"It's the least you could do for the items that uphold your day-to-day activities." Yves continued his lecture as he bent down again to take something else from his shopping bag.

You kept staring at the bag, cautiously packing it back into the drawstring and into the box. Treating it as if it will disintegrate if you handled it a bit too roughly.

"However." He gently guided your head to face him. Yves stroked his fingers under your chin. "I must remind you, they're merely objects. You shouldn't let them dictate your life. They're there to assist you."

He pushed a small box into your hands. It's a miniature version of whatever is on your table.

You untied its ribbon and opened it to reveal a small envelope and a smaller protective drawstring bag, which contained a velvet jewelry box.

You gasp upon opening it. A golden bracelet embellished with stunning pink diamonds. You took it out to inspect it and found that it doubles as a wonderful fidget toy! It has numerous moving parts and gears, providing that satisfaction of sliding and clicking.

You kept playing with it for a few minutes. Until Yves softly cleared his throat to get your attention.

He was smiling adoringly. "I'm happy that you're fond of my gifts, (name)."

You realized you haven't thanked him. Instead of verbally doing so, you decided to grow a pair and peck him on the lips.

You quickly retracted yourself and looked away, feeling shy from what you just did.

It took Yves a few seconds to register what you just did. His fingers ghosting over his mouth as his eyes were wide, staring at your bashful self.

The corners of his lips shakily curled upwards as he silently pushed your over-bed table away.

"Oh, (name)..." Purred Yves as he felt his heart beat so hard and fast against his ribcage, as if it was going to explode. He has no words to describe how adorable, how lovable and how delicious you are to him right now.

He tucked himself into the same bed, snaking his arms around your waist. Soon, you found yourself being cradled by Yves in his lap.

Your back is pressed against his chest as he buried his face into your hair. His own silky strands tickle you by your neck.

You giggled when he nipped at your cheek, he wrapped his lips around his teeth so it wouldn't tear into your skin no matter how hard he bites. It just felt like a firm yet harmless pinch between two knuckles.

He alternated between fluttery kisses and toothless nibbles. You squirmed and laughed hysterically when Yves utilized his nimble fingers to attack your ribs with tickles. It doesn't matter how you scrunch yourself, Yves will always get you to excite yourself.

"You charming little thief, how dare you steal my heart?" He hissed with mock anger before moving on to press his lips against yours.

You grinned and kissed back, loving how soft and supple they were, loving the taste of them. His hair shielded you from the harsh lighting of the room and his comforting smell made you forget the clinical stench of antiseptic in the air. The warmth he provides nullifies the cruel, artificial visual and physical coldness of the room.

He intertwined his fingers with yours, lightly squeezing them in his hold. But that is only with one hand.

The other is gripping so hard on your sheets that his nails started shredding holes into it. His thumb particularly pierced into the mattress. His veins were throbbing and raised, skin taut and digits suffering from tremors.

Yves occupied himself with your lips. Closing his eyes and enjoying the bliss he was handsomely rewarded with. He tries to ignore the fact that he failed to account for the deranged intensity of his cuteness aggression towards you.

Data be damned, he may have lost count of the number of touches he gave you today, but that one rare kiss from you was all worth it.

He lets go of you only to whisper three special words:

"I love you."

Before diving back in and showering you with tenderness as he fights the urge to painfully squash both of your face cheeks.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere male #oc yves #yandere concept #tw yandere #yandere x you #yandere oc x reader #male yandere oc x reader

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yessa-vie · 5 months

Text

fic recs list (completed) P. I ❣

→ IMPORTANT. the list is divided between completed (P. 01 || P. 02) and on going, most of them are Stray Kids because there's a considerable amount of those and most of them are smau.

→ TBR LIST ❣

→ LAST UPDATE. 29.12.2023 (dd/mm/yyyy)

LIST BELLOW THE CUT!

PART 01 | PART 02.

→ SYMBOLS. [♥] favorites || [⌨] smau || [✎] written ||[✉] smau with written parts ||[★] MDNI (reader's discretion is advised, sensitive and suggestive topics, not only smut)||[❄] new ones||

COMPLETE ❣

→ ONLY FOOLS FALL FOR YOU. (@hyunjinspark ) [♥][★][✉]

- Hwang Hyunjin. - smau with written parts. uni au. enemies to lovers. slow burn. idiots in love (at one point they become this in my personal opinion). - 70 chapters. - this is the story that got me back for good with fanfics, i swear, Jade is such an amazing writer i can't even start to contemplate everything. i would LITERALLY read her grocery shopping list if she allowes me too and i would thank her for it.

→ MY SUNSHINE. (@staysuki) [♥][★][✉]

- Lee Minho. - smau with two written parts. sunshine x "grumpy" (slightly tsundere). uni au. - 15 chapters + bonus. - literally one of my comfort reads, not even a joke. this story is just so... idek where to begin, but I just adore this story.

→ HAPPY DEATH DAY. (@staysuki) [♥][✉]

- Lee Felix Yongbok. - smau with written parts. friends to enemies to friends to lovers. slow burn. themes treated here may be triggering to some readers. - 41 chapters + bonus. - this was my first Felix fanfic and i absolutely LOVE IT! the whole thing was incredible, like i loved his character in Sweet Like Candy, having his spin off and being THIS GOOD? wow, it was just amazing!

→ SWEET LIKE CANDY. (@staysuki) [✉]

- Hwang Hyunjin. - smau with written parts. enemies to friends to lovers. - 70 chapters + bonus.

→ MY STRANGE ADDICTION. (@j-onedrabbles) [♥][★][✉]

- Lee Minho. - smau with written parts. uni au. mature themes and scenes. kinda strangers to lovers. - 27 chapters.

→ WHAT IS LOVE?. (@juyeonszn) [♥][✉]

- Lee Juyeon. - sm au and uni au. idiots in love (mostly juyeon). pure fluff with a tip of angst. - 35 chapters. - this was my first Juyeon fanfic and it's so so cute! the whole idea was incredible! the way she managed the situation was so cute and adorable, truly one of the cutest stories i've read so far.

→ IT'S NOT THE END OF THE WORLD. (@staysuki) [⌨]

- Yang Jeongin. - 11 chapters.

→ CAN THE WORLD JUST END ALREADY?. (@staysuki) [♥] [✉]

↪ season 02 of "IT'S NOT THE END OF THE WORLD".

- Yang Jeongin. - 21 chapters + bonus.

→ SUGAR AND SPICE. (@imagine-a-life-like-this) [♥][★][✉]

- Lee Minho. - 37 chapters. - one of the first Minho ones that I read and I completely loved it, I can't even begin to explain tbh, I just adore this story so much.

→ VENUS BROUGHT ME RIGHT TO YOU. (@gnabnahc-143) [✎]

- Hwang Hyunjin. - imagine, wc: 3,1k.

→ TIME OF LOVE. (@desayunho). [♥][★][✉]

- Choi San + Jung Wooyoung. - 48 chapters + bonus.

→ ISN'T IT DELICATE?. (@writing-skz) [⌨]

- Lee Minho. - 35 chapters + bonus.

→ LOVE FOOL. (@desayunho) [♥][⌨]

- Jeong Yunho. - 32 chapters.

→ HELLO STRANGER. (@mintquokka) [♥][✉]

- Lee Minho. - 40 chapters + bonus.

→ IGNOMINY. (@songmingisthighs) [♥][★][✉]

- Choi San. - 95 chapters.

→ I THINK YOU KNOW. (@ladylexis) [♥][✎]

- Lee Minho. - imagine, wc: 3,6k. - one of the best "bestfriend's brother" tropes i've ever read, that's it, hands down.

→ I WISH YOU WOULD. (@hyunniesgirl) [♥][✎]

- Hwang Hyunjin. - imagine, wc: 5,120. - and yet again another HP X SKZ cross over and I loved every second of it! i need more, i need a whole fanfic about it, idc how long it takes, i need it.

→ CRUSH CULTURE. (@1-800-hyunlix) [♥][⌨]

- Hwang Hyunjin. - 45 chapters.

→ SERENDIPITY. (@staytinys) [♥][⌨]

- Choi San. - 28 chapters.

→ OF ALL THINGS GOOD AND EVIL. (@staysuki) [♥][✉]

- ?? SKZ. - 20 chapters. - i'm a sucker for fantasy and this is another top tier one.

→ ALL I KNOW IS YOUR NAME. (@imagine-a-life-like-this) [♥][✉]

- Hwang Hyunjin. - 32 chapters + bonus (and alter ending).

→ UNTITLED??. (@atinycafe) [♥][✎]

- Choi San. - imagine, wc: ??.

→ EPIC HIGHS AND LOWS OF JYP UNIVERSITY. (@staysuki) [✉]

- OT8! Stray Kids. - 57 chapters in total (so far).

↪ SEASON 01.

- 26 chapters.

↪ SEASON 02.

- 31 chapters.

→ THE BOY IS BAD NEWS. (@milkandhyunnie) [✉]

- Hwang Hyunjin. - 42 chapters + bonus.

→ BUY ME A DRINK FIRST. (@tr0p1cal) [✉]

- Seo Changbin. - 28 chapters. - this is my official first Changbin fanfic i read and i'm so excited, it was so cute over all, i loved how she did the whole thing happen and i'm honestly so excited for the whole stars series, you have no idea!

→ WHAT'S YOUR SINE?. (@jeonginssa) [⌨]

- Lee Minho. - 10 chapters. (has ONE written chapter tho)

→ TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES. (@ahgastae) [⌨]

- Hwang Hyunijn. - 44 chapters + bonus.

→ THE JOURNAL. (@theright-sideofme) [⌨]

- Lee Minho. - 25 chapters.

→ STRAWBERRIES. (@tasteleeknow) [★][✎]

- Lee Minho + Han Jisung. - imagine, wc: 5k.

→ COLLATERAL DAMAGE. (@dalamjisung) [✉]

- Hwang Hyunjin. - 16 chapters.

→ THE VIEW. (@luvrhyune) [⌨]

- Hwang Hyunjin. - 14 chapters.

→ PROTECTION. (@bambikisss) [★][✎]

- Choi San. - imagine, wc: ?.

→ JUST SAY IT (THAT GIRL IS MINE). (@haechanhues) [♥][✉]

- Lee Minho. - 50 chapters.

→ PARTY OF THREE. (@cybrsan) [♥][★][✎]

- Choi San + Jung Wooyoung. - imagine, wc: 5,3k.

→ LOVE PLAYLIST. (@juyoens) [♥][⌨]

- Lee Hyunjae. - 14 chapters.

→ LOVE RISK. (@feelbokkie) [♥][✉]

- Hwang Hyunjin. - 20 chapters + bonus. - i saw she says this is her least favorite child and i understand, but yet i loved this story so much! it was the first one that i read and then i just entered the rabit whole that is enjoying @feelbokkie writing, so yeah, i'm eagerly waiting for the sequeal btw.

→ SUNDAY'S PARADIGM. (@sunboki) [♥][✎]

- Hwang Hyunjin. - imagine, wc: 2,6k.

→ STAR-CROSSED ENEMIES. (@mingiswow) [⌨]

- Seo Changbin + Hwang Hyunjin. - 40 chapter.

→ GOODNIGHT N GO. (@cosmic-railwayxo) [♥][✎]

- Hwang Hyunjin. - 03 chapters. - this story. THIS FUCKING STORY. it broke me and healed me and idek anymore. i loved every second of all three chapters. this story is so good it hurts!

#fic recs #ateez recs #ateez fic recs #skz recs #stray kids recs #skz fic recs #stray kids fic recs #tbz recs #kpop recs #kpop fic recs #yv.recs

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once-upon-a-thigh · 2 years

Text

The Truth

Summary: Wanda’s jealousy leads to disastrous circumstances. PERFECT LITTLE SECRET PART 2. 18+

Pairings: Fem!Reader X Milf! Wanda Maximoff, Yelena Belova X Kate Bishop X Fem!Reader (platonic), Fem! Reader X Carol Danvers (brief)

Class: Series; angst, smut

Warnings: First time writing in second person so I’m sorry for that, large age gap (18/37), mommy kink, possessiveness, strap on sex (r receiving), semi-public sex, exhibitionism, degradation, swearing, arguing.

Words: 4k

Life was easier now that your best friends knew of your secret relationship with your 37-year-old neighbour. The days were going by smoother almost now that there was less to hide. As well as, honestly, it was a relief to you that someone knew. By this point you were so incredibly infatuated with the woman it was nice to be able to express the happiness she brought out of you.

“I’ve never felt this way about anyone Lena. She just makes me feel so good, and I’m not just talking sexually, Wanda makes me feel more like me than I’ve ever felt before,” you gushed, eyes drooped to the table and unable to make eye contact with the blonde.

She pulled a disgusted face. “That’s the corniest shit I’ve ever heard,” she joked, at least you hope she’s joking.

“She sounds amazing Y/n, I just wish you told us earlier,” Kate, your other friend dropped in to the conversation from the chair opposite you.

“I know,” you whined, “but I had no choice, the least amount of people that know, the better. I can’t imagine what my parents would think if they found out.” You shuddered at the thought.

“Maybe they’ll be fine with it!” The sprightly brunette chimed.

“Don’t be an idiot Kate, what would your mother do if you were in the same situation?” Yelena rebutted.

“Probably throw me down the stairs-“ The three of you jumped when Kate’s sentence was interrupted by the slam of a book on the table.

“How many times am I going to have to tell you three to be quiet?” The librarian hissed, leering over you.

“Maybe just one more time?” Yelena chortled, however her laugh cut suddenly when she met the woman’s pierced eyes.

“Get out,” she hissed, causing the three of you to stand and pack your things hastily and rush out of the library, bumping shoulders along the way.

After giggling over the fact that none of you got any of your work done whilst you were there, you said goodbye before attempting to rush off towards the waiting car outside the gate. However, you were stopped when the pair tightened their grip on your linked arms.

“Any chance your lady friend could give us a lift to your street? We’ll walk from there.” The Russian batted her eyelashes.

“I don’t know guys, we can’t bring too much attention to ourselves…”

“We’ll be careful! Pleeeeeease!” Kate shook your arm, giving you her best puppy dog eyes.

“Fine, I’ll ask.” You gave in, shaking yourself out of their hold and jogging to the car.

Opening the passenger door, you couldn’t help the grin that instantly arose when you leaned down to see the woman.

“Hey sweet girl.” Her raspy use of the pet name sent shivers down your spine, reminding you of the many times she had used the term of endearment when praising you for the way you moved back your hips to me the rapid thrusts of hers.

“Hiii…” You giggled girlishly, instantly turned shy under her intense stare. “So my friends are wondering if you could drop them off on our street.” You scratched the back of your neck nervously, worried she wouldn’t be fond of the idea.

“Yelena and Kate?” She wondered, biting her lip in thought when you nodded to confirm. “Okay, but they’ve got to keep it down when they get out of the car. We don’t need any nosy neighbours getting in our business.”

“Okay! Thank you.” You clapped your hands happily, and Wanda practically melted at the sight of you being so excited over something so simple. She would do anything for you if it meant she could make you that happy.

You leaned down to lay a kiss on her warm cheek before jogging back to your friends who were playfully trying to tackle each other in the car park.

“Okay dorks, she said you can come but you have to be quiet when we get in the neighbourhood.”

Saluting you, Kate joined your side as you began to make your way back to the car. Yelena however, was stuck glaring at a short-haired blonde waving excitedly in your direction.

“Y/n! Wait up!” Turning towards the call, you noticed Carol Danvers, captain of the softball team and your chemistry partner, making her way towards you.

“God, not this mopho.” Yelena rolled her eyes.

“Quit it, she’s nice,” you reprimanded.

“She’s a stupid jock.” You shushed her reply just as Carol, who obviously heard the comment, stopped in front of you with a glare in the Russian’s direction. Her glare dropped instantly when she looked at you however, instead being replaced with a shy smile.

“Hey captain,” you cheeked, watching as red arose to her cheeks in embarrassment, you’re guessing.

“Hi Y/n, I was wondering if you’re still alright with me coming over today so we can work on the project?” She questioned, reminding you of the chemistry project Miss Harkness had set.

“Oh crap yeah, I totally forgot about that. Sorry.” You both laughed nervously. “But yeah, I’m fine with that.”

“Okay cool, do you just wanna…” she gestured back at her truck, hinting that she would drive you both back to your house to begin the project.

“Oh, actually my, uh, neighbour is driving back my friends and I today. But I’ll text you my address and I’ll meet you there in like an hour?” You almost slipped, having to restrain yourself from referring to Wanda as your girlfriend like you had been around Yelena and Kate for the last week since they found out about your relationship.

“Oh sure!” She nodded sheepishly, clumsily taking a couple steps back towards her truck. “So I’ll see you in an hour?”

“She did just say that blondie,” Yelena drawled.

“But Lena, you’re blonde..” Kate whispered.

Shushing them with your index finger in the air, you nodded kindly at Carol, waving her off with your other hand.

Shouting one last goodbye, you finally approached the car with your friends in tow.

Wanda stayed broodingly quiet when you gave her a peck on the cheek. “Sorry for the wait baby.”

She tapped the wheel with one finger, watching in the rear view mirror as your friends settled themselves in the back of the car.

“Thank you for the ride Miss Maximoff!” Kate politely voiced.

“Mmhm.” She hummed mindlessly, still staring into the rear view mirror.

“Wanda?” You verbalised, looking at her expectantly as she still hadn’t started the car.

“Who was that?” She questioned, still not breaking her gaze from the mirror as she began to drive off. She watched the blonde in the varsity jacket grin as she kept glancing at the car you had disappeared into.

“Who? Carol?” Your eyebrows bunched, completely confused at the woman’s interest in the jock.

“Don’t you mean Captain?” Kate joked, leaning her head in between the front seats and making kissy faces in your direction.

You pushed her back with a hand to her face, shaking your head. “It embarrasses her, it’s funny.” You shrugged.

“No, it turns her on.” Yelena let out a loud laugh.

“What?” Wanda barked. You took hold of the ‘Oh Jesus handle’ as she unintentionally sped up down the street.

“W-what? No-“ You blush, attempting to redeem yourself from the flirting you had inadvertently been taking part in.

“Face it Y/n, the idiot has been trying to get in your pants ever since you grew an ass.” The blonde grinned, leaning back in her seat and watching on as Wanda’s grip on the wheel turned whiter by the second.

You sputtered trying to come up with a reply, before settling with a grumbling “shut up.”

The rest of the drive home was silent other than the quiet music flowing through the radio. As soon as Wanda settled the car into her driveway, the duo in the back seats were clambering out, muttering their goodbyes. As soon as they left, Wanda grabbed hold of your neck and pulled you against her. Teeth clashed as she moved her lips against yours hastily, forcing every bit of resentment she held for the blonde she never met into the kiss.

Taking hold of the hair at the back of your head, she pulled you back so you were staring up at her uncomfortably. You didn’t mind though, as you were too busy imagining all the punishments she would possibly induce if it wasn’t for her boys being home from school.

“Don’t forget who you belong to,” she hissed, cupping your chin and squeezing your cheeks.

“Open your mouth,” she ordered firmly as you resisted her efforts. Giving in to her demand, your mouth dropped open. She smirked deviantly before spitting directly on your tongue. She tapped your chin until you closed your mouth, smearing the spit that missed across your lips with her ring-clad thumb. “Swallow.”

You did so instantly, making her laugh devilishly. “That’s my good girl. You would never want anyone other than your mommy to take care of you, would you?”

Her grip loosened enough for you shake your head dumbly.

“Words,” she spat.

“No mommy,” you muttered.

“Good girl. I want you to come over tomorrow whilst the boys are with their father.” She brushed her thumb over your blushed cheek softly. It was a command, but that didn’t irk you.

“Okay,” you smiled excitedly, “is 2pm okay?”

“Perfect.” She kissed you softly, with a gentleness that was completely opposite to the possessiveness she has previously displayed.

———————————————-

After taking a chilling shower to cool yourself down following your lover’s teasing, you hastily ran around your room picking up clothing and clearing space on your desk ready for your guest. Hearing the ring of the doorbell, you surveyed your room carefully to ensure there was nothing embarrassing around before making your way to the front door.

“Carol, hey!” You greeted, moving aside so the softball player could step inside. You led the nervous blonde to your room, thoroughly warning her of the mess before she could step inside. Your pestering over the mess was enough to distract you from the attentive gaping from the woman across the road.

Soon the two of you were sat on your bed cross-legged facing each other, open books between you and nothing written down.

“I really think using marbles in class is a bad idea, what if we drop them all?” You laugh, imagining your grumpy teacher finally slipping in those heels.

“But think about how much better it’ll be to display the types of bonding compared to a PowerPoint, which you know everyone is going to do,” she tilted her head at you, leaning forward and smiling teasingly.

“I guess you’re right,” you huff. Despite the boring context, you found yourself enjoying Carol’s company. You were happy to expand your friendship group beyond dumb and dumber. Carol is outgoing, kind, funny, leaning in startlingly close to your face, wait what?

Chapped lips meet yours gently, unmoving. Carol was cautious with the kiss, pulling back when she didn’t feel you melt in to it like she hoped you would.

“S-sorry,” she stuttered, seemingly shocked by her own actions. “I just- I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time. I really like you Y/n.”

You couldn’t help but flush at the revelation.

“Oh, Carol. I’m sorry but I’m actually seeing someone,” you frowned apologetically.

“Oh. Who? If you don’t mind me asking?” Carol felt a surge of jealousy, clenching her fists in an attempt to keep control of her emotions. You were Y/n, and so she remained as polite as possible whilst avoiding eye contact.

You bit your lip, wondering if you should tell the truth or not. You decided against it, not wanting to risk your relationship. “You don’t know her, she doesn’t go to our school.”

She laughed, getting up from the bed and shaking out her tense muscles. “Well maybe I’ll see her at varsity then if we’re playing against her school. Maybe then I can fight for your hand.” She winked teasingly, though you sensed a little truth in her words.

The atmosphere was quite awkward after that interaction, and so you gave her her section of the work and promised to buy the marbles for your presentation.

After she had left with an awkward one-armed hug to say goodbye, you couldn’t help the guilt that began to reside. You hadn’t kissed Carol back, and you know you don’t have feelings for her. But you didn’t push her away. You narrowed it down to the shock and confusion that led to you being so slow to react, but you still felt telling Wanda about what happened was the right thing to do.

———————————————————

It was time to go see Wanda, and it was an understatement to say you were nervous. Usually you would be ecstatic to go see your lover, but an angry Wanda was not usually something to look forward to, and a part of you couldn’t help the terrifying thoughts of her leaving you.

“Hello? Wanda?” You called out after helping yourself into the house.

“Up here babygirl!” You heard her raspy voice ring from up the stairs. She sounded like she was in a good mood, you couldn’t decide if that was a good or bad thing.

Making your way up the stairs towards the master bedroom, you gave yourself a mental pep talk to prepare yourself for her wrath. With one last deep breathe, you pushed open the bedroom door to see the beauty rifling through her closet.

Closing the doors, she made her way towards you and reached for your hips, tugging your body against hers instantly.

“I was just sorting through the closet to make room for some of your stuff for when you stay over more during the summer,” she grinned. The boys were going to a summer camp for the summer holidays, and so you planned a number of sleepovers. Her brunette hair tickled your cheeks as she leaned down to capture your lips in her own, however despite her cuteness you couldn’t help but let the feeling of guilt grow. Turning your head at the last second, her puckered lips pressed against your cheek chastely.

Pulling back, eyebrows furrowed, her concerned gaze shot at your heart.

“What’s wrong detka?” Her lips pout.

Pulling away from her, you took a seat on the edge of the bed. Reading the serious atmosphere, Wanda took a seat next to you.

“Okay so,” you paused. “Carol came over last night to walk on a chemistry project with me, because we’re partners.”

Wanda’s jaw clenched and her fists turned white. Though she nodded, as if she already knew.

Despite her obvious detest of the blonde, you carried on. “And, I don’t know what happened but apparently the girls were right about that crush she may or may not have on me…”

“What happened?” Her voice gritted through her teeth. The woman was ready to get in her car and find the dumb jock herself.

“She kissed me.”

Wanda stood up, hands gripping her hair as she seethed.

“It meant nothing, I didn’t even kiss back!” You retaliated, shaking your leg nervously.

You were expecting yelling and swearing. However, Wanda’s rigid back relaxed as she let out a long sigh. The strong hands entwined with her hair moved down her face until they dropped to her sides. Turning around after a minute, she dropped to her knees and braced her hands on your legs.

“Shh, relax baby. I’m not mad at you.” She brushed her thumb against one of your cheeks, calming your worried panting.

“You’re not?” Your eyes turned watery in relief.

“No, it’s not your fault you’re so damn enticing. And I know you would never disrespect mommy like that, would you?” Her resting hands began to grip your thighs.

“No mommy, never.” You shook your head desperately, eager to please.

“That’s my good girl.” A smile rose on your face at the praise. Who knew you would be let off this easily?

“But..” Oh. “I think you still need to be reminded of who you belong to.”

A gasp escaped you when she took hold of your sides and pulled you up from the bed. Fast as lightning she had your clothes off of you and was pressing your chest against the cold window, causing your nipples to perk up painfully. You stayed in that position like a good girl as she moved around behind you, following her rules. However, as you looked at your parents car parked at the quiet house across the street, you grew nervous.

“Wa- mommy, what if someone sees?” You caught yourself before making the mistake of using her name, one that would surely result in a punishment.

She leans over you, you gasp when you feel her naked chest pressed against your back and something solid prodding between your legs.

She chuckles. “What? Are you worried about everyone seeing what a whore you are for your mommy?”

You merely whimper in response, mind turning dumb as you lean your hips back to gain some friction against her strap.

“Look at you, falling apart for my cock.” Wanda took hold of your hair, arching your head back so she can whisper seductively in your ear.

At this moment, you no longer cared about who could possibly walk past and see you. All you wanted was Wanda. “Please.”

She moved a hand down to grip her strap, running the head through your already soaked folds. “Did you beg like this for that bitch you saw yesterday too, slut?” She thrusted against you slightly, causing the head to prod at your hole.

“N-no mommy! I promise!” Your eyes filled with tears as you felt your hole gradually be filled by the thick shaft.

“You’re mine,” she grunted as she filled you with a quick buck of her hips. You screamed at the intrusion, but her pace did not falter. She thrusted assertively, ploughing into you with intent on driving the idea of her ownership into you.

“Fuck!” She grunted, laying a hard slap on your ass as she continued to drive her hips against you. “You like this slut?” She panted from behind you.

“Yes mommy,” you squealed when she pulled out of you and flipped you around, grabbing under your thighs and pulling you up onto her muscular waist. The faux cock pushed into you again. She bucked short and fast thrusts into you, the sound of skin slapping filled the room alongside your loud moans.

One hand cupped your ass whilst the other reached up to grip your chin, forcing you to look into her eyes. “Look at me,” she demanded.

Your glazed eyes met her fiery ones, your mouth dropped open whilst she bit her bottom lip to keep her grunts in.

The coil in your stomach began to unravel as her thrusting did not relent. Her hips began to stutter as you came, your walls sucking the cock inside you further. “I’m cumming, I’m cumming!” You whimpered.

Wanda moaned as she too began to reach her peak. Pressing herself against you, she dropped her head on your shoulder as she ground against you, driving you further into the window. Glancing up from your glistening skin as she came, she made eye contact with the same blonde she had seen earlier standing on your porch. The older woman grinned as the blonde dropped the flowers she was holding onto the ground, walking away in a strop. Her thrusts slowed as she laid a delicate kiss on your shoulder before pulling out the piece and lowering your shaky legs to the ground.

Your knees immediately buckled, but her strong arms supported you. Carrying you over to the bed, she lowered you gently with a forgiving kiss on your forehead.

“I love you,” she whispered.

—— the next day ——

You were sat at home on a Sunday night, watching tv alone and missing your lover. Wanda’s kids had just got back that evening, and so you couldn’t stay over without raising suspicion. Plus, your parents would never let you sleep over at “Yelena’s” on a school night.

“Y/n, your mother and I are going to visit a friend that has been having some problems, we probably won’t be back until you’re asleep.” Your dad rounded the sofa to speak to you, shrugging on his jacket.

“Oh, okay.” You feigned a frown, instead excited to use the excuse to see Wanda. It’s not often she gets to visit your room.

“Bye sweetheart,” your mother waved as she left the house. For some reason, you felt her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. The thought was pushed to the back of your mind however when your head flooded with images of Wanda sinfully lying in your bed.

Watching your dad’s car leave the drive, you were quick to shoot Wanda a text.

Parents have gone out for a few hours, are the boys asleep? - Y/n

I’ll be right over. - Wanda

She didn’t take much convincing of course. Before you knew it, the woman was pushing you down onto the family couch, suffocating you with her lustful kisses. Soft moans left the both of you as your hands travelled along the curves of the other. You had only touched her yesterday, and yet you just couldn’t get enough.

Your hands were just slipping under the hem of her shirt when you were forced to break away at the sound of the front door slamming against the wall.

“Mum, Dad,” your eyes widened as your parents walked into the room, disappointment clear on their face.

Wanda jumped up from the couch, straightening out her clothes as she cleared her throat. “Darren, Mindy, it’s not-“

“Shut it cougar!” Your mother interrupted.

“Oh god,” you whined embarrassed, dropping your head into your hands.

“Y/n, how could you let yourself be manipulated by this woman? What you have been doing is completely unacceptable,” she continued.

“We haven’t been doing anything!” You wailed, tears beginning to drop over your flushed cheeks.

“Oh please, don’t lie to us. Your friend told us about what she saw.” Your father pointed at you, his finger shaking in fury as his face scrunched up in disgust towards the end of his claim.

The comment confused you, there was no way Yelena or Kate would say anything about your relationship with your neighbour.

“Friend?” Before either of your parents could settle your curiosity, the blonde jock who had recently kissed you walked into the house nervously.

“Carol? What?” You looked at her disturbed, how did she know?

“I’m sorry Y/n,” she wrung her fingers together nervously. “But I had to show you that what this woman is doing to you is wrong,” she gestured towards the woman, who was growing angrier by the minute.

“You little-“ Before Wanda could continue with her insult, you turned to her, tears further clouding your vision as you began to realise just what had happened.

“She saw us?” You questioned, confirming your parents suspicions. “You let her see us? How could you do that.” How could she put your relationship in jeopardy like that?

She turned her full attention to you, attempting to step in your direction but was faltered when your father drew closer to her. “Baby, I’m sorry I just needed her to see that you are mine-“

Your mother scoffed, “don’t you dare call her that. You’re disgusting, she is a child!”

“Mum! I’m not a child, I’m 18,” you declared firmly, crossing your arms.

“You’re not even finished with school yet Y/n, this woman is sick, and is using you for her disgusting sexual gratification.”

“It’s not like that,” Wanda butted in, ignoring the menacing look your father is yet to drop. “I love her.”

Your heart soared, but you couldn’t enjoy the moment with your parents staring you down.

“I want you to leave my house, and never return,” your father blocked her view of you as he took another threatening step towards her. “If I ever see you around my daughter again, I will be telling everyone in town about what you have done. You will be a disgrace, your sons will never look at you the same again.”

You could see Wanda’s attempt at bravery falter, you immediately began to sob. This great love was over. Taking a step back, she walked out of the house quietly, with one last longing look in your direction, beautiful green eyes filled with tears.

———————————————

Sorry it took so long! I haven’t had a moment to myself. Hope you enjoyed.

Love, Meg xx

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