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#help hes to sexy to be traumatized :(

freejamtime · 8 months

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actually i'm crazy about this now. astarion and gale are perceived by the fandom in a lot of different ways solely because astarion has been clocked as "the sexy one" and gale has been clocked as "the incel" and it is sooo fucking annoying to read about half of the time.

like people are willing to stomach the idea of astarion being rude and willing to do bad things as a survival tactic, because those things don't stop them from degrading him to the descriptor "sexy" and nothing else. people talk about his addiction to blood positively because the way you sate it is by doing something perceived as intimate. so they believe sexy elf man is sexy and nothing else and then whine when he perpetuates the cycle of abuse and doesn't actually care about them.

and then meanwhile gale, who is arrogant and a little too ambitious for his own good (but still has the common decency of "hey bad thing bad"), is treated more poorly because how are you supposed to degrade him to being attractive/sexy and nothing else when his suffering is much more impersonal?? HIS addiction is now a haha funny crack joke because it's not "sexy". HIS relationship is "haha he fumbled a goddess" because he constantly talks about his ex. because he has issues. and mystra is, while not the person who put it there directly, the reason he's got a bomb in his chest

so you have this issue where people are sooo determined to mischaracterize people to the point where they make astarion the "hot twink" or whatever (COMPLETELY ignoring that's the entire point, he wants you to think that because that's what he's been forced to behave as for survival) and gale the "annoying incel man" because there's such a difference of what they can and can't sexualize about the two of them.

this isn't a real genuine issue or anything but it makes traversing this fandom SUPER annoying when people hate one of my favorite little dudes for something they mistakenly love astarion for. like i'm sorry astarion is not your flirty little meow meow he IS putting up an act he IS dissociating throughout half of his romance scenes i hope you know that. and also gale is traumatized and not the "nice guy complex" man for wanting to win back mystra's favor. hope that helps

#bg3 #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #.txt

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calliesmemes · 2 months

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ABSOLUTELY UNHINGED COMEDIC RELIEF

ASSORTED QUOTES FROM TUMBLR TEXTPOSTS, X (formerly known as twitter) POSTS, TIKTOK, MEMES, AND OTHER SOURCES AROUND THE INTERNET

CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.

SPECIFY muse for multimuses.

“ Currently considering becoming a bother and a nuisance, maybe even a menace or a rascal. ”

“ Hungry? Eat the government. ”

“ Yes, I wanna fuck after every argument. ”

“ Silence, you uneducated peanut! ”

“ They should invent a being alive that isn’t so difficult. ”

“ Women have to think I’m hot or none of this matters. ”

“ Due to personal reasons I will be named an enemy of the state. ”

“ Being overdressed is a myth made up by people who didn’t want you to have fun and be sexy. ”

“ What even are daddy issues? Just traumatize your father back. ”

“ I LOVE complaining! You can’t take that away from me! ”

“ I went to the silly goose convention and they all knew you. ”

“ I’m simultaneously ‘I’m tired of this grandpa’ and ‘that’s too damn bad!’ ”

“ The word ew coming out of a pretty girl’s mouth holds so much power … I think that it can tear apart nations. ”

“ Someone made fun of my shoes and the whole time I just thought of ways to push them out the window. ”

“ If you’re short, simply get taller. ”

“ I better think twice? Buddy I don’t even think once. ”

“ My off putting looks, awkward demeanor, and strange behavior have captivated you. ”

“ There’s something deeply, fundamentally wrong with you. Can we kiss? ”

“ You are a fool. When you walk, clown music plays. ”

“ I mean yeah he’s evil and all but what if I were his favorite? ”

“ I really do hate thinking. ”

“ In my defense, I simply do not vibe with the law. ”

“ I’ve done nothing wrong. Except all the atrocities. Besides that, I’m innocent. ”

“ Sorry I couldn’t hear you over my internal monologue. ”

“ Of course you have white hair and trauma. ”

“ So apparently the bad vibes I’ve been feeling are actually ‘severe psychological distress’. ”

“ Stop calling me a bad person just because I’m orchestrating your downfall! ”

“ The more lip gloss I collect the longer I live. ”

“ Sorry that I am obsessed with you in the unhealthiest way possible. As if it's my fault ”

“ The multiple failed assassination attempts against me have helped build both character and self esteem. ”

“ I could be your loser boyfriend. Do you ever think about that? ”

“ Accidentally went and got myself killed yesterday, but god wont let me die so I’m back ”

“ What do you mean napping isn't a good coping mechanism? What do you mean my problems are still here? ”

“ Academic validation is required for my sanity. ”

“ RIP to everyone killed by the gods for hubris but I’m different and better. Maybe even better than the gods. ”

“ Researching the stages of grief to see if I can get them finished in ten minutes tops. ”

“ My parents were like I’m gonna make a child that is so beyond help. ”

“ It’s not easy to admit when you’re wrong, and that’s why I won’t do it. ”

“ Why can’t this family ever have a funky good time? ”

“ How do I show people that I’m more than my unethical career choice? ”

“ I fucked my way into this mess, and I’ll fuck my way out. ”

“ You look so biteable today. ”

“ Why am I suffering? I have so many correct opinions and takes. ”

“ I AM HAUNTED BY A PAST THAT I CANNOT GO BACK TO! anyways ”

“ Challenging authority, angering gods. The family business. ”

“ Third base is me telling you about my father. ”

“ Hey girl. Plagued by terrifying visions? ”

“ Got caught giving a fuck. Embarrassing. ”

“ I didn’t ‘miss’ the red flags; I saw them and thought that they looked sexy. ”

“ Do my dark circles and deteriorating health make me look hot? ”

“ I get my news from the only reliable source, cryptic symbolism in my dreams. ”

“ Another day of being a bisexual disaster. ”

“ I’m going to let myself be a little unhinged today, as a treat. ”

“ Some of you act like murder is such a big deal. ”

“ You wanna hunt me for sport so bad that it makes you look stupid. ”

“ You’re not a girlboss unless you’ve killed someone. ”

“ It’s so weird how no one ever has correct opinions about things except for me. ”

“ Hello, my love — I mean, my rival ”

“ No one is calling me baby and it’s outrageous I can’t believe it. ”

“ No talking stage. Mutual obsession and you see god in my eyes or nothing. ”

“ I DON’T UNDERSTAND HOOKUP CULTURE DIE IN MY ARMS ”

“ Yes baby your emotional walls are high and impenetrable can we kiss now? ”

“ Affection is disgusting. Drown me in it. ”

“ I am gatekeeping my respect from you. ”

“ Well, well, well, if it isn’t the consequences of my own actions. ”

“ I am equal parts fuck around and find out and please don’t yell at me I’ll cry. ”

“ Short legs, big butt. I’m a corgi. ”

“ Fuck being the bigger person; I’m going to start biting people. ”

“ Well that wasn’t very slay of you! ”

“ May I please get a crumb of affection? ”

“ I crave power! Please don’t yell, though; I’m sensitive. ”

“ You call it a near death experience; I call it a vibe check from God. ”

“ Here are some scissors. Now cut it out. ”

“ Might commit a little tomfoolery, maybe even some shenanigans. ”

“ All these flavors, and you choose to be salty. ”

“ How can I live, laugh, love in these conditions? ”

“ What if I said ‘to be honest’ but then lied? ”

“ I'm financially at a stage where I understand why people do fraud. ”

“ Yes I may be evil and morally corrupt, but I’m also incredibly beautiful and I think that makes up for it honestly. ”

“ Debates are stupid. Why would I want to sit down and argue with someone blatantly dumber than me? ”

“ I forget but I do NOT forgive.. I'm just walking around hating bitches can't remember why ”

“ Ding dong your opinion is wrong! ”

“ I’m coming for your kneecaps. ”

“ You dropped your nose you fucking clown. ”

“ Are you a fire alarm? ‘Cause you are really fucking loud and annoying. ”

“ Call me an escalator, because I let people down. ”

“ I love me a good lesbian scandal! ”

“ If you can’t run away from your problems, you’re not running fast enough. ”

“ Everything I want to do is illegal. ”

“ Don’t make me hit your ankle with my Barbie scooter! ”

“ I tell gay jokes because I am a gay joke. ”

“ Fuck! I dropped my mental stability! ”

#askbox meme #askbox prompt #rp ask meme #ask box #roleplay sentence meme #sentence starters #roleplay prompts #roleplay sentence starters #* sentence meme

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idolomantises · 6 days

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One thing I'll never forget was when a Hazbin Hotel fan said that my Angel Dust redesign was bad because he "looks like Lady Dimitrescu"

you mean... the hot sexy vampire lady? thanks!

edit:

I do hope to stop talking about the fandom eventually (probably soon since it doesnt affect me as much as it used to) but I never appreciate people trying to police my feelings on the whole ordeal.

What I experienced genuinely traumatic, probably the worst day over a design I was just working on for fun. Not helped by these people not only refusing to apologize but doubling down by spouting off vile things my way. terrible fandom, terrible community is only going to continue to get worse and eat itself into oblivion if it cant get its shit together

Although I do think the Lady Dimitrescu complaint was funny like what bizarre criticism LOL

#txt #jokes aside apparently they didnt like how feminine i made him which again. Drag Queen.#the pilot had multiple jokes where characters could not tell that he was a man. i purposefully designed him to look more feminine #this community is very interesting!

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bittersweetyrn · 4 months

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big fan of essek thelyss, not the fanon interpretation, which is either "smol bean, tiny fragile elf who's a sweetheart and basically a child" or people mistakenly calling betrayal of one's home country a "war crime" and then proceeding to be flippant about it anyway, but the real Essek

pretentious motherfucker that committed treason bc he though he was smarter than everyone else

learned to float literally just to impress other rich people

canonically neutral evil

basically head spymaster of his country and master of lies but sucks shit lying to his friends

stayed bitchy even after his redemption arc

"there is nothing I would love more than to not be around you all for the remainder of this day"

a space wizard that crushed someone with telekenesis just to show off (the person was already dying)

sexy feet, nice ass, overall hottie

fell in love with a traumatized wizard of his enemy country and it was mutual despite all the betrayal

faggot

gave away state secrets to enemy wizard bc he though he was sexy

discovered time travel with his boyfriend

proceeded to say they shouldn't use time travel (bc now he's a good boy) but was willing to sacrifice everything and help if his bf wanted to use it

once confessed he had such a bad fight with his dad that his dad ran into the demon caves and never returned (essek doesn't feel bad about this at all)

young for an elf but still 120 years old, he called his bf "young man" and flexed on him about how much more evil he is

#anytime I imagine him stealing the beacons its set to the music from Sinbad where eris steals the book of peace #the way people say “he's basically a teenager!” to excuse his actual evil acts #characters are evil and its cool #very much “my guy didn't do that! he did a bunch of other shit tho”#he is all these cool things yet unfortunately the dice were never on his side 😔#I only have the most correct opinions on essek #I literally don't even critrole anymore but he is my bitch ass wife #critical role #essek thelyss #essik theylas #ask me abt my fic series “I sensed we loved each other without knowing”

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cjjohansson · 6 months

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from across the room, to between the sheets.

natasha romanoff x reader. - for months you have been longing for her. tonight it finally changes. -

reader has a penis. fluff? SMUT! oblivious reader? who knows. i don't.

18+!!!!!

It first happened at a party Tony hosted. You thought it was innocent at first. The way she kept staring at you while she stood with her boyfriend's arm around her shoulders. But everytime she looked at you, you couldn't help but stare back. Your eyes continuously move slowly down her body, drinking her in. She has always been beautiful. Sexy even. And anyone who ever told you that THE Black Widow, Natasha Romanoff, wasn't beautiful or sexy…were simply blind or idiots.

You could talk about her for hours. Well at the start it was mainly about her body. But after that one party conversations flowed through you both. They came naturally. The connection instantly there as you spoke about everything and nothing at the same time.

You both bonded over your traumatic childhoods at 3am when you were both plagued by nightmares. Which you always found amusing at how you both found each other even when you both lived at 2 different ends of the Avengers compound.

You were a SHIELD agent and one of the best so to say. You weren't originally based there, you had only recently been moved a few weeks before the party.

But it was like as soon as you both laid eyes on eachother you were both hooked. Like it was a secret connection that no one could know about. Her boyfriend was on the team. It would cause problems at work and it wasn't worth it. But she WAS worth it.

The times she held you in her arms when you couldn't shake off a bad flashback after a nightmare. Her hand carding through your hair, her body pressed tightly against hers. You would be dead if her boyfriend had seen.

You were friends. Good friends. But nobody knew. Nobody could ever know. She was technically your superior. SHE HAD A BOYFRIEND!

Tony practically hosted parties every month.

The same thing happening over and over. You would feel her eyes on your back and when you turned you were always met with her low smirk and longing eyes. But again he was always next to her.

It happened for months, secret meet ups whenever one of you had a nightmare, your phone flashing up filling your dark room. A text from her. Always a simple text. ‘The garden.’ You would be out of bed in seconds. You had even gone as far to change the ringtone of her text, even when sleep filled you the sound of your phone recognising her text tone brought you straight out of sleep.

It was difficult. Being friends with her was difficult, even though it felt like the easiest thing in the world. You started to think about her more often. She would plague your thoughts, the need to be next to her filled your bones. All you could think about was her, every second of every day she was in your head. There was no doubt that by this point you had fallen in love with her. She wasn't just beautiful or sexy. She was caring, strong minded, and intelligent. She was no longer just a body you could admire from far away. She was now a real human who your heart couldn't not fall for. It was stupid.

God of course it was stupid. The whole time, from the moment you met her, she belonged to someone else. Her body laid with another. But your brain couldn't stop telling you maybe she liked you too. Why else would she seek comfort in another when she has someone already?

You always wanted to ask, but part of you also never wanted to know the truth. So you never asked.

You thought a secret was better than nothing. So if that was the only way you could have her then that is how you would take it.

But that all seemed to change when Tony hosted another party 8 months after you had first laid eyes on her.

Your body shook in the elevator as you made your way to the party floor. The frill of finally seeing her again consumed you. You hadn't seen her for a week, she had been away on a mission and when she had come back you had them left for one too. You had only gotten home that morning. You couldn't wait to see her across the room, couldn't wait to see her smirk fill her face as your own eyes took her whole self in.

You heard her before you saw her. Her infectious laugh had your head instantly turning to the bar where she stood with no other than Clint Barton. You knew he was her best friend. Maybe now after 8 months you could finally approach her in public but your whole body froze when you saw Bucky Barnes, her boyfriend, walk up behind her and throw his arm around her shoulders and pull her into a half hug. You turned in the other direction after that. But if you hadn’t maybe you would have seen the way she pushed him off of her and punched his shoulder calling him an idiot.

You once again stood far away from her, but never once letting her out of your sight. You wondered if she could feel your eyes on her. And your question was answered when she turned away from the bar and her eyes instantly met yours. You had to hold the blush that threatened to creep up your throat over her finding you. But that wasn't what shocked you. What shocked you was her turning back to the bar and grabbing another beer, her feet moving her in your direction and before you knew it she stood in front of you.

It was like you could feel everyone's eyes on you. People were definitely wondering why Natasha was approaching you of all people. Especially Bucky Barnes.

“I missed you this week.” Natasha sheepishly muttered as she handed you the beer from her hand. Your blush came at full force then. “I missed you too.” You couldn't help but take a nervous sip of your drink as she chuckled at you.

“Stop thinking about everyone staring at us.” Nat said louder this time, her eyes staring intensely into yours. “Well it is very hard to not think about it when your boyfriend looks like he wants to come over here and rip my head off.” You chuckle back at her taking another sip on your drink, but quickly shut yourself up when you notice her confused expression on her face. “And who is my boyfriend?” You choked on the drink in your mouth. Was she being serious? “Er? Bucky?” You reply, nerves filing your body once again. She laughed loudly at your reply, jokingly wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. You had never felt so confused. “Bucky? My boyfriend. No, definitely not.” Okay, definitely confused.

“Wait, what? He isn’t your boyfriend?”

“Have I ever said he was?”

“Well no, I just, whenever we are at parties he always has his arm around you and whispers things in your ear…I just assumed…”

“Ohh you assumed? Well you’re very wrong.” Her smirk back on her face as she now takes a sip from her drink. Her eyes flutter over your face, then they lower, following your whole body as she takes in your suit. “You look really, really nice tonight.” Natasha’s voice turns husky as she takes a step closer towards you. Your body is heating up over just her voice, your head feeling dizzy at how perfect this woman is. You manage to swallow the breath you were holding and find the courage to reply, “And you Tasha, are looking as beautiful as ever.” Her cheeks flood red, she lowers her head in embarrassment, you already knew how much she hated being complimented.

You feel your arm move before your brain can actually catch up, your arm hooks around her waist and pulls her closer. Part of you expected her to back away. But instead she willingly moves closer herself, her right hand coming up and laying on your chest.

You can feel everyone's eyes on you even more than you did a moment ago. The movement is so intimate and vulnerable. And she, the big bad Black Widow, was letting it happen. You feel as she takes a breath, her head finally lifting. Her eyes meet yours. And it feels as though everyone who was staring is no longer in the room. It is just you and her.

“I don't know if it is just liquid courage, and I promise I’m definitely not drunk but I’ve been wanting to tell you something for a while…” Natasha breaths out, nerves filling her body, an action you feel is so rare from the woman in front of you.

“You can tell me anything.”

“I…I have liked you since the moment I laid eyes on you 8 months ago in this very room. I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you…I just, I didn't want to lose whatever we had but I spoke to Clint and…”

“You spoke to Clint about me?” A teasing grin falls on your face, your insides feeling warm and fuzzy over her admission. “Is that all you have to say about what I just told you? Come on Y/n…I like you, and I like you a lot, like you consume…” Your hand touches her cheek first, your fingers play with some hair that has fallen onto her face. “Can you stop talking for 2 seconds and let me kiss you Tasha.”

“Yes, yeah. I would very much like…” Your lips touch hers before she can finish her sentence. Your hand on her cheek holds her securely on your lips. Both of you move together, you move as one. Her hand curls around the edge of your suit jacket, pulling you impossibly closer to her. She can most likely feel your heart beating out of your chest as her tongue swipes against your lower lip begging for entrance and you want to allow it but the people in the room come back to your mind as well as your trousers tightening around you. You smile against her lips, her own curling up after yours as you both pull away from one another.

“I wish we could leave right now but people would definitely talk more about us than they are already going too.” She whispers between you both, her lips red and slightly swollen.

“Yeah well they better not look down then.” You awkwardly murmur to her. Her eyes fly down and then back up again as your cheeks burn red again. “I don’t think I can stay here knowing you have a problem that I am very capable of sorting out.” Natasha huskily replies, her eyes darkening, she looks up at you through her eyelashes and you swear you feel yourself get even harder. You groan in annoyance. Your head leaning down to press into her forehead. “You're killing me right now red…” Natasha leans up to press a gentle kiss to your lips. Her head then moves so she can whisper in your ear, “Please, lets just leave…” She practically begs. You nod your head, your body winning over. She turns in your arms. Her ass pressing into you and you have to swallow the moan that comes over you. Your beers are long forgotten on the table you were standing next to. Your heavy arms are now around her waist and you bring her even closer to you. You both walk through the room attached to one another. People stare and all Natasha can do is chuckle at their faces.

As soon as the elevator doors close, she turns in your arms. Her body once again leaning against yours as she chases your lips. A whimper leaves her mouth as you grip her ass and press her into you, your lips finally meeting hers. Her hand moves down to grip you through your trousers, a moan leaving your mouth at the sudden action. You manage to move your leg between her legs, her body shuddering as you take a hold of her hips. You grind her hips hard into you, her body shaking as she feels your muscles through your trousers. Your own body shudders when you feel how wet she is.

“Fuckk, baby…” she moans as you start to move her faster against you, her body tensing up, your instinct telling you she is already close to cumming has you moving one of your hand to your trousers and opening them, your trousers becoming painfully tight over the sinful sounds falling from her. Natasha moves her lips down your neck, she bites and sucks all over your neck until you are moaning loudly, her face pulling into a smirk when she realises she has found one of your spots. She chuckles lowly against you but gets cut off as you pull her down even harder onto your leg, her hips moving faster as she suddenly cums. Her body tenses and her head falls against your shoulder. Her breathing fast, while she slows her grinding and then comes to a stop.

Her hand instantly moves to your boxers but before she can touch you the doors to the elevator open and she is pulling you along to her bed room.

You're not given the chance to even acknowledge her room as she pushes you up against the wall and her lips are instantly latched back onto yours. Her hand now successfully wraps around your hardened length as she jerks you teasingly. Your hands come up to her back, fingers finding the zip of her dress and pulling it down. She removes herself from you and steps out of her dress, your eyes nearly bulging out of your head when you take note of her bare body. It somehow makes you feel hotter knowing she was wearing nothing underneath her dress. You kick off your own shoes, pull down your own trousers and boxers, kicking them off somewhere in the room as Natasha starts to undo your shirt buttons. But they seem to annoy her as she chooses to rip your shirt instead.

The showing of her strength has your breathing deepen. She looks up at you innocently, moving to leave a kiss on your lips, you go to chase them but stop when you notice her lowering herself onto the floor. Your eyes follow hers and take note on how she keeps eye contact while she teasingly licks the tip of your dick, your hips buck, impatience filling you, she notices the change in your face, desperation overtaking you and she finally wraps her lips around you. She takes you slowly, her head bobbing up and down until her nose finally touches your stomach. You try to stop yourself from thrusting but the sound of her gagging has you gripping the back on her head and start to fuck her mouth.

You groan at the muffled sounds coming from her, your abs tightening as you pull her on and off of yourself. “Gon cum if you keep doing that baby girl.” Natasha’s eyes go hazy at your words, her body falling into submission as you bring her back to your tip. “You wanna make me cum?” Your cocky tone turns her on as she nods her head with you in her mouth, she brings one of her hands up to grip onto the base of your cock. Her hand and head falling into a rhythm. “Sh-shittt, gonna, I’m gonna cum.” You husk out, you half expect her to pull away but are met with her eyes connecting to yours once again and her head moving faster, you instantly understand, your hand pulling her hair into a ponytail, and fucking her mouth again, both of your groans fill the room and your body flinches as you finally release your cum into her mouth. She keeps sucking you dry as your body slumps against the door. She eases off of you slowly, getting back up to her feet. Her face comes into view and you feel yourself start to get hard again over the dopey expression on her face and the cum that is glistening on her lips.

You don't stop yourself when you lean to kiss her, pulling her body closer to you once again. You never want to experience her body never being this close to you ever again. Her stomach presses against your already hard again dick and you pull her over to the bed. You sit comfortably against the headboard while she climbs onto your lap, leaving hot wet kisses over your neck as she grinds her hips over your dick.

Your hands fall to her hips to lift her up, her hand flies down and moves your head to her opening. You slowly lower her, letting her get used to your size before you even attempt to move. "Fuckkk, baby you're so big." She breathes into your mouth as she starts to move her hips up and down at a slow pace.

Your brain instantly falls into how you want the rest of this night to go. "Be a good girl and take it, yeah.." You reply as you slowly flip her over, with yourself still inside of her. "Fuck detka..." Natasha pants as you grind into her steadily. The russian falling from her lips turning you on even more. Her face contorts as you hit the perfect spot inside of her, her legs coming to move around your waist holding you tight, her hands falling tightly onto your back as she digs her nails into you.

"Fucking me so good..." Natasha breathlessly moans into the room, her body moving to meet your thrusts halfway. She grinds her hips into yours, her hands stretching down your back, mostly likely leaving blood in their movements, her mouth falling open in a silent moan as you pull out to the tip and slam back into her.

You pull her hands from your back, not letting up your thrusting as you lay her hands above her head, your hands grip onto hers as you thrust even harder into her, you watch as your hands drain with colour with how tight she is holding you, “Wanna hear you scream for me, baby girl. Can you be a good girl and do that for me?” You pant out into her ear, her head nods as she moans sinfully. You repeat your action from earlier, you pull out so only the tip is still in her and roughly fill her up again, her moans getting even louder. You don't stop that action, loving the way her eyes close and pornagraphic moans leave her as you fill her up. You fill her up fast, your head moaning down to rest on her shoulder as you groan against her hot skin. Her head flies back at your rough thrusting.

The whole room feels hot, her skin against yours feels hot. Your deep panting mixing with her moans.

You feel yourself coming closer to the edge, but you want her to cum with you. Your hands release hers and one moves to support yourself on the headboard, her hands moving back to grip your back, your other hand snakes between your bodies reaching her clit. "FUCK, Y/N! Don't stop, don't stop!" Natasha finally screams so loud you fear people at the party will hear her but you don't stop, your dick continues to move inside of her at a fast pace, your thumb speeding up the circles on her clit.

"Want you to cum inside, together." She says before she moves her lips between your neck and collarbone, her teeth biting into the area, she instantly tightens around you, her walls squeezing you to the point you have to change to deeper short thrusts. Your body is on hyperdrive at the thought of painting her walls with your cum. “You feel so fucking good, shittt. I’m gonna cum” Natasha moans.

"Okay baby, okay....cum- cum for me" You stutter out as you feel her gush around you, her cum hitting your stomach as you pull back more, your body tensing as you release inside of her, her body shaking as feels you cum inside. Your thumb slows down along with your hips, silently not wanting this to end. You look down not wanting to miss the way both of your cums mix together and squirt out between your thrusts.

Your moments eventually stop, her hands coming up to play with your hair, your body collapsing onto hers. Your body keeps shuddering as you feel her clench and unclench around you. Your dick already starting to get hard again. She brings your face out of her neck and kisses you slowly. It soon moves to passion as your hips slowly start to move inside of her again. Already wanting to take her all over again. She is like a drug, and you already know you're addicted.

“Fuckk baby, you're perfect, you're mine okay? You're mine…” You moan possessively against her lips, her own lips pulling into a smirk as she whispers back into your lips, “I was yours from the moment we laid eyes on each other.”

#natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff imagine #black widow x reader #black widow #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader smut #natasha x y/n #kinktober #marvel smut #natasha alianovna romanova #natasha x you

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artificergorgug · 1 month

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Been thinking a lot about how Fabian uses the word triggering. He uses it in reference to the sexy rat, to the term 'turncoat', and (i believe) about Chungledown Bim

And he says it like a joke, right? Like the point is that Lou is making a joke because haha a sexy rat and a mirror abandoning Fabian and a funny-named gnome that wants to shit in his mouth are all funny concepts so why shoudn't it be funny that they're traumatizing

Except, I think Fabian is using that term earnestly. I think he is genuinely upset by how a sexy rat wanted to violate him in the nightmare forest and that in order for him to progress he had to lay down and give coerced consent to it

I think he is deeply hurt by people he loves leaving him. Sure, this time it's a mirror being a 'turncoat', but it's also his mom going on vacation with Gilear. And thinking about how Fabian interacts with Cathilda, treats her like a parent and a caregiver, you have to think that his dad was at the very least emotionally unavailable (if not physically so) and we all know about his mom's sensory deprivation egg

I think Chungledown Bim terrifies him in ways he can't articulate. The representation of how he's fallen short of his father's legacy persuing him endlessly. Being given spells and wealth and access by his devil father. Tracking him down to degrade him in an extremely visceral way

Fabian says that things are triggering with a smile on his face and a laugh in his voice. He's learned that saying the uncomfortable thing means money being thrown at a problem. He's learned that you're supposed to distance yourself from your feelings, to self-medicate

He doesn't have the skills or the practice to tell his friends in all seriousness that the things they say bother him. Remind him of his hardest days - in Leviathan, the Nightmare Forest, the Red Waste

And the part that hurts the most is that if he had this earnest conversation, his friends would be there. They'd respect him. Maybe help him unlearn some of the lessons that have shaped this ineffective request for help in the first place

But he doesn't ask and he says it as a joke and they hear it as a joke and nobody heals

#fabian seacaster #fhjy spoilers #d20 #fantasy high #dimension 20 #chungledown bim #ecaf #the sexy rat #trauma #meta #character study #i think i still don't know what character studies are

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wriothesleybear · 7 months

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I love wrio with all my heart and I’ve been seeing so many baby videos on my fyp it made me think about wrio having baby fever 😣 he sees you doting on Sigewinne or something and his brain instantly starts to think about how good of a mama you would be to his babies 🥺

omg i love this anon🤭 wrio for sure has a breeding kink and he does think from time to time about you carrying his pups. he knows you'd be a great mother especially by how you take care of Sigewinnie and kids in general. ahh just imagine you're bonding with Sigewinnie and playing with stickers in Wrio's office while having a tea party with the three of you and Wrio just watches from the sidelines, enjoying the scene. he dreams about you and him having a child of your own, having tea parties, talking about stickers, etc. you two have talked about having a family before but held off because you two didn't think it was the right time plus Wrio has some personal issues and worries. he'd be worried he wouldn't be a good dad and deep inside, he still is a bit traumatized from being an orphan and the orphanage he had to grow up in. due to that, you don't really like to bring it up unless he does because you don't want to upset him. so when he actually brings up the idea of being ready to start a family, you're a bit surprised, double checking that he was sure of his decision. he would answer by holding both of your hands while looking deep in your eyes, a soft smile adorning his face, cheeks slightly red, saying yes. you would return his smile, leaning up to give him a sweet kiss on the lips.

man, would he be a doting partner during your pregnancy. he's already protective enough but it doubles once you two find out you're pregnant. he doesn't really like to keep you out of his sights but he knows he can't always be with you given his busy work schedule so he usually asks Sigewinnie, Neuvillette, Clorinde, people he trusts to watch you if he cant. he'd also get his employees to make trips for you, getting you food when you have specific cravings, anything you need, he'll have them get it for you so you can relax. you'd probably get annoyed of him due to your hormones because he teases you and is sarcastic most of the time with you, but he'll try to hold it back a bit no promise tho.

he would say he'd be fine with either a boy or a girl (but secretly he'd really want a girl because he looks like a 'daddy's girl' dad who'd spoil his daughter especially since he has experience with Sigewinnie being his nonbiological daughter)

now lets get to the spiciness😈 hoo boy is this man horny. after you two started trying for a baby, he'd take you every second he can. you would be spending a lot of time in his office. after he fills you up, you'd stay in his lap, keeping his cock inside you to make sure his seed takes while he does some paper work. once youre finally pregnant, he still pounces on you because you just look so sexy to him, with your beautiful, round belly and your pretty, plump tits. he'd give you massages often just to pamper you and help relieve the stress and pressure of carrying his child but its also sorta an excuse to grope your body. he cant help himself🥺 but its okay cuz you want his touch too. when you go to him, cutely asking him to fuck you cuz your hormones are going out of wack, how could he say no to his pretty little baby mama.

here's a little drabble~ warning smut below😉

You moan as Wrio sucks on your sensitive nipples, grinding against you as his cock fills you up. You come for the nth time that night. He chuckles. "Someone's extra sensitive tonight. Does my mouth and cock just feel that good to you?" You pout and glare at him. "Wrio, stop teasing." He laughs. "I cant help it when you look so cute like that on my cock." He says as he gives you deep thrusts, causing you to tighten around him. He continues, picking up the pace to where hes pounding into you, edging you closer to your next orgasm. He rubs circles on your clit, adding pressure. You scream as you squirt around his cock, covering his abs and thighs in your juices. Once you come down from your high, he pulls out and lays you on your side. He lays himself behind you as he wraps his arms around you. Holding you close, he gently rubs your belly while leaving kisses on your shoulder. Putting your hands over his, you rub your thumb on the back of his hand. He snuggles into you, nuzzling into your neck. While trying to get into a more comfortable position, you lean back into him, accidentally grinding your ass against his cock, causing him to hiss. "Are you tempting me on purpose?" "It was an accident you horny dog." He laughs while one of his hands on your belly moves down between your legs while he kisses and nibbles the sweet spot on your neck. You moan, getting excited again. "I see that I'm not the only one who's horny," he teases as he feels the wetness forming between your legs. "Just put your cock in already Wrio." "As you wish." Removing his hand, he uses it to hold your leg up then slowly guides his cock into you. The fullness of his warm, thick cock feels nice in your sensitive cunt, making you want to cum again already. "We'll go as long as you want. I'll make you cum as many times as you want my dear." What a doting lover.

i hope this feeds you anon. enjoy🥰❤️

#wriothesley #wriothesley headcanons #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley smut #wriothesley fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact smut

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compact-turtle · 6 months

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How would all three yans react to having children? Good or bad?

This is actually such a fun prompt and ask! Thank you for sending it in. I'd actually love to write a full post sometime instead of a small little drabble about this! It'd be so much fun imaging one of their daily routines and lives with a family.

Atticus:

-Isn't really that interested in kids unless his darling wants them. At first, he'll try to talk his darling out of it. Gives lists of reasons on why he can't be a dad. Eventually, comes around to it if his darling really wants them.

-He's a strict and stoic father. Makes sure the kids go to bed at a certain time, finish their chores and do their homework. The kids have to be punctual.

-Not a fan of extreme harsh punishments at all. No taking away meals, locking in closets or any of the sorts. Especially, hitting if they don't listen. (His parents used to do it to him which has resulted in a traumatized farmer)

-More type of look at the consequences of your actions. You don't do your homework, then you fail your class. You don't collect eggs from the chicken coop, no eggs for breakfast. You don't feed the dogs, look at them go hungry. (The doggies don't actually go hungry since Atticus secretly feeds them, they're just always begging for food)

-Shows he loves them through his actions instead of words. He'll take them special getaway trips, go bird watching, catch bugs, make presents, etc. He wants his kids to know that he loves them despite his strict behavior. He's trying to break the cycle of generational abuse that came from his parents. It's hard ngl but he makes an effort every day to overcome it.

For readers who imagine pregnancy:

-kisses your belly when you're asleep. Reassures the baby that he'll always take care of them. He would never do it when you're awake since he's nervous you'll deem him as less than manly or "strong".

-Does not let you work on the farm at all!! He hires extra farmhands to replace your usual help. Lectures and scolds you when you try to do anything. Don't you know that an accident could happen any time especially somewhere dangerous like this farm??

-Your safety and the baby's safety are top priority at all times.

-Watches films and tv shows about pregnancy and families. He makes sure to remember all the details so he can be the best father just like on the tv!

-No sexy time at all when pregnant! He's afraid it'll injure the baby. Only complies when his darling coaxes him into it but even then, it took a while.

Orion:

-Hella yea. The only one who's willing to jump on board and be excited for them. Takes the kids out on daily foraging and exploration nearby the home. Teaches them how to jot down information.

-Shows them his notes on all different types of plants, creatures and landscapes. Tells them which things to avoid and how to survive if in contact with dangerous creatures.

-Kids grow an immunity to his terrible cooking. Actually, enjoy it and treat is as an odd delicacy to be savored.

-The children are taught both languages. Darling's for communicating with other members of the species but his in case they need to talk, and others are listening in.

-Reminds the kids how much he adores them and their mother every day. Tells them tales about his home world and adventures with their mother.

-However, his favorite story to tell is about how their mother heroically saved him from death and starvation. Sometimes he embellishes details like

"Oh, your mother also fell in love at first sight with me. They were just too shy to admit it, but I could tell."

-The real question though, are human species able to get darling's species pregnant???

For readers who imagine pregnancy:

-Does darling get pregnant like a human? Orion will have to find out. However, I imagine the way of getting pregnant to be similar, but they don't give birth. Instead, an egg like thing forms within their reproductive system and they push out something similar to an egg.

-The egg would hatch within two months after growing to full term.

-Orion has built a nest for the egg and watches it every night. Proudly tells the egg about all the adventures they'll go on as family.

-Darling insists that Orion doesn't need to baby the egg since the shell is quite strong. Still, he doesn't listen and frets over any small movement from it. Makes little hats and scarves and dresses the egg in it.

-Orion makes sure to take so many notes during this period. What color is the egg? How long before it hatches? How many times does it move in an hour?

-He takes notes in case darling and him decide to have another egg baby. He'll be more prepared second round.

-Enjoys setting the mood up for some sexy time. He feeds you the right food, sets up the small hut just right and everything. Ofc he'll makes sure to cover the baby egg with a blanket. He doesn't want your baby egg to see anything inapposite after all.

Ivar:

-He'd want to wait a few years into marriage. The idea of kids is daunting. He's seen the worse of man and how destructive the world can be. Really nervous about letting kids out into that type of environment. Still, he does desire a family that you'll raise together.

-He's a fun goofy dad. Takes all the stress of the kids when he arrives home. Plays with them, teases them and drains all their energy so you can relax. I'd imagine that Ivar insists that you be a stay-at-home mom while he goes to work.

-Listens to his kid's problems from boyfriend issues to " I can't believe they cancelled my show". Actively enjoys listening to his kids talk about anything and everything.

-Signs his kids up for self-defense classes. He's aware that there's so many dangers in the world and he can't always be there to help. They've got to be prepared for anything that could happen.

-Supports his kids in all their activities. Shows up to every single game, recital, spelling bee, etc. Whatever it maybe, he'll be there. Wants them to know he cares about them and their interests.

-Doesn't really enjoy mentioning stories from his time at war to them. He's afraid it'll corrupt their world view and he want them to live a peaceful life :(

For readers who imagine pregancy:

-Ivar reads up on all those mom-blogs and pregnancy books. Puts headphones on your belly so your baby can listen to Mozart. Does it actually do anything? Idk the mom blog says it stimulates baby growth or something like that.

-You have a strong craving at 1 in the morning? He's on the case to get it for you. If he can't find it any stores, then he'll drive over to the next few towns to get it. He's so determined to find it.

-loves decorating the baby's nursery. He'll put up decorations and different decals for the baby. Also enjoys building things for it such as dresser and the crib.

-Also doesn't let you by yourself. You want to talk a walk around the neighborhood by yourself? Nope. He's right there holding your hand or pushing you in a wheelchair.

-loves to initiate sexy time with you. During his mom blog reading, he read that it was a great past time while pregnant. Plus, he loves you no matter what you look like even if you're insecure about your changing body.

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farfromstrange · 1 year

Text

Daddy Issues | Matt Murdock x Reader

Masterlist

Inspired by this song.

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: There are some scars from our childhoods that just won't heal, like daddy issues will somehow always affect our relationships, especially with men. It's the trauma that makes us afraid. Matt Murdock is a considerate boyfriend and he hardly ever raises his voice, so when he lets his anger out on you, he triggers something in you that you have never told him about.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of child abuse, daddy issues (not the sexy kind), childhood trauma, yelling, crying, small injury (reader cuts her finger), not proofread

A/n: This is entirely self-indulgent. I won't tell you why exactly, but let's just say today was not a good day and I needed to write this to feel better. It helped, for the most part. If you have/had a father who yells a lot and likes to blame you for everything, this is for you. But also basically everyone who's afraid of men yelling at you because you've been traumatized before. This has not been proofread or beta-d. It’s just a silly little comfort fic.

Tags: (people who answered the original idea and I think would enjoy this or asked to be tagged)

@igotanidea @lina-mar @redzie02 @hellskitchens-whore

[not my gif, credits to the owner mentioned under the gif]

In the heat of the moment, some people raise their voices. May it be a fight or a moment of excitement. When we get angry, we often resort to a louder volume and sometimes even verbal abuse. We say things we don’t mean. We wouldn’t be human if that didn’t happen sometimes, although most fights can be resolved by talking civilly. There is no point in screaming when talking like adults is a viable option that won’t hurt anyone. But it hardly ever happens, not when both parties are already worked up to the point of no return.

For you, there has not been a fight or discussion in your life that hasn’t resulted in a screaming match. Your parents often yelled at each other. You grew up like this, the voices of your fighting parents constantly in the back of your head until the day they divorced. And even after that, you figure you started hallucinating their fights whenever the world went quiet around you so you would have some noise in the back of your head.

Your father was the one who screamed the most. He yelled and scolded you whenever you didn’t act according to his standards or made even the smallest of mistakes, didn’t do something or just used the wrong tone with him, something that often didn’t sit right with him.

He always resorted to screaming. The context never really mattered, he just got louder, harsher and he used words that would confuse every kid and make their tiny brains overflow with the guilt they caused. And when you cried, he only waved it off because “there is no reason to cry, I’m just stating the facts”.

It traumatized you in a way many children who grew up in such families understand, and he made you believe that every man in your life has a reason to yell at you, to use you, to abuse you and constantly ask you for things even though you can’t possibly match up to all of their expectations.

You always expect to be yelled at by the men in your life. Even the smallest hint of the disappointment in someone’s voice makes you anxious and more often than not, you start to cry. It’s your defense mechanism. You’re fragile and you get scared easily. A switch gets flicked and you’re suddenly standing in the same house you grew up in, letting your father rain hell down on you because you were too scared to fight back.

The constant screaming made you scared of men, and it made you more careful with what you say or do around others. You tread carefully. You try to please and not to screw up too much, too scared of the consequences and possible negative reactions. In school, you used to do the same, always wanting to please the teachers and when they raised their voices, you often excused yourself and were left shaking and crying in the bathroom.

Matt Murdock has always been a man with a heavy internal conflict, and that conflict resulted in anger issues and his ever-present catholic guilt. When you met him, he came across as attractive yet dominant, and that scared you a little until you talked for the first time in the middle of a cozy coffee shop and he showed how soft of a man he actually is. He keeps himself locked away and that might make him seem unapproachable, but he isn’t. He’s the kindest man you have ever met, and his heart is set right. Out of all the lovers you’ve had, he is truly the best and most considerate when it comes to your relationship.

He treats you like you’re the universe to him and when you fight, it’s more often bickering than it is an exchange of vulgarities and screams. He takes his anger out on punching bags, not you, and when he hurts someone, it’s often criminals who deserve his wrath. His life is complicated, but it’s easier with you in it. He feels alive, he’s told you, and he wouldn’t trade that for the world, so he always makes sure you’re taken care of and happy before he looks after himself.

There is, of course, the issue with his enhanced senses. He’s blind but his senses are enhanced to an extent that most blind people don’t have. You found out about that early on in your relationship, but there’s never been a doubt in your mind about the love you feel for him, so it was no hard choice to stay.

Though dating the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen comes with its collection of issues. More often than not you have to stitch him up or search him in dark alleys and trash cans because he keeps getting in trouble, and the worry often eats you alive. Still, you comfort him when he’s had a bad day, always, and you make him the spotlight of your life every time. In your mind, taking care of him comes first.

But Matt always gives back. It’s his Catholicism, you’re sure of that. He can’t take help. He has to be the one doing the work and moving mountains. He is God’s disciple and he feels responsible for his city and the people living in it. His blindness feels like a gift given to him by God to conquer all possible battles, and while you don’t really believe in God, you have accepted that part of him with open arms and more often than not join him in his faith because life with him is surely not the easiest.

When Matt Murdock feels overwhelmed, he tries not to show it. He’d rather lock himself away than burden you. He’d rather struggle on his own than put the people he loves in danger or hurt them with his personal struggles and the pain that consumes him.

Matt is patient and he doesn’t care if you screw up, even though you apologize profusely most of the time. He’s patient because we’re all human. We all screw up. That is the principle that he lives by and he makes you feel like you can be more of yourself around him. So after a year, there are no more reservations and you feel a lot more comfortable in your skin.

Until this day, he had never let his anger out on you, and he had never opened his mouth to yell at you in any way. Until that day.

He’s different when he comes home. He finds himself at his wit's end, and he has been ever since that godforsaken murder trial started. When he comes home, you don’t think much of his distance toward you, the denial of a proper kiss, and his grunts as he lowers himself on the couch instead of asking you about your day. You don’t think much until it all goes wrong, and you’re not even sure at what point it does or what you did to deserve this, but there has to be a reason because the man you’re seeing right now is not the Matt you usually get to see.

We all have bad days sometimes, others more often, but this seems deeper than just a bad day at the courthouse. This is not the face of an exhausted man after a long work day that just needs some kisses and maybe a blowjob, or to have sex with his girlfriend in all his dominant glory with aftercare to put the cherry on top. This is not Matt Murdock, this is the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen that comes through the front door, tosses his cane into a corner, and then just falls on the couch like a wet sack of potatoes, his fists clenched as if he is ready to explode any second.

You’ve been taught to tread carefully, so you do. You approach him only slowly because you are worried, you always are. Perhaps it’s the line of questioning that has him exploding in no time.

“You okay?” you ask.

He props his feet up on the living room table and huffs. “Fine,” he says.

“You don’t look fine. Did something happen?”

You’ve brought him a glass of water, which he takes with a curt nod. Something is bothering him, but he won’t talk to you.

“Bad day at work?”

“It doesn’t matter now. I’m fine. I just want to forget that today ever happened.”

“You want some coffee?” you decide to ask instead.

“No,” he says.

His leg starts to bounce. It only does when he is agitated or overstimulated and is trying to deal with the world around him.

“Do you want me to run you a bath?”

He sighs. “No.”

“We still have leftovers, maybe I could warm them up.”

His tone is harsher this time, “No!”

You blink, a little taken aback by the force in his voice and involuntarily, you start to shake.

“I just want to be alone,” he adds, softer this time. “Can you… you know what, I’m just gonna get changed.”

And like that, he is gone. He disappears into the bedroom and you’re left flabbergasted. You want to ask what’s wrong, but you’re scared. You’ve never been scared of him before. It’s not him, it’s his reaction, and so you retreat into the kitchen.

Eventually, he comes out again, though he is still missing a shirt. “Have you seen my Columbia sweater?” he asks, the lights of the billboard reflecting off his marble skin.

“It’s in the washer,” you tell him.

“Why?”

“Because it’s dirty. Matt, what is going on?” You place your mug down and look at him, eyes soft and full of concern.

He only rolls his. “I just want my sweater.” Grabbing the used shirt from the chair at the dinner table, he slips it on. It’s not the fabric he wanted and he tenses up, hating the new sensation already.

“Are you sure this is about your sweater? You’ve been on me ever since you got in.”

“Yes, because you keep asking useless questions.”

“Useless?” You scoff. “So my interest and worry for you are useless?”

If there is one thing you have gotten good at it has to be defending yourself.

He brushes past you to get a beer from the fridge. “I told you, I’m fine.” He is good at brushing you off because he doesn’t like to admit when he feels weaker than usual.

“You don’t look fine.”

“Oh, my God, then stop fucking looking!”

“Okay, what the hell is your problem?”

He scoffs. “You don’t get it.”

“What don’t I get?”

“Everything.”

“Enlighten me then.”

“It’s not…” his chuckle is bitter. “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter. You’re gonna keep seeing problems where there are none, so talking to you makes no sense anyway.”

What did he just say? You are so confused and suddenly very angry that you forget you are holding a glass. You smash it down on the counter, and, as expected, it shatters into a million pieces. Most of them fall to the floor and right at his bare feet. His eyes darken.

Oh.

Now you are scared, and not in a way that resembles sexy foreplay. You are scared because he is turning into a stranger right before your eyes. Suddenly, all you can see is not your loving boyfriend Matt Murdock, you see the anger of both your father and your stepfather in his eyes and hear it in his voice and it instantly tells you, 'this is all your fault'.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble. “I didn’t see…”

“One night,” he says. He moves out of the kitchen, trying not to step into the glass.

You follow him with wide eyes. “What’s that?”

“One night,” he repeats his earlier statement. “That’s all I wanted. One fucking night where people don’t prod or- or want things from me. And what do you do? You keep talking and talking, and you don’t even care that I simply don’t want to talk.”

“Matt, that is not fair. I just wanted to-“ the tears start to prick in your eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Jesus Christ.” And that’s where your strength stops and you retreat into your shell – the next words out of his mouth come so loud, you could have sworn they echoed off the brick walls and shot straight into your eardrums. “For once in your life, stop fucking apologizing!”

His hand lifts, mostly to underline his words, and with the bottle in his hand he is suddenly so close, your eyes squeeze shut at the gush of wind. You flinch, your entire body caving in on itself. It’s not even intentional, you can’t help it. You’ve been conditioned to expect the worst when someone raises their hand, and Matt has never done it before.

He realizes what it looks like the second your heart jumps and your blood rushes loudly in his ear. He can smell your sweat, the tears, and the fear that surrounds you. It’s your pheromones that change and something lingers in the air that makes him stop and think, what did I just do?

He has been so in his head and the city has been loud for hours, he lost most of his patience at the courthouse, and then you’re there all caring and lovely and he can’t help but tell himself he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve you. He just wants quiet and to be alone while at the same time, all he wants is you, but it’s too much. It’s all too much.

And now, as you flinch away from him and his booming voice, he snaps back to reality and realizes he made a mistake. He’s never experienced you like this before, and it scares him.

“Did you just…” he begins, his voice soft and barely above a whisper.

He hears you fall to your knees, the taste of salt thick in the air and your breath shakes with every intake. You bite your lip and you collect the shards, trying to clean up your mess as if he would hate you if you didn’t. You whisper a silent, “Sorry.” And then he hears it. You’re sobbing, you try not to but you are, and it is his fault.

“Did you think I was gonna hit you?” he asks, dreading the answer.

You sniffle, not answering.

You flinched, he heard it, and not because you were surprised. You are scared, he knows.

He slowly approaches the kitchen. “Sweetheart, talk to me.”

“I just gotta clean this up,” you whimper and you brush the glass together with shaky hands. The tears are running down your cheeks in thick streams and your teeth have gnawed your bottom lip bloody, your throat dry with the denied sobs.

“I just gotta clean this up and then I can make you dinner or something. I don’t… I can fix this. I’ll fix this. I’m sorry.”

It’s your fault, you tell yourself. You pushed him. You deserve this. He worked hard the entire day and you annoyed him. He has every right to do this. In your head, at least. It makes all sense in your head while in reality, Matt has never been more shocked to read your body language than he is now.

He slowly kneels in front of you. “Answer me this,” he says, “did you flinch because you thought I was gonna hit you or because I yelled?”

You shrug, unable to look at him. One of the shards slides across your finger and you hiss, the smallest cut forming and causing blood to pool out of your skin. Still, you don’t stop. You need to clean this up before he gets even angrier at you. In your state, you don’t realize his voice has softened and he no longer stares at you with those blacked-out eyes. He looks sympathetic, almost, but most of all the guilt has spread throughout his features and his heart. He is aching to touch you, but you are scared and shaking and he doesn’t want to hurt you any further than he already has.

He had been so ignorant that he didn’t see the signs before.

“Why are you crying?” he asks again.

You wipe your cheeks. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push you. It’s my fault,” you say. “I’ll clean this up, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

“Hey.”

“No, I gotta-”

“Stop.” His hand is on your arm then. “You cut yourself.”

“I’m sorry,” it’s a mantra you’ve taught yourself to say in the hopes you could somehow fix this before it’s too late.

But it’s not too late. When you finally look up, he’s smiling softly, and his thumb is stroking over your skin in circles.

“I’m sorry,” it’s his turn to say it. “I didn’t mean to yell at you. None of this is your fault. I was so caught up in my own shit, I… God, I would never hit you. I just- I didn’t think when I raised my hand. I didn’t think what it might look like to you. And I didn’t think when I yelled because I… in my head, I wasn’t thinking.”

Your facade cracks even more to the point you are seethrough and your defenses have fallen completely. You’re a snotty mess, shaking violently in his grasp.

“I’m trying, I swear I’m trying to be better. Just don’t be angry with me,” your voice is bordering on helpless little sobs, your lips turned downward and God, you are shaking so badly, you haven’t done so since the last fight with your father when you were a teenager.

Matt’s face softens even more, but there is a pain in there too. He takes a paper towel to wrap around your injured finger and he holds your hand, not sure if he is allowed to touch anywhere else, but he wants you to know he is here and he is going nowhere. He is neither mad nor is he going to break up with you. You try to tell yourself that, but it’s hard with the demon in your head whispering all those awful things into your ear, reminding you that everything bad that happens can only be your fault and that there is no use for you but to destroy and disappoint. But you don’t want to disappoint, you want him to be proud of you. You want him to hold you and tell you everything is alright. But you’re scared and you feel so stupidly guilty for something you can’t even put a finger on. Your bleeding finger.

“Angry with you?” he says. “No.” Matt chuckles, but it’s broken and almost whiny as he does so. “I’m not angry at you, bug. Of course not. I was just angry with the world. I was angry at everything else, but not you. I’m not angry at you. I couldn’t possibly be. I’m sorry, it wasn’t fair of me to take it out on you. I realize that now. And the glass…” he forces you away from the chaos gently, helping you stand up without hurting yourself further. “It’s just glass,” he tells you. “I’ll clean it up. There’s nothing bad about breaking something.”

“But the mess,” you say.

“Fuck the mess. The whole apartment’s a mess.”

“I’m so sorry! I can clean it. I can clean up, I promise. I just… I’m so sorry, Matt.”

“Stop apologizing, baby, please. The mess doesn’t matter. The apartment doesn’t matter, and the glass does not fucking matter. None of this is your fault. You didn’t do anything but try to help. I had no right to yell at you. And my hand… I would never hit you. Never.” He squeezes your hand. “I love you.”

You hiccup, whimpering when he pulls you away from the glass on the floor and pulls you into his arms. His chin rests on the crown of your head and you mold into him, the tears taking on new speed and wetting through his shirt. He strokes your back, not sure what else to do, and his lips find your temple. “God, I’m so sorry,” he whispers. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that, none of that.”

You cling tighter to him.

He keeps asking himself the same question over and over again. “Who hurt you?” he asks. It’s a valid question. A fear like that doesn’t just stem from nothing. Something happened in the past to have traumatized you this badly.

Your breathing eventually slows down, as do your tears, and you look up at him through swollen eyes. His white shirt is wet now, but he doesn’t care, he only hugs you back to his chest. “My father used to yell at me whenever I did something wrong,” you tell him, your voice muffled through his chest, but he understands every word.

His grip tightens. “Did he hit you?”

“Sometimes, but… I remember that one time I forgot to clean up after myself and he just… he…” The lack of oxygen makes you shudder and you hiccup again, nails digging into his back. “I’m sorry, he just… yelled at me. Sometimes, he’d slap me, but only sometimes. He’d threaten most of the time, but he didn’t do it often. And I mean, I was a hard kid to raise, I-“

“No, don’t blame yourself,” he is quick to cut you off. “You were a kid.”

You shudder again. “Well, I… you know, he blamed me for the smallest of things, so I got used to apologizing and trying to please everyone, but I can’t always do that. I try to fix things, but it doesn’t always work. He used to yell at me every damn time and I just… I get scared. I don’t like it when people raise their voices. It makes me feel so guilty and now I even broke a glass. That’s my fault. I shouldn’t have… you had a bad day, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cry like this. I swear I’m not a baby.”

You move away to rub your eyes. He grabs your face, smoothing the pads of his thumbs over your wet cheeks. The heat has pooled under the skin in an upset blush.

“Don’t apologize,” he says. “It’s okay to cry. If I’d known, baby, I…” Matt can only shake his head in disbelief.

He loves you more than anything and to see you hurting because of something another man did to you, a man who is supposed to protect you, makes him feel all kinds of things, but none of them positive.

But his anger doesn’t matter. This is about you. He has to take care of you now, not himself, and definitely not your father. It’s just you on his mind.

You choke on nothing. “He told me I have no reason to cry because he’s just stating facts.”

Matt clicks his tongue. “No, don’t ever think that again. You have every right to cry when you feel the need to.”

“It makes me weak,” you say.

“Your father’s wrong. You’re the strongest person I know,” he says. “And the fact that he yelled at you and blamed you for things that were out of your control… no one has the right to treat you like that, not even your parents, and he should have never even thought about raising his hand against you. That’s abuse. I can’t believe- fuck! Do you understand that it wasn’t your fault? That he had no right to do that?”

“Yes, but… it happened. Maybe I deserved some of those slaps. I mean you… I- I don’t know. It happened, we can’t change it. And who knows, maybe he was right.”

“Stop it! That’s not true and you know it.”

“I know, but-“

“No buts, sweetheart. I would never raise my hand against you, I promise. I’m not like your father. No one should be like him. You deserve so much better.”

“I know you wouldn’t,” you sniffle, “it was just instinct.”

“Shh,” Matt kisses you gently, “I know. It’s like me dodging punches in a fight. It’s a defense mechanism. Your father, I… you’ve never said anything. I would’ve never suspected this.”

“‘Cause I didn’t think it was important. This never happened before. You never yelled before.”

“Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry. You should have told me,” he says. “It’s important to me. The last thing I wanted was to hurt you. I want you to feel comfortable around me, not scared.”

You nod. “And I am, really, it’s just… I thought I did something wrong.”

His smile is soft when he leans in to kiss you again, tasting the tears on your lips. “You didn’t. I let my anger out on you for no reason. You didn’t deserve that. It won’t happen again, I promise,” and he dives right back in.

You wrap your arms around his neck, relaxing in his arms as his lips move against yours with sweet precision, making you feel lightheaded. He scared you, that much is true, but it was neither you nor his fault and you realize that now, safe in his arms as he proves his devotion to you with a single breath into your mouth. With his gentle touch around your waist he promises never to hurt you, never to let his anger out on you again, and he promises that he will drive himself to hell personally if he ever scares you like that again because he couldn’t forgive himself if anything happened to you because of him. He couldn’t live with himself if he broke your heart or triggered the trauma you brought into the relationship from your broken childhood, and he promises that he will never leave you, never put you second and always hold you when times get hard because people screw up, bad things happen, and you might be at fault sometimes, but so is he and there is no reason to be put down for being human. He wants to teach you that, he wants to help you heal yourself, and you have never felt more in love than at that moment, losing yourself in his lips, eyes and arms.

He breaks the kiss, moving on to your forehead. “If there is anything else I need to know,” he breathes hotly against your already heated skin, and the exhaustion slowly starts to seep into your bones as the shakes and tension subside from your bones, “please tell me before I make another mistake that might trigger you.”

You take in a deep breath, shaking your head. “There is not much else. My childhood wasn’t the best, but that’s okay,” you say.

He brushes his knuckles over your cheekbone. “Bad enough. Promise you’ll tell me if something else might come up?” He resembles a puppy as he tries to meet your eyes, but he fails miserably.

So you promise him, “Okay.”

“Can you forgive me for yelling?”

Your tears have finally come to a halt. “Yes,” you say.

“Thank you.”

Your eyes fall on the mess on the kitchen floor again and you go to grab the broom. Matt’s arm around your frame stop you and he gently pushes you out of the kitchen. “Let me clean it up,” he says. “Put a bandaid on your finger and then go lie down. I’ll deal with it.”

“No, I broke it. Please, Matt, let me do this.”

“Not everything is your fault, sweetheart. Besides, you already cut yourself once and with how you’re shaking, the next time you accidentally cut yourself I’m sure you’re gonna cause more damage.”

“But I-”

“Go to bed,” he insists, “I’ll be there in a second and then we’ll cuddle so you know I’m serious when I say that I love you more than life itself.”

The weight and guilt fall off your heart. “I love you,” you tell him. “More than life itself, too.”

It’s not a lie. If there is anything or anyone you love, it’s him, and you’ve never been this in love with anyone before. It’s sickening to the point it hurts, but the pain is sweet and it’s all worth it because with Matt, you can be yourself.

The past matters just a little less with someone who loves you right by your side, and he would never give up on you like everyone else did before him.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock #daredevil #daredevil x reader #gender neutral reader #matt murdock imagines #marvel #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock angst #mentions of child abuse #hurt/comfort #matt murdock fic #daredevil fic #daddy issues (but not the sexy kind)

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thepepsislvt · 3 months

Text

nobody asked for this but im gonna give you my top 5 baby girls and their pros and cons

in order even bc im insane

this also turned out to be more of a drabbles so yall still getting fed

number 5: Sanji

Pros:

literally such a sweetheart

traumatized just like me

always coming with the best insults

best cuddles cant tell me im wrong

so fucking kind <3

supports my nic addiction

also doesnt smoke around you if you dont like it

Cons:

probably wouldnt even look at me until i show him my tits (im a trans guy)

probably smokes a pack a day

thinks he can out smoke me when im literally a feind for nic

on the off chance he gets in a relationship with me he still would flirt with other women and i have abandonment issues

Number 4: Ace

Pros:

Also very much a sweetheart

hes silly and knows how to always make you laugh

personal heater for the winter

will let you trace his freckles

best kisses ong

make cute little shapes with his flames

Cons:

probably wont let you wear his hat

will fake punch you like a brother

too damn sexy

also way too hot during the summer like do not cuddle me i will not go to sleep in the heat

Number 3: Bartolomeo

Pros:

his hair is green meaning hes gotta be a walking green flag

will let you wear his clothes

especially his jacket

wants to kiss you every chance he can

fanboys over anything

hypes you up for anything you want to do

Cons:

doesnt clean his piercings so you have to force him

doesnt understand personal space

Number 2: Rosinante

Pros:

another man that will let you wear his clothes

theyre gonna be huge since hes 9 foot 7

big friendly giant

when he trips bc hes clumsy he requires your kisses to feel better

will pick you up and carry you around if you let him

lets you help him with his makeup

always makes time for you no matter what hes doing

smile brighter than my future

Cons:

Number 1: Izou

Pros:

bro is damn gorgeous

will ask your opinion on everything when shopping for makeup

will even do your makeup if you want him to

self care king

even when youre not feeling it he will at least help you do the most basic things

very patient with only you

big on protecting you

smooches your forehead or temple a ton

has you help with his nightly routine

Cons:

has you ALWAYS help with his nightly routine

“oh im too tired can you do it yourself tonight?”

“Thats too damn bad my hair needs to shine brighter than the sun”

always looks more stunning than you (when is it my turn buddy >:( )

doing his makeup last over an hour

(this one is personal but i wanna cosplay him so bad but hes so feminine im scared i might get mad dysphoria)

thats all :)

#x reader #one piece x reader #one piece #bartolomeo #bartolomeo the cannibal #bartolomeo x reader #portgas ace x reader #portgas d ace #black leg sanji #sanji #not a vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #donquixote rosinante #rosinante corazon x reader #rosinante x reader #corazon x reader #izou one piece #izou x reader

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pedrithink · 1 year

Note

pedri and y/n doing the tiktok trend where they tell each other their icks 🫶

icks ✩ pedri gonzález

summary: you do the "icks about eachother" trend with pedri.

requested: yes/no

“So…today we are going to talk our icks about eachother." You put the phone in a way that you and Pedri appear on the screen. "Who goes first?"

"I'll go first." Pedri takes out his notebook and speaks seriously. "When you speak in a baby voice."

You widen your eyes and point accusingly at him. "You do that too."

He makes a derisive look and shakes his head in denial at the camera. "Too much." He nudges your waist. "Go ahead, say yours."

"When you make fun of my eyebrow after I've had my henna done." You say, turning to face him, and Pedri holds back a laugh. "It hurts my feelings." You can't hold your laughter after looking at him.

"Okay, second…" You open your mouth pretending to be disappointed by his lack of reaction and interrupt, "Hey, we're still on this. It hurts my feelings."

He turns to you again and speaks with an arched eyebrow. "When you talk like a baby, it gets annoying sometimes."

"Okay, live with it." Pedri lets out a broken laugh and shakes his shoulders. "Okay, live with my chirping then."

"Oh my God, I hate you so much. Tell the second one." You close your face jokingly and he leaves a kiss on your shoulder before continuing.

Pedri straightens his posture. "Doesn't have an inside voice at the gym, I'm trying to help her and I'll everybody starts staring at me in the gym after hearing 'fuck off, Pedri.'" He says with an expression of false anger and you let out a loud laugh after remembering this event.

"It was a one time thing." You try to defend yourself and he raises his arms to express his indignation.

"And it only took one to traumatize me."

You jokingly push him away. "OH MY GOD, this is such a big one." You turn to say it looking into his eyes. "When you call me 'mami' when it's not sexy time." He starts to laugh and you continue, "That's not okay, it's gross." You point to the camera. "It's a turn off."

"Shut up, you literally like it." He tries to defend himself. "Everything I do is a turn off to you." The indignant tone of his voice and the way he rolls his eyes, you can only laugh at the situation. "Anyways, when you tell a story and it's not right."

You open your mouth indignantly and look at the camera while denying with your head. "Like she will literally tell a story like it happened and I'm like that's not how it went." He says as he waves his hands. "Like, that's so annoying. Tell how it is like."

You grimace at the camera. "My 3rd point, he's not mature." You say it with the intention of teasing him and smile when you see his surprised reaction. "I'm 1 year younger than him and I'm more mature than him." You say with a pout. "He acts like he's 5 years old."

He looks at you and lets an indignant laugh escape his lips. "My 3rd point, she always thinks I'm mad at her and that's annoying as fuck." He says this while facing the camera and you let a light slap on his head. "My 4th point…"

You interrupt him and face him with a shocked expression. "What? This is the other thing." You turn to the camera again. "How is he…he literally just got the notebook and just started writing." You make an expression of writing. "I'm sitting there for 20 minutes trying to figure it out. I only have 4 points down and you're going to the 5th." He turns his notebook to the screen to show that there are actually six and makes a fond face while you get even more indignant. "Like, mine are nice. My 4th one is 'you say sorry for no reason'. Like that's so nice and you're over here ripping me up."

You say all this with an angry expression and he stares at you, holding his laughter. "This is why I told you I didn't wanna make the tiktok because now you're gonna be all mad and upset."

"I'm going to break up with him." You point your thumb at him and say it with a serious expression.

Pedri just grabs you and kisses your cheek, "I love you even with all those flaws." He says it in a funny tone of voice.

"I love you too, idiot." You leave a kiss on his mouth and turn to the camera again. "Now you're going to go without sex for a month to see if you can stop fooling around."

Pedri shuts his mouth immediately and stares at you with his expression extremely shocked. "Love, we don't joke about sex."

"Who says I'm joking?" You turn to him with your most serious expression and control yourself not to laugh at his desperate face.

"I'm never recording Tiktok with you again.' He stands up abruptly and walks out of the video with his arms crossed and a frown on his face.

#football imagine #football one shot #football fanfic #football x reader #pedri x you #pedri x reader #pedri imagine #pedri one shot #pedri #pedri fluff #pedri gonzalez

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most-datable-datable-bracket · 1 month

Text

ROUND 4 MATCH 4

Dorian propaganda:

“Hot gay mage with traumatic homophobic parents thay disowned him so he ran away and yet he is still trying to do his best for his people. Also he knows he is hot stuff and flirts with everyone even when he isn't interested in female characters.”

Gale propaganda:

“He is my cringe malewife I love him <3”

“Listen. Some may dunk on him for eating all of your magic artifacts (he only eats three!!) and others may dislike him for various bugs in his romance. But man oh man does this guy take devotion to the next level. He is such a romantic. Says the line "Whether I condemn this world or not, I choose you." after you successfully convince him to disobey his goddess who is also his ex girlfriend. He's a bit hungry for power, but in like, a sexy way, where he wants to get it to elevate you both to Godhood. And if you tell him that you want him for the man he is and not the God he aspires to be, he abandons that search for power and proposes. You can have wizard sex with him in the sky. His "rebellious streak" consists of staying up late reading and summoning a cat when his parents told him he couldn't have one, and also the aforementioned pursuit of godlike powers. What an absolute catch. He's always saying dramatic stuff in battle, but if you have him sneak around, he starts complaining like a grumpy old man. He's extra attracted to you when you're in battle. He has a bomb in his chest. And it is a very nice chest. Anyway. Boyfriend material.”

“This man is so sweet and idealistic. He wants everything about your romance to go perfectly like a fairy tale but that isn't really possible in apocalyptic settings, so he will use magic to help you forget your surroundings when trying to be intimate to get as close as he can to perfect because he wants you to have the best. He is also attracted to literally all of your character and gets really turned on when you are musky and covered in blood after a battle. Just love my nerdy awkward horny romantic wizard.”

#dorian pavus #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #Baldur's Gate 3 #BG3 #Round 4 #MDDC 2

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atzfilm · 2 months

Text

— from eden; (m) part one

there's something wretched about this. something so precious about this, oh what a sin

— yeosang/f.reader, seonghwa/f.reader

— vampire!au, angst, smut (15.3k)

— you never thought you'd fall for your best friend. and yet there you were, stumbling upon him in a lover's embrace. heartbroken, you escape to a quiet bar not far from where you work. a man with a pretty mark on his face distracts you.

— content; mxm content, cussing, blood, blood drinking (it's painful, not sexy 😭) heartache, injuries, anxiety, death, violence, slightly descriptive murder (?), attempted assault (nothing happens aside from brief arm touch), insults, smut: unprotected sex, mention of threesome

part two (finale)

you never lived in the moment, never think about how the rain falls, how the streetlights seemingly has an otherworldly feeling to them. you're sure that many of us never do; so deeply involved in our own lives that we never second guess, never take a pause to truly see our surroundings. to hold in a breath and just take that second to stand, to look. you were one of them, until you met him. he's ordinary in every sense of the word. quiet, calm, brown eyes soft in their gaze, lips plush, reddening around the spot he bites into. he is so irrevocably ordinary that it makes no sense as to why you feel like this. park seonghwa should not be making you feel like this.

you sit on the opposite bench from said man, coffee lukewarm as you grip the reusable plastic, desperately trying to look anywhere but directly in front of you. should you feel this way? he's always been the one man you can count on, the one man who never hesitated to help. kindness seemed to flow through his skin as if it was his own blood. he's the opposite of you, the person you've desired to be. your lips tremble as you take in another exaggerated amount of air, eyes glued to the way his pen glides along the paper, glasses resting on the tip of his nose. you can remember the day you joined him on his exam; his eyes wide in shock when the optometrist told him his sight was worse than yours. oh how you wish you can turn back time, forget everything after that moment. somehow change things.

there are often times that you wish that you did not feel the way you felt. that your friend of four years did not make your chest ache so painfully. you hated liking someone, hated the dread, the anxiety that filled your body in every little interaction. you cross your legs, pulling a stray strand from tickling your cheek. your heartbeat fills your ears, your mouth dry.

maybe if you were able to turn back the clock – never stumbling upon him in that bathroom with san, lips pressed together, arms in a tight embrace. maybe if you were not insistent on checking up on him, things would be different. you would still only look at him as your best friend.

"surprised you haven't run over to him," your other friend slides next to you, his own coffee up to his lips. his headphones are his scarf, pale cheeks coated with a light blush. he wiggles his brows, nudging your shoulder as he continues. "traumatized just like the rest of us?"

"how so?" your brow lifts, finally shifting to him. "something new happened?"

"much of the same. san fucks another coworker, it spreads. seonghwa seems to be the victim this time, though. a bit sad, you know. he really thought they had something."

another thing you've forgotten. seonghwa told you of his own crush. choi san. everyone knows how he is, the endless list of conquests not ending anytime soon. you've warned him that san never took things like this seriously, but he refused to listen to you. insisted that it would be different. that he himself is different from the rest. there was no jealousy behind your intentions until you saw it in action. san making eye contact with you. the smirk crossing his lips. it's just something you can't get out of your head.

"i haven't spoken about it with him yet," you admit, sighing. "i should have already, it's just been so busy and–"

"and he needs his best friend," hongjoong lifts his cup, gesturing to him. "he has been knee deep in that project, distracting himself. it's been days already."

you want to say you know, but it'll only make matters worse. you aren't sure what san said to seonghwa, if he ever told him of your presence just on the other side of the door. and it scares you that he might have. there was no hiding the look you gave the two of them no matter how much you tried to hide it. envy? jealously? bitterness? in the end they are all one in the same.

"i'll talk to him."

—

you didn't. hands folded in your head in the staff library, staring at the endless shelves, a pout on your lips. you are not short by any means, but the shelves are high enough to touch the ceilings. and the one book you need rests at the very top. your eyes shift to the ladder next to you, immediately tensing. climbing up over eight feet is not on your agenda (and in fact, never was), so here you stand. anger rising.

"you could have called me."

seonghwa stands there in all his glory – black turtleneck tucked into his pressed slacks, familiar black boots covering his feet, pretty round glasses resting on top of his head. how have you not noticed how effortlessly handsome he was before? he tilts his head at you, a small smile on his lips.

"we've been over this plenty of times. can't read into that big mind of yours. gotta say it out loud." he slides the ladder as you step back, slowly ascending to the shelf you need. you don't even tell him which book it is that you want, his long fingers delicately plucking it off the shelf.

"you’ve been so involved with the project i didn't want to interrupt because of my fear," you frown. "if hongjoong or mingi came around i would've asked them."

"mingi?" he snorts. "he's as afraid of heights as you, maybe more."

"you are too and yet here you are," you gesture to him as he makes his way down. "my knight in shining armor, always."

"it's my job when it comes to you, pretty," he laughs, finally back on the floor. he's always called you pretty, but with your growing feelings it only makes you sink further into regret.

just as he's about to pass the book back to you he stops, smile slowly fading. "you think i haven't noticed your lack of appearance, birdie? it's been over a week and you've barely texted me. your hourly knocks on my office door haven't happened, at all."

this isn't the way you wanted to do this. in all honesty you didn't even mean to avoid him, but your fear of how you feel is getting to you. especially as he stands here now, worry in his eyes as he waits for you to say something. anything.

"i’m sorry about san."

his hold on the book tightens, brows furrowed. "birdie–"

"i know you're going to say that i don't need to worry or that you'll be fine. and i know i messed up not speaking about it with you until now when i know how you felt about your relationship. i've been a horrible friend, hwa. and that feeling grew inside of me to the point where i was scared to speak to you."

seonghwa looks at you, eyes flicking between yours. he swallows slowly, tucking the book beneath his arm. without another word he takes your hand, pulling you through the stacks of books, weaving in and out the rows. you see plenty of people on your way with him. if they find it strange they don't say a word about it. he opens the balcony door, guiding you through. the wind blows past the two of you, bumps rising on your arm.

the two of you often ventured out here. away from prying eyes. away from lingering gazes. some nights you would stand next to each other and let your hearts speak untainted words. after this conversation surfaces, you're not too sure how this place would be comforting anymore. seonghwa stops pacing after a moment, eyes meeting yours.

"san told me."

"what did he say?" you ask softly. you know. it would be foolish for you not to.

"y/n," seonghwa sighs. "he told me."

no.

"i mean, i just thought it was nothing. i thought you were freaked out seeing us like that but–"

no. no.

"–maybe it's more than that? is it more than that, birdie?" he stops pacing, looking to you. "am i more than that to you?"

the hollowness of your chest grows as he stands there, putting the pieces together. it was fine, everything was fine. you were okay with feeling this way for him. everything was supposed to be okay. should you lie? will it make him stop?

"i know what you're thinking. and don't," he holds up his hand, shaking his head. "don't you dare lie to me."

"we've been best friends since we were kids, hwa."

"don't do that to me." His voice cracks at the end. "please."

"san is just talking, trying to mend things over between the two of you. there's nothing more to it."

he shakes his head, "we always tell each other the truth, so i can tell when you're lying."

"we can't do this, hwa." you're not sure if he can hear your words over the wind. "i don't want to do this with you."

"so we just pretend it's nothing? i pretend that you don't like me more than a friend and you pretend that you never saw san fucking me? is that it? your bright solution?"

you hate this. it's becoming more tainted.

"seonghwa, please–"

"no," his voice rises, and he stops, tongue dragging across his lips. his words are calmer this time. "no. i waited over a week for you to come to me and say something but you didn't say a word. and i thought that you were just embarrassed, you know? i thought that was it so i decided to come see you myself. but when you looked at me, you were afraid. you looked at me with fear, birdie." the cracks are forming. "and that's when i knew. i knew that despite how much of an asshole choi is, he was not lying when he said that you were probably in love with me. just, please. how long?"

"i don't know."

"y/n–"

"i don't fucking know, seonghwa! i'm not lying. i didn't know until i saw the two of you and..." you look away from him to the city landscape. though you've always felt small, it's never been this apparent. "and i felt it. i felt it, and i didn't know how to react or what to do so i stupidly thought it was best to ignore it. hoped that it would go away."

"love does not just go away, birdie. not like that."

you look back at him, your lips growing drier as the wind gusts hit the two of you. his hands are fists, eyes flicking between yours. love does not just go away. he said that and yet why is he looking at you with everything but?

"push me away," you say. his face finally gives you some sort of emotion. brows furrowed in confusion, lips parted. "you didn't ask for this and neither did i. so tell me to go away. tell me you don't want to be friends with me anymore. tell me to leave."

"birdie–"

"tell me to fucking leave, hwa, or ill do it myself."

"go, then. just, go."

you close your eyes. "okay." there's no reason for you to look back at him, let yourself fall into a deeper hole. so you move past him, ignoring what you believe is a sob escaping his lips. you ignore it despite everything you've been through. you ignore it because you're not sure how you will ever be able to fix this.

sliding back into your chair, you stare at the glass on the marble top. is it your third? fourth? you told the bartender to cut you off at some point, but it all feels like a blur now. you feel a bit of the buzz, but it's still not enough to pull you away from your thoughts.

"you look broken."

"is that the pickup line you're starting with? must be a rough night."

his chuckle is surprisingly low, seeping into your ears. "not quite a pick up line, no. but you look afraid, hurt. not uncommon at bars, but yours looks different."

you still have not turned to him. "how so?"

"it looks like your world was taken away from you."

your eyes flick to him. the soft light of the bar makes his skin glow, eyes on yours. they're a deeper brown, a marking on his temple, fading into his eye. if it is a scar or a birthmark you're not too sure, but it makes his face only more interesting to look at. handsome is an understatement, the curl of his lips, lift of his brow making you look away. devilishly handsome men just seem to never leave you alone. fortunate for him though, your heart is too broken to jump into the bed of another.

so you tell him as such.

"if you're trying to fuck me just give up now. this sad, broken woman isn't going to cry into your arms."

"if i wanted that i would have gone to someone else, miss," he takes a long sip of his drink, humming. "just conversation."

"why?"

"you looked like you needed someone to talk to. but if I'm being presumptuous, tell me, i'll go away."

quiet.

"you're not far off."

"hm?"

"about my world falling apart, being taken away from me. you're not far off. my best friend found out i was in love with him and i told him to get pissed at me and leave. he never did. i was the one who ran. i was the one who ran, and yet here i am. drowning my heartbreak in whatever the fuck this drink is," you eyeball the glass next to you. "a whiskey sour, maybe?"

"you're right."

you hold your face in your hands. "and now i'm confessing my fucking woes to a stranger because i have no one else. everyone i know knows him, so they'd probably tell him what i'm doing, and he'll come over and yell at me for being irresponsible and call a taxi home for me and i'll have to pretend that i don't want him–" you stop in the middle of your rant, glancing to the side.

"i'm sorry."

he waves you off, "never apologize for your feelings. you needed to let it out. who am i to stop you?"

"just a bit shocked you haven't run yet."

he snickers this time, rolling his eyes. "you are quite something. you're pissed that someone might come here and force you back home. and yet you're telling me what to do with my time? a bit ironic."

"i…" you trail off. "fuck, you're right."

"thank you for thinking so," he teases. "and if i can, i'd like to comment on your dilemma. though i doubt the words of a stranger will do much, i hope i can be of some help."

"take it away, stranger."

he gives you a brief smile, before looking at the glass in his hand, thinking. "in my long life, i've had many heartaches and regrets. i've hurt myself as well as others along the process. but what i have learned is that letting your thoughts linger on their own only hurts more. so your choice of telling him was the right thing to do despite how it may have ended. and from what you're saying, he still loves you just the same. he's kind."

"waiting for the advice to kick in," you note, and he only laughs.

"he loves you. he would be a fool not to. there are few men who would do as you say if they didn't. i know this is the opposite of what you want, but speak to him again. he may be at another bar crying over you as you are over him. actually, i’m sure he is."

"he wouldn't cry over–"

"he would," the stranger interrupts, taking another sip. "if you listen to none of my words then listen to this: you are giving yourself no credit. he loves you. if your relationship is as special as you say, he will be crying at the end of the bar, swallowing his sorrows, just as you are now."

you swallow slowly. your mouth feels dry now, the alcoholic drinks somehow making you feel utterly sober. you push the glass further away, taking the last sip of the bottle of water in front of you. the stranger watches as you think.

"i'm not sure i'm ready for that. the confrontation, that is. i'm scared."

"and admitting that is brave in itself," he glances at the drink near you, waving the bartender over. "may i request another bottled water for the lady, and a coke for myself?"

the woman disappears down the bar after hearing the order. "i'm not usually this bad at drinking."

"i can tell. you've tended a few glasses already, love," he thanks the bartender, passing you the water. "it's cold, perhaps it'll wake you up sooner."

"drowning my sorrows, uh…" you blank on his name. "wait, did i just go on a rant without even introducing myself?"

"that you did."

if you could shrivel away into nothingness you would. "y/n. yourself?"

"kang yeosang."

“nice to meet you, kang yeosang,” you smile.

“likewise, y/n.”

“and thank you for the drink. you shouldn’t have.” you take a sip of the water. “i owe you.”

“do you?” he raises his eyebrows, taking a sip of coke. “then i ask only this: take care of yourself, and don’t listen to other strangers’ advice. and,” his eyes glance at the open bottle in front of you, hand moving over the top of the glass as he slides it closer to him. “don’t leave your other drinks out in the open, please.” he takes it away from you, “i saw a man pour something into it while you were gone.”

the buzz washes away at his words, “what?”

“that’s why i came over. he’s been watching you for a while now. i’ve already alerted the bartender, and the police should be here any moment now,” he covers the contaminated drink with a napkin. "I couldn't find the right moment to tell you, so i decided to let you speak while i watched your drinks."

insults at yourself begin to swirl in your head. how could you be so oblivious to it happening right in front of you? yeosang just stumbled upon it on his night out. if he wasn't here… you could only guess what would happen.

"is he still here?" your voice is lower now. body rigged.

yeosang pauses for a moment, before nodding. "yes. but he hasn't approached you since i've been lingering around you."

is it wrong of you to ask for him to stay?

"i won't leave until i know you're safe," he acknowledges the worried look in your eyes, a small smile gracing his lips. "we don't know each other well, but i'll keep my distance. if you don't mind it, of course. this situation is uncomfortable enough. i can leave you–"

"no!" your voice comes out louder than you'd like, your face warming briefly. "no. i want you to stay. if that's okay with you."

he nods. "it is."

the police arrive quickly, yeosang helping them identify and apprehend the suspect. he never leaves your side throughout the whole process, piecing things together that you haven't noticed at all. he keeps the same calm demeanor as before, giving the officers as much information as he can. you're more than grateful for his presence, soothing the long night you've had. eventually though, the police leave with the man.

the quiet air surrounding the bar is a bit unsettling now, knowing what you could have suffered. the two words you've wished to say to him throughout this ordeal are stuck in your throat. is it nerves? maybe. you were just never good with things like this. but still, he saved you. he didn't need to, but he did.

the thought makes the words come easier.

"thank you."

"not necessary," he waves you off easily. "anyone would have done something if they saw."

"but no one saw except for you. so i’m more than grateful. i don't know how to repay you–"

he shakes his head again. "no repayment. nothing. i've settled my thoughts now knowing you're safe. i do want to say something though. it may be overstepping my position as a little more than a stranger, but i do hope you stray away from the alcohol tonight. you're drunk, and it… may bother me a bit, knowing you're here alone."

the words of a stranger shouldn't make your chest float.

"alright."

time passes by fast as yeosang stands with you outside, the two of you watching the perpetrator being placed in handcuffs. though the police asked if you would like to ride with them and you explicitly stated no, yeosang offered to help you to the police station. pressing charges against a stranger on a night like this is the last thing you want to do, but having him attempt to do this to another innocent person would riddle you with guilt. you’re quiet throughout the small diatribe that the officer gives you, that overwhelming feeling again settling within you.

“must she go?” yeosang asks the officer, glancing over at you. “i was the one who witnessed it. there isn’t much for her to say other than she ordered a drink.”

“is that so? then are you willing to come instead?”

“of course. i’ll follow after you.”

the police officer thanks him again before leaving, disappearing into the oddly quiet night. yeosang looks you over, concerned. “would you like me to walk you to the train station?”

“that’s not necessary,” you say quickly. “it’s only a block or so away.”

he nods again. “well, please stay safe. don't,” he pauses, looking away. “don't follow strangers around. you seem to be sober enough, but still.”

“worried?” you ask, a bit cheeky.

“i am.”

there is no teasing in his voice, jaw tightening as he looks at you. conflicting emotions cross his gaze. you're not sure what to think of it yourself.

“you’re a stranger you know.”

he sighs, “i am.”

“can i have your phone number?” you ask. “just to let you know when i'm home safe. so you don't have to worry. and you can give it to the police if they need it.”

his smile is cheeky, the plush of his cheeks lifting. it makes the hard angles of his face softer, eyes rounder. you aren’t one to call men adorable, but there’s no other description you could think of. he digs into his jacket pocket, a sleek black phone appearing in his hands. without a response, he holds it out to you. you quickly type in your number underneath his quiet gaze, texting yourself. once confirming, you hand it back to him.

he stares at it for a moment, then hums. “perfect. don't forget about messaging me, y/n.” he tilts his head slightly, bowing. you do the same back, giving him one last glance before heading to the station. the itch of not looking back irks you, but you do so anyway. unfortunately in those brief seconds, he had already left the front of the bar. hm.

he must walk pretty fast.

–

you don’t message him.

it’s not like you promised the man that you’d do it, it was merely a suggestion. and he has your contact information, he can reach out if he'd like. once you arrived home that night you came to your senses. one - speaking to strangers about your personal problems should be saved for therapy - and two - you should not give said strangers your personal information after trauma dumping. the thought of you crying your heart out to him is embarrassing enough, you’re only glad you were too intoxicated to realize how embarrassing it was. sobriety may be in your future.

you push the cart down the tight aisle, careful not to push it into one of the shelves. you’ve left your job since telling seonghwa. but books have always been a home for you, so it took a bit, but you were able to find another small library placement not too far from your apartment. it didn’t pay as well since your position was based on seniority, but it’s enough for you to be comfortable.

you stop in one aisle, glancing down at the book in your hand before looking ahead. it is just your luck that you see the man of the hour.

he holds an identical copy in his hands, sunglasses tucked in his hair, resting on the top of his head. prescription glasses - this is your assumption - on the brim of his nose as he reads. his blond hair is as alluring as that night, the redness of his birthmark seen behind a few strands. his clothing is lightweight aside from the open brown trench coat; collared cotton button up, pleated pants, white shoes. a simple outfit and yet he stands out amongst the rest. your mind wasn’t making things up - his beauty is beyond what you can comprehend, just like your old best friend’s. hands flip through the book, lips slightly curved as he skims the pages. his soft brown eyes look up from his reading, meeting yours. you hope that he does not remember you, but recognition flashes in his gaze, cheeks lifting as he smiles. he lifts the glasses off his face, slipping them into the lining of his coat.

“it seems that you have gotten home well,” is the first thing that leaves yeosang’s mouth, book shutting. he places it back in its spot.

“i did,” there is no use lying to him that you couldn’t remember. the stillness of your body alone is enough for him to see the guilt hanging around you. “i’m sorry i didn’t let you know.”

“you had no obligation to a stranger,” he shrugs. “it would have been nice, but i didn’t expect much.”

“still, i should have said something,” you step closer to him, placing the book on the shelf. how awful that he smells really good too. sickening, even. “i was too scared to. after that night.”

his brows furrow, “scared? did i do something to upset you? or did someone else bother you?”

“no no,” you say quickly. “scared was a bad word to choose. maybe, embarrassed? i mean, i can’t believe i spilled my guts to a man that sat next to me at a bar on a random night,” you can feel your face warming. “i don’t think i’ll ever live it down.”

he smiles, shaking his head. “i told you it didn’t bother me. and i was glad to be your comfort, stranger or not. are you alright?”

he is still caring, even after you’ve decided not to message him. you nod, holding the book between your sweaty palms, “i am.”

“then all is well,” he steps around you. the wool of his coat brushes against your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. his perfume stuns you for a brief moment, grip tightening on the book. he glances at the shelves, before stepping out the aisle. you cannot help but think this may be your last chance of running into him — you’re not sure what reason you have to keep him around you for a while longer. but you step out the aisle, mouth ready to call out to him.

instead, your body almost collides with his, his hands wrapping around your upper arms to steady you. the touch is brief, though your stomach twists at his touch. he’s a bit cold, letting go once he sees you adjust yourself. he tucks a stray hair away from his face, cheeks lifted in a smile.

“this may be presumptuous of me, and i didn’t want to make any suggestions that night because of the situation. and i know you’re in a bad spot right now and it may not be a good time, but…” he clears his throat. “would you like to hang out? not a bar, not drinking. but a cafe maybe?”

your smile matches his, “yes.”

his small smile is endearing as he nods, looking away from you. “great.”

“good.”

he laughs, “seems like we’re both not good at this.”

“not at all. but at least we’re not good together.”

though he does not blush, his lips tremble, eyes scattering across your face as you say the words. perhaps he does not blush at all, but you can tell your words flustered him. he licks his lips, “i’ll message you, i’m free tonight.”

“so am i.”

“then it’s a date.”

he holds out his hand, and you take it, ready to shake. instead he lifts yours, his lips lightly brushing against the back of it. “a date.”

—

the air is calming between the two of you. shy glances back and forth, your fingers playing with the lining of your shirt, his dragging along the thin layer of shirt he wears. he is not cold, he told you this several times. his laugh echoes around the small cafe, cheeks lifting when he notices how loud he is. neither of you say much but it is plenty enough. he makes you forget about your heartache, your hurt. he shines rather brightly in the low light. you haven’t the need to focus on him fully, his presence effortless in comforting your heart. it is equally enjoyable and terrifying all at once. who would have though that after several dates you’d still feel terribly shy in front of him.

“can i see you again?” you ask after a moment of quiet laughter. it is something silly you’ve asked each time you’ve met up. it’s become a routine now, his smile too hard to resist each time you utter the words.

he takes a sip of his coffee. black. not something you’d choose for yourself, but he seems to enjoy it. it’s his second already. “of course. i hoped you would ask,” he admits jokingly, fingers pushing his hair away from his face. “i do enjoy being around you.”

“flattery only gets you so far,” you frown, though it is anything but irritation.

“it is only the truth,” he shrugs.

if your face could turn red it would at his words, it would. your lips enclose around the metal straw, its cool temperature soothing. “have you had any partners recently?”

he shakes his head, “not in a long time. relationships were never something i considered.”

oh.

you try not to show how that affects you, but it seems to be spelled out in the expression you make. he continues speaking.

“but i think i’ve changed my mind rather recently,” he adds, avoiding your gaze completely. “and if that person is still… mending themselves, i am willing to wait.”

“even if it is long? what if it’s years?” there is no teasing in your tone, now. you are undoubtedly serious. you enjoy yeosang, you enjoy him being around you. but you wouldn’t ever want to hold him back from something he wants. no matter how much it’d hurt you - that devastation you felt yourself was enough. having the kind man in front of you experience even a fraction of what you have felt is terrible to fathom.

“love,” his hand reaches out, covering yours. though he insists that he’s not cold, you can feel it on his skin. but the word that he’s just said, let slip from his lips. love.

he called you love.

“i will wait for you,” he does not look away from you. “i will wait years if i have to.”

“yeosang, we’ve known each other for only a few months,” you shake your head, “it’s ridiculous to hold yourself back from someone you barely know.”

his fingers wrap around yours, humming, “right? i, i’ve met so many people in my life. but relationships were something i just did not desire. but,” he laughs. “your presence might have changed it all for me.”

you could only giggle, placing your free hand against your face, holding in your embarrassment. you are not one to declare your feelings as forward as he could. after a couple of seconds of letting his words sink in, you look back at him. his gaze is so clearly unswayed, held tilted barely as it rests on his hand.

“okay.”

“okay?” his brow raises.

“okay, i’m okay with that.”

his smile only grows, “so am i.”

though the two of you have never uttered that you were partners, you are exclusively seeing one another in a sense. he often rested at your place – on the couch, never in your room. you never went inside his place, though you’ve seen the outside of it. a tall building, one in a district you’ve avoided your whole life. yeosang never bragged about how much money he earned, but he told you that he was wealthy. enough so that he only traveled once or twice a month for work. he said it was business but again, didn’t elaborate. at the time you should have questioned him more about it but he changed the subject before your mind could truly settle on it.

and one night, out of the blue, he invites you to his place. you decided to go to the convenience store just before, stepping inside the well-lit area, scanning the ramyeon shelves. a startled oh pulls your attention away from the assortment, looking to your side.

if it were possible for a heart to physically shatter, this moment would be it. choi san stands there, eyes wide, hands wrapped around a bag of chips. he looks nervous and worried, glancing back then looking at you. your smile is strained. you grab whatever is in reach, turning down the aisle and going to the register. the employee greets you but you can’t muster a response, hand gripping the curve of the counter. thoughts elsewhere.

you never thought you’d run into any of them ever again, especially since hongjoong told you yourself that no one really ventured in this neighborhood. you wish he were here now to distract you from your inner turmoil. you thank the employee with your eyes, not bothering to look around and exiting the store.

“y/n, please wait!”

you hear his voice behind you. running would be silly, and you’re an adult right? dealing with your issues in person, rather than running from them. that’s what you’re supposed to do. so despite the sorrow and hurt that is merely simmering at the surface, you look at san. he looks as handsome as he always does, though his eyes are moist now, hands wrapped around his bag. he stops once he sees you turned around.

“hi, san.” you say, “i have somewhere to be–”

“i didn’t think it through,” he starts promptly, not bothering to greet you properly. “i thought it was just another hookup, y/n. fuck, i mean, i didn't know he liked me like that. or had feelings that were more than just wanting to fuck. everyone around that place knows how i am, i just," san sighs loudly. his fingers trembled as he pushed them through his hair. "seonghwa is a good guy. one of the best i know. i'd never break his heart on purpose. i didn't know what to do anymore. i wanted to tell you what i felt so i was going to. and then you left the place entirely so i couldn't even talk to you about it and–"

"i don't blame you, san," you say softly, noticing his spiral. "i don't think he blames you either. he takes stuff like this hard, that's all. seonghwa doesn't hate you, he doesn't hate anyone. but i doubt you'd be the same if the person you like rejects you. it takes a while to get back to yourself. this is him taking that time."

he rubs his face, nodding at your words. "you think so?"

"we were best friends for longer than i can count. i know– knew, him better than i know myself. i'm more than sure."

“i didn’t know you had a thing for him, y/n. i said it at the time because i didn't know how to let him down easy. i really didn't know it was true.”

there it is. the conversation you’ve avoided for months now. the heartbreak that you’ve hidden so deeply inside of you. yeosang never mentioned it and neither did you. but seeing san, knowing that his hookup with seonghwa is what started it all. it’s not his fault, but seeing him again now, in front of you, makes it harder. you rub your face, closing your eyes.

“i didn’t know either, san. but it’s been a long time since it happened. we shouldn’t let something so long ago bother us now. i’m okay.”

relief seems to sink into him, “i’m sorry. and i’m sorry for telling him, it was shitty of me.”

“it’s okay, you don’t need to apologize. things happen. but i’m okay now. it’s okay.”

“right, you are,” his gaze flicks to how your hand trembles as you hold your bag. “there’s so much more to say, but i don’t want to hold you up any longer. you probably have somewhere to be.”

“i do, but thank you,” you pause. “thank you for stopping me too. i hope you’re well. i hope you and everyone else at the place are healthy. send them my greetings.”

“i will,” he smiles, dimples intending his cheeks. san has always been a kind man. you’ve never had any ill will towards him, he just ended up in the middle of it all. “i’m sure seonghwa would like to hear that.”

–

your hair sticks to your forehead. makeup trickles down your cheeks, staining your shirt. your plastic bag grew too heavy for you to hold, sitting on the side of you as you stare out into the streets. you haven’t moved from the front of the market.

your phone ran out of charge long ago, tucked inside your bag. you tried to grab it, knowing that yeosang probably called, but you couldn’t bring yourself to answer. the incident with seonghwa was months ago, it was so long ago. you shouldn’t be this upset.

you shouldn’t be this hurt.

hearing his name after such a long time, you thought you’d be okay. you thought that you would handle it easily. but his name, along with seeing san? it was all too much.

is there something wrong with you? he didn’t die, he’s probably living well without you. and yet you mourn. your tears hidden beneath the rain, body shivering. you should try to get to yeosang. let him know you’re okay.

you should do that.

you look down at the sidewalk beneath you. people walk past. some have glanced at you, but none have pulled you from this. what is this? why can’t you describe it?

you’re cold.

“hey.”

you barely look up from where you are. an older man stands there, vaguely familiar. you think back for a moment – ah, the employee in the store. mustering up words is just too much effort now. so you meekly nod, water splattering against your face. his hand touches your shoulder and you tense up.

“a pretty woman like you shouldn't be out here alone.”

your lips tremble, nudging his hand away. he only tightens his grip, your eyes widening. your chest tightens, body unwilling to move. you've never been in such a situation, filled with too much fear to force your mind out of its despair. just as he begins to lean down, a loud sound fills your ears. you close your eyes, the ringing harsh against your temple. enough so that it consumes your thoughts.

you should call him.

the hum of a car stops in front of you. the door slamming should have startled you, but you’ve grown too numb from the sound to react. you feel those familiar cold hands on your cheeks. it’s enough for you to look up. the mark looks darker in this low light, brown against his temple, fading into the curve of his eyes. his thumbs rub your cheeks, eyes flicking between yours. neither of you say a word, but you feel how he pulls you into his chest. you cannot remember when the sobs began. but they engulf you, hands finally able to move, arms wrapped around his body as he pulls you into him. you’re too overwhelmed to say anything, but you hear him. you hear his words.

i’m here for you.

i know, i know.

it hurts a lot, i know.

let’s get you somewhere warm.

–

you sit on his sofa. he’s given you his clothing to change into, an older pair of sweats and sweater. he hasn’t touched you since bringing you back to his place, careful to avoid your skin. a cup of steaming medicinal tea sits on the small coffee table, cookies you love next to it. your eyes flick to the screen, television playing your favorite cartoon.

yeosang does not say a word as he cooks in the kitchen, humming every once in a while. he has not broken the silence and neither have you. your heart has settled down a bit, enough for you to speak. are you scared to start? yes. yeosang has never been once to pry, always allowing you your own space to say what you wanted. it’s something you’ve admired since you’ve met him. there was never any pushing from him. he let you open up yourself.

“it was san,” your voice is low. you’re afraid that he has not heard you at all, but his humming stops.

“the hookup?”

you thank him silently for his good memory. “yes. he… we ran into each other inside that convenience store. he said sorry for everything. then he said his name, and i…”

you couldn’t breathe.

“it hurt.”

“it did,” you murmur. “i thought it’d be fine, speaking to him. since it’s been so long, i thought i’d be fine. but i wasn’t, yeosang. it felt like the first day that i told seonghwa to never speak to me again. it just felt like too much.”

“you have yet to mourn what you’ve lost, love,” yeosang enters the living room, sitting on the couch across from you. “it will hurt for a while even if you’ve accepted that he was no longer in your life. he’s your best friend.”

“was,” you correct. yeosang doesn’t comment on that, continuing.

“it will take time.”

you hide your face, sighing. “and i’ve only just opened myself up to you because i was afraid of my hurt. i cannot believe i let you see me that way.”

“you know that that doesn't bother me. we care for each other, y/n. i hope that we can see each other at our best and at our worst.”

“that’s the thing,” you look up. “you’ve been seeing me at my worst this whole time, you haven’t even seen me at my best and yet you’ve stayed.”

yeosang looks at you, hand resting on his knee. he closes his eyes for a moment, breathing slowly. “that is because i haven’t told you all of what i’ve been dealt, y/n.”

you can feel that ill feeling slowly come back. he seems to sense it, quickly speaking.

“it is nothing against you, that i assure you. but this might not be the best time to say anything more. you are still hurt. i’d rather you not be overwhelmed with it all.”

“are you a criminal or something?” you joke, though there is a bit of curiosity within the jab. yeosang has not shown you anything negative so you cannot quite guess what he’s hiding. you haven’t seen his family yet or friends, so maybe it’s that? letting your mind wander will only make it worse.

“no.”

“yeosang–”

"i’m a vampire."

"and i am a fairy," you snort, rolling your eyes. yeosang thinks for a moment, eyes flicking over yours.

"i'd believe it since your beauty matches one of the fae, but your personality does not. there's not a conniving cell in your body, love."

“you’re joking,” your brows furrow, staring at him. he does not give you the usual small smile, nor does he laugh at your confusion. no, all he does is stare at you, waiting for a response. you can only look at him, eyes flicking over his face. oh, you’ve fallen for a man who lost his mind, then?

your luck just seems to continuously run out.

“you look like you’re going to run,” he says, attempting to reach you. you move away, and he does not try to chase you. he observes you as you stand from your spot, body tensing the more you look at him.

his beauty has always been something you’ve noticed, something that’s occupied your mind more times than not. but you’ve seen him eating, seen him drink coffee and swallow slices of pizza with you. from what you’ve learned of vampires (via various forms of media), they cannot stomach human food.

“how?”

he shrugs, “it has been a millennia, y/n, and i still don’t have the answer to that.”

“i mean,” you wave your hands around. “you’ve eaten food with me, you’ve had drinks with me. you’ve done all of that, and not once have i seen you drink blood.” your stomach turns at the thought. “yeosang, you’re joking with me, right? this is just a weird test or something?”

“what would i be testing on you, love?”

“i don’t know–”

“y/n, listen to me carefully.” he still does not move from his spot, but his eyes meet yours, his lips trembling slightly. “i was born as a vampire. i was not turned into this creature. i have met several of my kind over the centuries. most of us avoid one another since we are not really friendly. we stay on our own most of our lives. there may be times where you see one or two together, but rarely more than that. i am alone,” he says slowly. “i have not told a human soul what i am since i was a child. you are the only one who knows, on this earth.”

“because people would think you’re out of your mind?”

“that,” he agrees. “and because i am rare, one of less than a hundred. and humans are fond of dissecting things they do not understand. though my life has been long, i have still a lot of it left. i’d rather not die early.”

his words are just unreal. no matter how he explains it to you, you just cannot accept them as true. he seems to know that as well, sighing softly. “you do not believe me?”

“i believe that you think that’s what you are. have you ever seen a doctor for your condition?”

“y/n, as i have told you–”

“right,” you nod slowly. “the whole i’m-the-only-human-who-knows thing.”

“would you like me to prove it to you?" he does not wait for an answer, standing up from his spot and walking off. you do not follow, eyes widening when you see him come back with a knife in his hand. he sits down at the coffee table, legs folded. “this is the only way you’d believe me.”

“yeosang, i believe you,” you watch as he lifts the knife. “yeosang!”

his eyes meet yours briefly, smiling, “don’t worry.” he drops it, the chopping sound echoing around you. you scream, hands rushing to cover your eyes. the sound is horrid, there is no description of how the slicing of flesh resonates. the metal clings as it hits the floor. there is no howl of pain, no sound of him falling to the floor with the knife. nothing at all. you’re terrified to open your hands and see what he’s done.

“you have to look quickly before it heals, y/n,” he says softly. “please, do this one thing for me.”

“i swear, yeosang,” you hesitantly look at him, flinching once you see what’s in front of you. there are no splatters of blood. his hand is not on his wrist at all. but what you do see, oh, it’s indescribable. his amputated hand slowly slides back to his wrist stump. the sound is like bones cracking as it attaches itself. the two of you watch, skin sinking into each other, smoothing over until it appears that nothing has happened at all.

you’re stunned.

“you are all i can trust,” he says, wiggling his fingers. “this might be a lot to take in but–”

you raise your hand, “hold on.”

as moronous his confession is, it makes sense, oddly. sure, there’s no possible explanation for how he could possibly chop off his wrist, especially without as much as a scream from him. but what is his purpose - has he planned this all to entrap you? you care for him dearly, possibly love him. is this his goal all along, have you involved enough so you’re unable to leave his side? unable to make rational decisions? you from months ago would have ran out the room from a confession like this, but you just cannot. you look at your yeosang sitting on the floor, waiting for you to speak. he has not moved ever since you have, has not attempted to stop you from going anywhere. you’ve even tested it, taking a slight step back. still, not a muscle twitches.

there are several conclusions you can come to, but one is certain - yeosang at least believes that he’s a vampire. and that should utterly terrify you. but he is still your yeosang, even if he indulges in blood once in a while. and he just chopped off his hand.

for fucks sake, are you that desperate for human connection that you'll hang around a blood drinker?

are you mad?

“y/n?” he interrupts the quiet. “you can leave if you want to. i won’t stop you if this is too much.”

that’s your yeosang, ever so caring, ever so thoughtful.

“you’re not lying?” you ask again. “you’re a vampire?”

“yes.”

“a good one?”

his lip twitches, “that's subjective, but i try to be.”

“why are you telling me now?”

he looks away from you for the first time tonight, gaze out the windows. you haven’t had the chance to look around his place because you’ve been too stuck in your sorrow, but it is him. a penthouse, but him. the city looks into the apartment as he begins.

“after seeing you so destroyed tonight, i couldn’t let myself go another day without saying it. i should have told you so long ago, but i didn’t know how involved we’d be. i thought it would be a short time we’d see each other. but i enjoy being around you. there has not gone a day since we’ve met each other at that bar that i haven’t thought of you. and it is utterly terrifying. so hiding this secret from you… i could no longer do it. i needed to know that you were not scared of me before continuing to be around you.”

“how do you know i’m not afraid?”

his smile is small, not reaching his eyes. “i have seen true terror in my lifetime, y/n. i know it when i see it.”

“if i decided i didn’t want to be this with you? what then?”

“it would be hard, but i would let you go, y/n. you’re not trapped here, you’ll never be,” he rubs his face. “do you hear me, truly? you can leave now and never come back, and that would be the end of us.”

you don’t want this to end. in fact, the mere thought of never seeing yeosang again makes you ill. you care too much for him to just go, even with information like this. so, he’s a vampire. he drinks blood. there could be worse things, no?

you cannot even believe your own thoughts.

“this is fine,” you say aloud, nodding slowly. you think back to when you were outside of the store, when that older man began to bother you. you look at yeosang. he came within seconds of that happening, barely a minute passed. it wasn’t him who helped you, was it?

“did you hurt that old man?”

yeosang stares at you, eyes flicking between the two of yours. “no.”

“are you lying?”

“i did not hurt him, y/n. i grabbed him, yes, and pulled him away from you. i told him to never touch you again, to never touch anyone else again, or else i would hurt him,” he looks down at his hands. “i wanted to kill him, if you were going to ask that next. i wanted to very badly, but i didn’t. you needed me, and i couldn’t let anyone distract me from that.”

you believe him. despite the strange circumstances, you do. you take a step closer to him, his movements frozen. your hand reaches for his, the obvious cool temperature of his making more sense now. “thank you.”

he lifts your hand, lips pressing against the surface. “you’re welcome.”

things changed after that.

neither you nor yeosang bring up anything that occurred that night. he does not press you about san and you don’t bring it up at all. things have progressed slightly. his tenderness is never ending; hands caressing the soft skin of your hips, lips brushing against your neck and collarbone. there’s a bit of excitement when he does that as well – knowing his true nature. he hasn’t hinted that he wants to feed off of you. you know it is due to your fear, deep down. he drinks from blood bags stored in his freezer, heating them up in the microwave. he avoids you entirely as he does so, brushing his teeth and washing himself before settling in the same room with you again. you’ve told him he didn’t need to do anything like that, that you care for him as he is, but he confessed that it’s difficult for him to be around you after drinking, bloodlust at the surface. and he’d rather you not see him that way.

“alarmingly disturbing,” he notes, nose wrinkling at the movie poster. you merely roll your eyes, passing him his small cup of soda as you walk through the outdoor mall.

“i’m sure i saw you cry at the end.”

his eyes widen, “i cannot cry, you know that well.”

“yeah yeah.”

you insisted on him going with you after his confession that he’s never entered a theater. it is magical to be with someone when they’re doing something they’ve never done before. his soft eyes widening at the large screen, words mumbled into your ear at certain scenes. his hand still hasn’t left yours after it ended.

his fingers tighten around yours as he points at the decorations, “it’s the middle of january and yet the decor is still up from the holidays. i never celebrated much but,” he takes a sip of his soda. “it is heartwarming.”

“remind you of the movie?” you grin, and he only frowns. you laugh, nudging him slightly. “it was a pretty somber ending, i know.”

“they both followed different paths, but they met each other again. i…” he sighs. “i know it’s supposed to reflect a realistic path, but they could have been together. they both wanted it.”

“some things don’t work out even if they do want each other.”

his gaze slides to yours, and your smile slips slightly, already suspecting where his thoughts lie. you look away from him, “don’t give me that look.”

“what look?” his voice is smaller this time.

“you know what look i’m talking about.”

“y/n…”

“i can’t, not right now.”

“i’m not pushing you to say anything, you know that.”

“i know.”

“but i want you to settle your feelings. it’s not good to keep it all inside of you,” he stops walking, straw away from his mouth. his brows furrowed in concentration, thinking. “i cannot believe i’m about to say this.”

“yeosang…”

his fingers loosen slightly, but he does not let go. “i fear that my love for you is much more than what should be allowed,” his eyes are moist, unable to leave yours. “surrendering myself to you is a choice i have made, but it is quite mad, is it not? committing my heart to you without knowing what you feel about me. i know you like me, i know that. you wouldn’t let me be around you otherwise. i have now trusted you with my secret, with all of these things, and not once have i felt fearful of you telling someone. the only fear i've felt is losing you.” he shakes his head slowly. “you are a human. i have fallen for a human. a human who is heartbroken over a love that she has lost. i know this, and i stand here telling you that i love you. is it not stupid?”

it is not a question for you to answer, rhetorical even, but you decide to respond. “it’s a bit stupid.”

he laughs dryly. “it is.”

“but you have done it anyway. it’s stupid, but maybe even idiotic,” you go on, his expression worsening at your words. “you know what is even more stupid? me, watching you struggle to confess in front of me and not admitting that i feel the same way for you.” his eyes widened. you swallow slowly, blinking slowly. “we shouldn’t love each other this way, yeosang. not after that night, not after me breaking down from hearing seonghwa’s name.”

“we shouldn’t, love.”

“but we do anyway,” you smile. “stupid.”

“completely.”

his gaze settles on yours, before flicking down to your lips. your breath hitches at the glance, until he looks away. “i must warm up the car before you enter, i can be back quickly,” just as he is about to step away from you, you grab his arm. he does not move, even as you move closer.

“can we…”

his body trembles at your hand against the skin of his neck. “y/n…”

“it will be quick.”

his resolve is breaking the longer he looks down at you. his hand reaches up, pulling your face closer to his. "i would love to, y/n. but your heart still belongs to him, even if it’s small," he whispers, a breath away from your lips. he feels how your breath hitches, how your hold on him loosens. he would have pulled away but he knows you need this. knows you need to hear what he has to say. "i know you're still in love with him, y/n. pushing it deeper and deeper will only make it worse when you see him again. don't pretend in front of me, please."

you move your face away, eyes moving to his. you expected hurt, anger, sorrow. regret, even. but nothing like that meets your gaze. empathy. brows furrowed, lips parted. his thumb brushes against your cheek, wiping away a tear that falls.

oh, you're crying.

you touch your cheek, swallowing slowly. "i thought it would go away."

"if only that were so easy," his face relaxes. "you have to go see him again."

"i can't do that."

"he's your best friend."

"was," you correct once more. "he was my best friend. then i pushed him away because i was afraid. i let my phone ring until i blocked his number because he wouldn't stop calling. i let him move on, yeosang. i let him go."

he presses his forehead against yours. you welcome the cool temperature of his skin, shivering slightly. "that's not letting him go. that's removing him from your life with force. he never wanted to leave your side."

"you don't know anything."

"i've seen seonghwa, pretty."

you still. “what?”

"i saw him not too long after meeting you. he was broken," he admits. you've known him long enough to tell when he's choosing his words carefully. for your benefit. "he was with a friend crying at the bar. weeping. his body shook. i didn't know who he was at the time, but it looked as if he was struck by grief. i planned on walking over to confront him, perhaps take away some of his burden, but then i heard your name slip from his lips. i've lived long enough not to believe in coincidences. he was sobbing your name. a man sobbing another's name with such raw emotion could not be angry with you. he was mourning the relationship the two of you had. i know i may be overstepping, but please see him. just one time, speak to him. i need you to."

no.

san saying his name in front of you tonight was enough to stun you. seeing seonghwa again… you cannot.

you won’t.

“no.”

his hand leaves your face. he presses a light kiss to your temple, your eyelids fluttering at the contact. in typical yeosang fashion, he says, “okay, pretty.” he makes sure you’re looking at him when he smiles, squeezing your hand as he pulls you along with him. his humming fills the silence as you walk, as if nothing happened.

you cannot help yourself.

“yeosang, you’re not upset? about any of this?”

"why would i be?” his brow raises.

you’re not sure how to answer that.

he continues, “i am yours, y/n. that is why i am so persistent on you seeing him. i don't want you to live in regret being with me when the man you also love is not too far away."

"i don't want to leave you." and it's true. you've spent the last few months with him, by his side. having him ripped away would only make your mental condition worsen. yes, you shouldn't depend on another's presence for comfort so deeply and you're learning slowly not to, but leaving him now will only make it worse. you love him without ever uttering the words. you love him more than you can describe. "i can't leave you."

"listen to my words carefully, love," he stops moving, looking up at you. "i am not leaving you. i will never dream of it. i am in love with you, y/n. i've never said it before tonight i know, but i am. and i do not plan on ever leaving your side unless you want me to, understand? so i don't mind, if something happens between you and seonghwa, i don't mind it."

“nothing is going to happen.”

he nods slowly, “alright. shall we go?” he gestures to the guards in front of you, the sounds of stores dropping their gates and locking their doors. “we’ll discuss this more at a later time. i can make you something when we get back.”

that night is the last time he has ever pushed you, though slightly, into confessing your feelings to seonghwa, and your apology. hongjoong is elated when you tell him of your new relationship status, though you could see the slight worry dwelling as well. he knows as well as yeosang how badly your heart is hurt. you trust yeosang not to hurt you - he has never done anything remotely close to battering it. but that’s not what they’re both worried about.

his words linger. the two of you flourish in your relationship, though he has never once let his lips touch yours. you’re not sure if it’s his gentle nature or if he does not want to touch you that way until you’ve settled your feelings, but it does sting a bit. each time you initiate he turns his cheek for your touch to be placed there.

the intimacy avoidance just continues to grow.

after one of his after-feeding showers, you sit at his counter. head resting on your folded hands, watching the world just outside this apartment. too consumed in your own thoughts. you don’t bother leaning into his touch when his lips kiss the back of your neck. thumb rubbing the back of your arm. you don’t flinch at all, that in itself is concerning enough for yeosang to stop at the fridge.

“y/n? are you alright?”

“fine.”

he closes the fridge, moving around the counter to stand in front of you. he wears a loose graphic tee you’ve gifted him, his sweatpants that you wore that night covering his legs. his head tilts. you’ve always found that habit of his endearing, but right now you’re too annoyed and frustrated to have it affect you. his frown deepens when you don’t meet his eyes.

“pretty girl.”

those words almost get you. you close your eyes now, moving your head to rest on your hands instead, face hidden. “fine, yeo.”

the guilt of this situation begins to riddle within you. there is no obligation for him to do anything with you and you’d never force the situation, but your own desires are sitting at the surface. yeosang walks around the table, his hand brushing over your skin, draping himself over your hunched over body, it’s comforting, his sweet scent wrapping around you. you feel the brush of his nose against the back of your ear, breath tickling your skin. you tense.

yeosang stops, though he does not let you go. “you’re upset with me?”

“i’m not.”

“i can’t read your mind, but i can tell when something’s up, y/n. did i do something?”

“yeosang,” you sigh, body trembling when you feel the brush of his lips on your earlobe. unable to take the closeness without your mind wandering elsewhere, your chair slides harshly against the tiles. you stand up and move away from him, fists tucked to your sides. his brow furrows as he looks at you, head tilting. “i can’t concentrate when you’re that close.”

“okay, that's fine. but we can’t move forward if you don’t tell me what’s upsetting you,” he takes the spot you were once in, sitting on the edge of the stool. his legs are apart, fabric tight against his thighs. leaving nothing to the imagination.

oh how your suffering continues.

“are we moving too fast?” he asks after a moment. “should we take a moment to think this through?”

“no!” your voice is louder than you’d like, the teasing of a grin on his lips. “no, we don’t need to go slower than we already are.” you stop, sighing. “i don’t know how to say it.”

“you want me,” he says simply, taking a sip of your water. “since you said ‘slower than we already are’, you want us to take a larger step in our relationship. am i correct?”

flustered at his quickness, you nod. he hums, thumb rubbing the condensation of the small glass cup. your gaze follows his movements, room temperature increasing by the second. you only look away when yeosang speaks up again.

“it’s not like i don’t want you, pretty,” he places the glass on the countertop, looking at you. “do you know how difficult it is for me to not touch you? i am a predator, my smell is heightened. everytime i’m in a room with you all i smell is you, all i want is you,” he says simply, laughing at the expression forming on your face. “it’s not all i think about, but it’s very prominent in my mind.”

“then what’s wrong?”

his smile wavers, “you know what’s wrong, pretty girl. i said it when we confessed to each other. i need you to speak to him again.”

“yeosang, i told you how i felt.”

“i know, and i accepted your choice. but i just,” a long exhale escapes his lips. “i want you so badly, so desperately, but i cannot move forward until you settle your own feelings with seonghwa. i don’t want you to think i’m forcing you to do anything because that’s not my intention at all. i’m sorry if the thought crossed your mind about me not wanting you sexually because i truly do. but you’re not fully here with me, y/n. and i fear you never will be unless you see him again. i don't want you to live with the regret of what could have been.”

you hate it. you hate that you want to accuse him of manipulating you into a conversation with seonghwa, though he is not forcing it upon you. you thought you could hide your feelings, thought that with time, you would no longer think of him because you have the man in front of you. but you have. you haven’t stopped thinking of him since you ran into san. it is like he’s embedded himself in your brain. you thought you’d be okay enough to move forward with yeosang, love him with everything you have, but you can’t. he’s right. it wouldn’t be fair to him if you let this feeling continue.

yeosang lets his words settle within you.

“okay.”

“okay?” his brow raises.

“i think i’m ready to talk to him.”

he looks at your eyes, nodding slowly. “it will be good for you.”

the question still lingers, though; what’ll be the outcome? what if seonghwa breaks you - what if he repairs you? what if at that moment, you forget about yeosang, forget about all of this? you can’t do that to him. you love him more than you can describe, but feelings can change in a moment.

“y/n.”

you’re not sure when he stood up, coming closer to you. he holds your head in his hands, eyes flicking between yours. “i love you too dearly for me to be upset if you left me for him.”

“how did you…”

oh. you definitely said that all out loud.

“i don’t want anything to happen,” you whisper. “something could happen.”

“it may. but i myself, i am not…” he thinks for a moment. “i wouldn’t mind opening this relationship for you, if your feelings match one another's.”

now this is something the both of you have never discussed. he picks up on the alarm in your expression, continuing. “i never really desired anyone like this before. i’ve fucked, yes, but relationships didn’t really happen for me. that is something i’ve glossed over a bit in the past,” he looks away. “my relationships consisted of me only having sex with another, but not really a partnership. nothing that i would consider to be a full blown relationship. but with you, i wouldn’t mind sharing you. you are too wonderful for me to ever deny your desires for humans. there are some things that i’ll never be able to give you,” his hand brushes against your cheek. “like warmth. and someone to grow old with, a child. i will remain this age and you won't.”

that thought lingered in your mind as you've spent time with him. being a vampire isn't something you want for yourself, even if you love yeosang dearly. you're not even sure how that process works because you didn't desire it so you never asked. but opening your relationship? you never thought about being polyamorous.

“this is confusing,” you murmur. he presses a kiss to your forehead. “i don't know yeosang, this is a lot to take in.”

“it is,” he agrees. “i'm here for you if there are any questions.”

the conversation turns away from seonghwa a bit as you have an open conversation with one another. yeosang explains how he does not really have a label for himself, living his immortal life with eyes open. you yourself have attraction to all sorts of people, fitting for how yeosang views himself. it is odd that though you two haven't spoken about it, you're so similar. he also explains that he does not see himself seeing anyone but you in your lifetime, and insists that he tell you if something changed. you aren't quite sure how you'll handle the seonghwa feelings, if he even considered your own after all this time. yeosang only assures you that whatever you decide he will accept, whether it be a polyamorous relationship, monogamous with either him or yeosang, or nothing at all. his acceptance is astonishing, but he only explains that his long life has told him not to worry about small things like this.

if only you could say the same.

yeosang does not make any sort of move towards you, holding you close as you sleep in his bed. the long day brings exhaustion to settle on your shoulders. soon enough, in the cool embrace of yeosang, you fall asleep.

—

the cold chill seeps into your wool coat. yeosang insisted that you wear your thickened sweater while you were out and about, but you ignored his worried gaze and told him you'd be back soon enough. but now that you stand outside the café, hands tucked into your pockets as you wait for it to open, you regret ever not listening to his advice. you can imagine him now, soft lips protruding from their usual small smile, nose flared and brows tight with concern. the mental image only makes your own lips lift.

“he was right about the temperature,” hongjoong's eyes peer between the thickened cotton scarf wrapped around his neck and forehead. he's covered completely from head to toe in clothing his partner made for him, rosy nose the only sliver of skin shown. it's endearing to see him loved this dearly, knowing that he's sought out someone for much longer than you have. he digs into his pocket, handing you his spare mittens and a heat packet. you thank him, slipping your hands into the soft material.

“think it's an immortal thing to predict the temperature?” he asks, whining when you lightly hit his calf with his boot. “what!”

“i told you not to speak of it in public,” you discussed it with yeosang about telling your best friend. he was a bit hesitant at first, but agreed. hongjoong believed it much easier than you had, nodding in content and murmuring something about yeosang being a bit too beautiful and kind for a human. it was ridiculous reasoning at the time, but you were glad he believed you. hiding it from him would have weighted on your mind.

“I barely said anything,” he shoots you a glare. “but seriously, you should have grabbed a scarf.”

“i didn't think they'd be closed at 8am on a saturday!”

“you should have checked,” hongjoong whines, stepping closer to you. he pulls you into his side, arm wrapped around your shoulder. it’s not enough to subside the freezing temperatures, but you find it endearing nonetheless. “i used to hate it when customers waited outside just before opening. started off my day wrong.”

“we can walk around or something,” you murmur, and he laughs, nudging you slightly.

“it’ll be fine, we’re not staying long anyway.” he looks around, his laugh disappearing swiftly. you look over your shoulder to see what's caught his attention, but he turns your body away, forcing you to look the opposite direction.

“joong, what the hell?”

“it's seonghwa.”

your throat tightens up. seonghwa? he's here? fear begins to climb in you. you haven't readied yourself to approach him. it was going to happen soon, but not now. not early morning, body shivering from the brisk air. not when you're still afraid to speak to him. hongjoong moves you further away from the store. you would thank him if you could.

“hongjoong?”

seonghwa's sweet voice carries through the air. hongjoong hesitates, looking at you. he does not say a word, but his eyes tell it all. should i ignore him? should i let you go and i speak to him alone? they're still friends, that you know. you encouraged hongjoong to stay friends with him, your hurt was never his. but now, here you stand. you can either face it, deal with it, or run away again. no one would scold you for it, protecting your feelings. but how much longer can you run?

you shake your head at his questioning eyes. he settles on you for another moment, before turning around. you follow his lead.

seonghwa is as beautiful as he always is. beanie pulled over his head and covering his ears, black hair barely peeking from beneath. glasses likely tucked away in his bag. he matches the gloomy morning, long navy coat, black boots. the slight flush of his cheeks due to the low temperature. he smiles, and your heart races. his gaze moves from hongjoong’s, shifting to you.

his eyes widen, flicking over your face. eyes, nose, lips, hat, body, eyes again. his lips part, a sigh leaving them. his brows furrow, hand clenching, then relaxing. you've seen this happen before. that day on the roof, the last time you saw him. the look in his eyes is different though. it is not filled with hurt. confusion, worry.

you’re not sure what emotion has settled in his gaze.

“birdie…?” his voice cracks, looking at hongjoong briefly. how that nickname almost breaks you completely.

“hwa,” your lips tremble, but you force them to smile anyway. “hi.”

“hey,” he drags the word, blinking quickly. “hi.”

“the café is open, i'll grab a few coffees,” hongjoong looks around seonghwa. “be right back, alright?” be looks between the both of you, before leaving. the air only thickens as you two stand here alone. your rub your fingers on the hot pack in your gloves, gaze on the ground.

“i didn't think i'd ever see you again,” he admits. “it's been a long time.”

“it really has,” you agree. awkward. you were never this awkward with him. the two of you walk around the issue, the uneasiness only growing. “i–”

“i'm–”

you speak simultaneously. his cheeks darken. “you can go first.”

“no, you. i’ve said plenty since we last spoke, didn't i?”

a smile appears, though it doesn't reach his eyes. another cloud leaves his lips as he sighs, hand tugging on the loose strap of his bag. “did i fuck up back then? did i hurt you so badly that you didn't want to deal with me anymore, birdie? is that why you wanted to leave me alone?”

how easily he lets the nickname roll off his tongue. as if it hasn’t been over half a year since you’ve seen each other. as if you didn’t remove him from your life. but no. you didn’t want to leave him. you never did.

you shake your head, “never. i couldn't handle it all, i couldn't handle the way you were looking at me. it was a lot.”

“how did i look at you?”

“like you pitied me. like you were about to tell me how you felt, and i,” you weren't ready to hear his rejection. “i was scared. i didn't think that my feelings for you would be told that way. i wasn't ready for it.”

“so you then decided that it was best that you never deal with it at all?” he frowns, brows furrowing. “you didn't let us talk it out, and you ran from me. you didn't let me say anything else.”

“i messed up. i was too insecure to hear what you had to say.”

“want to go to the park for a bit?” he gestures behind the two of you. you take out your phone, sending hongjoong a quick message that you’ll be gone for a while. he sends a thumbs up back. likely aware that this was going to happen anyway.

you two walk next to each other, your hands tucked in your pockets, rubbing the heat pack. seonghwa glances at you, worry about his features. he does not say it, probably due to the situation, but you can tell it’s at the tip of his tongue.

“you look cold.”

oh, so he does say it.

“i thought we’d be out here for a few minutes,” you admit. seonghwa’s lips lift slightly.

“you are always underprepared.”

“i really am,” you shake your head. you should have grabbed that coat like yeosang asked. the two of you walk a bit further, finally arriving at the park. it’s a place the two of you have spent plenty of time at on breaks or excursions, from children to adults. seonghwa wipes off the seat of a swing, gesturing for you to sit. you do, thanking him as he takes the spot next to you. the sun is peeking above the clouds now, temperature rising slowly.

"i didn't know how i felt until you were gone, birdie," his hands are wrapped around the chains of the swing, eyes glued to the snow beneath your feet. seonghwa always radiated confidence, sureness. it was rare that you've ever seen him so vulnerable. so afraid. it makes your heart ache knowing that though it was not entirely your fault, you cause some of his anxiousness. "i was too forward when we spoke about it. overwhelmed, i think. i was so heartbroken over san that i didn't take your feelings into consideration. i let my thoughts get to me. i made you close up, i made you run. and i can tell you're about to interrupt me but just let me say this okay birdie? give me this one thing."

you nod, holding back your words.

"i fucked up when i confronted you. you were right when i didn't want you to be. i let myself get lost in the attention of the guy that i liked. but i think, no, i know that losing you made me see what i've really lost. i lost my best friend, and the one person in this world that has been by me my whole life. i was blind, i think. wait, is that right to say?" He curses himself, taking another breath. "for fucks sake, i thought id practiced this enough to say it right but it just doesn't make sense."

he peeks through his covered face, eyes softening when they meet yours. "i'm in love with you, birdie."

you shake your head, blinking quickly. "you're–"

"i'm not letting you do that," he interrupts with swiftness. "i'm not letting you say that my feelings aren't real when i know they are. it's been months of me thinking about it. this isn't some sudden epiphany. you're not a rebound to me. i wouldn't do that to you, i care too much to even consider that. not that you have to accept my feelings," he adds in. "you can tell me to fuck off and i’ll do it. a little teary-eyed, but i’d still do it."

“seonghwa.”

“i just,” he swallows, “if you don’t want anything like that with me, it’s okay. i just can’t lose you again. it’ll take time, but i’ll move on if you don’t want me that way. we can still be best friends. or at least something. i just… i can’t lose you again.”

yeosang's declaration repeats in your head over and over as you decide how to respond. your heart and head are fighting one another. there's no doubt in your love for yeosang, not even slightly. and he was right – you still love seonghwa no matter how many times you try to push the feelings away. him confessing this to you now, how does that make you feel? and how will he react once you tell him about your partner now? not taking the leap now when you're so deep into it all will only lead to regret later. and you've done enough of that the past few months to last a lifetime.

"i’m still in love with you, seonghwa," you whisper. "i thought i would get over it but i haven't. it scared me how attached i am to you, especially after a while. maybe the years have caught up to me, i’m not sure. but i still love you."

he opens his mouth to speak but you hold out your hand, stopping him. "i can't continue this conversation though, without telling you."

his brows furrow. "tell me what?"

"during our time apart i met someone, hwa," you look at him, his face crumbling immediately at the information. "i met him and i fell in love with him. and i know it hasn't been that long but it's serious. i can't imagine my life without him now."

he nods slowly, "it was presumptuous of me to think you just stayed stagnant this whole time. im sorry–"

"wait, seonghwa. yeosang and i, well, he told me to come to you. he knows how i feel about you and thought i should see you in person again to figure things out. and he is so considerate of me and my feelings, as well as your own. i don't know how to say this," you swallow, closing your eyes as you say the next words. "he knows i’m in love with you and encouraged me to pursue you while still being in a relationship with him. he doesn't mind me loving you and him at the same time. do you understand what i’m saying, hwa?"

he nods slowly, "...yes."

"and as you just said, i don't want to be presumptuous and think that you would be okay with it because it's a lot for someone to consider. it was a lot for me to even think about because i would never want to hurt either of you. if we were to decide that we would like to continue on in a romantic sense, i’ll still be dating yeosang while we're together. and vice versa. i want you to think about what i said to you and consider it before anything else is said, okay?"

"what i decide?" he repeats.

"yes. and then we will take it from there, whatever you decide seonghwa. but i just want to let you know that i love yeosang too much to leave him, if your thoughts start moving in that direction. i'll never break his heart."

“i understand,” he says simply. he digs into his pocket, glancing down at his phone. “your phone number? it’s still the same?”

you nod, and he mimics the movement. he stands up from the swing, tucking his hands back into his pockets. “okay. i, just give me a few days, y/n? just some time to figure this all out.”

“that’s fine,” you smile, and he smiles back. you stand up from the swing and without another word he pulls you into him, hands wrapping around your torso. his body is trembling as you hold him back, his face tucked into the curve of your shoulder. as quick as he holds you he lets go, giving you one last look before leaving the park.

seonghwa doesn’t call for over two weeks.

it worries you - he did tell you that he’d contact you soon. it hurt that there isn’t as much of a greeting sent to you, but it makes sense. you confessed to him that you were in love with someone else and said that your partner was okay with it. that could confuse anyone. so despite the circumstances you hold out hope. yeosang comforted you once you told him what happened - made you your favorite soup and desserts. it was a lot when you arrived at his apartment. not on the brink of a breakdown like before, but it took a lot out of you to suddenly have him in front of you. to confront those feelings head on without preparation.

you're resting your head on yeosang's thigh when he messages you. it's pretty simple, just a few words.

hwa: can we meet up? with your partner too.

you look up at yeosang and he's already looking down at you. his focus turns to your phone when you show it to him, brow lifting. “both of us? think he's considering it?”

“maybe,” you look at the message, hovering over the text box. “he could just be letting us know that he doesn't want anything like that.”

“he could do that without me,” yeosang points out. “there wouldn't be any reason for me to come.”

“right,” you sigh. “why am i scared to message him back? are you okay with this, yeosang? seriously okay with all of this?”

“my love,” his hand resting on the side of your face, tilting it ever so slightly. enough for your eyes to settle on his. his thumb slowly strokes your skin. “in what ways could i convince you that i am all for you? that there is next to nothing that would make me change my mind about this? you are my happiness. i have never been more okay.”

you lean into his touch, “you always know what to say.” you open the conversation, texting back.

you: i'm available and he is as well. lmk ♡

hwa: friday? joong told me you didn't work that day and either do i. if yeosang is available too.

you look up at him, and he nods.

you: yep yep, i'll see you. at the old café, right?

hwa: the only place birdie ♡

“done?” yeosang asks, finger still stroking your cheek. you nod, and he hums again, moving off the couch. he moves your head softly to the cushions where he just sat, walking over to the fridge. you never open it, watching as he grabs a blood bag.

yeosang is careful as he opens it. grabbing scissors specifically for this task, sliding it against the plastic. his hands move slow as he pours it into the small container. you never bother him as he does this, pupils dilated, locked in his own world. he never told you to not speak to him, but it felt like you couldn't interrupt the routine of his. he is already on edge whenever he does so.

you flick through the channels, until a loud splat pulls you from your surfing. you stand without thinking twice, running over to the kitchen. red covers the floor tiles, splattered against the fridge and covering the legs of the table. the harsh smell of blood fills your noise as you step back, running to the closet to grab his mop. yeosang grabs a paper towel when you come back with the device. just as you're about to help wipe it up he grabs the pole of it, stopping you in your spot.

“it's blood,” he whispers, eyes closed. “my pretty girl, would you mind going back into the living room?” his words are strained as he says it.

“yeosang-”

“now,” his eyes open, shifting to look at you. you’ve never seen his gaze look so odd. the wood cracks beneath his hold, his nose flared. you waste no time, grabbing your bag off the chair and running towards the exit. yeosang does not stop you, though you are sure he hears your frantic panting as you slip on your shoes, grabbing your coat before running out the apartment. leaving him alone to deal with the mess.

—

it's monday.

three days since you left yeosang alone.

you were petrified.

seeing yeosang that way, almost animalistic as he held himself from doing anything more – any reasonable person would be afraid, right? anyone would run from the situation entirely, not let it escalate further. this is not like a movie, you won't survive because of his adoration for you. you did not see his eyes because he hid them from you. but it wasn't a wild guess. he wasn't himself at that moment.

or, he was. it's just not something you've experienced yourself.

none of this is okay.

as you stare at your phone, his name appearing across the screen, a small heart next to his initials, your own aches. it isn't his fault, what happened. he did what he needed to do. you trusted him enough to control himself. to hold himself back from his own thoughts as the blood filled his nose. but right then, you weren't too sure. you were scared of yeosang.

admitting it only makes you feel worse.

you open his messages, several sent over the past few days.

i’m sorry.

i shouldn't feed when you're around, i made a mistake.

please answer my calls, dearest. please let me explain it to you.

i am afraid that you're afraid of me now.

i love you.

it hurts, reading them over and over. you haven't mustered the courage to listen to the voice-mails. you know yourself. you'd take off running to his apartment, not caring about your own feelings, soothing his own. it'll only lead to something like this happening again. and you're not sure you'll be able to accept the second time. or live, frankly.

“fuck you,” you murmur at yourself, holding your forehead in your hand. “call him, y/n. call him and let him speak to you.”

despite the words said aloud, despite the way your thumb hovers over the dial button, you close it completely. you grab your bag and bus card, locking the doors of your apartment.

you haven't told hongjoong what happened. he'd make sense, he'd tell you that if you're afraid now at something like blood spilling, it'd only get worse. you'll find yourself in a situation you wouldn't want. and he'd be right, partially. you will find yourself again, around him when an incident occurs. and you'll have to decide again, if you trust him enough to stay with him.

you step onto the bus, sending the driver a small smile as you scan your pass, sitting down.

yeosang explained to you simply at the time, to stay away from him when things like this happen. at that moment you weren't thinking, your over helpful nature taking over. it was your fuck up approaching him like that. but there will be times it will happen and he wouldn't be able to tell you to go away.

what then?

—

the door swings open before you get the chance to knock.

yeosang stands there. his clothing is barely on his figure, loosely thrown against his body haphazardly, barely leaving anything to throw imagination. blonde locks every which way, likely due to him running his fingers through it again and again. if it were possible for him to have eyebags you would have seen them, usually brown eyes slightly lighter in color. his eyes flick over you, his hand pulling the door open farther.

“my friend is over,” yeosang's voice is hoarse, blinking slowly. “i smelled you when you entered the building, but he didn't leave quickly enough. he'll be out of here soon.”

you hesitant to enter, already filled with anxiety from this encounter. yeosang's face breaks at the fear in your expression. there is nothing you can do to hide it – open book as always.

“his name is wooyoung, he's a vampire. he's a bit younger than i,” yeosang glances behind him. “but i trust him. he is one of few that i do.”

you trust yeosang. you do, aside from the fear. you nod simply, taking off your shoes and entering.

you spot the vampire packing up his things. he does not turn around as he does so, shoving items into his duffle bag. his appearance closely resembles yeosang's in stature, though he is a bit leaner, a black head of hair. he zips up the bag, throwing the strap on his shoulder as he turns. his beauty is not shocking from what you've experienced with yeosang. moles decorate his skin, slightly tan. his head tilts, eyes traveling over you.

it is not in appreciation.

“you are the human that frazzled yeosang,” his smile is bright and wide, though the warm greeting does not reach his eyes. “interesting that you are quite unremarkable.”

“another word of offense and i'll kill you myself,” yeosang murmurs, eyeing him from his spot near you. “leave, now.”

wooyoung rolls his eyes. “fine. but remember my words, hyung. i'll be around town for a while if you need me. goodbye, human girl. make sure to keep your window locked,” he steps past you, door slamming once he exits his apartment.

the air is solemn between the two of you. you don't blame his friend for insulting you, in fact, you'd probably do the same if places switched. but still, it did sting. quite painfully. you sit where his bag just was, looking down at your hands. it has never been awkward with him. you were able to solve simple arguments with ease this whole time. communication has never been your strong suit, but his ease of speaking helped you gain the confidence to speak up for yourself. though now, it seems as if all the progress has faltered.

“i should have warned you how i am when my mind shifts,” yeosang says softly. you watch as he sits at the kitchen island. he hasn’t looked away from you despite your hesitance to look at him in the eyes. “it was my fault that you ran away.”

“i should have left you alone. i slipped up.”

“you don’t have to blame yourself for this, y/n,” he shakes his head. “i haven’t been around humans this closely. i forget that you aren’t used to how i am when i’m hungry. i could have hurt you if you took my words for granted. i am thankful you listened when you did,” he admits, looking away. “i can control myself well, but i didn’t expect that scent to hit me so strongly. i messed up, you didn’t. you did the right thing.”

“i ignored you for days because i was scared. of you, of what you are,” you hate saying these words to him. you hate that you have to explain how you feel about it. but there’s no other way to continue if you don’t tell him. “it took me some time to let those feelings settle before i had the courage to even appear in front of you. your friend, wooyoung,” his eyes twitch at the name, but you continue. “i can tell he doesn’t like me. it makes sense, since i’ve ignored you for so long now. i’m sorry.”

“you don’t need to apologize, y/n.”

“but i want to. i want to because i can’t lose you, yeosang. i let myself dwell in my emotions again without telling you. i ran away from the problem instead of confronting it,” it is not something you’ve moved on from. “i did it again.”

“i would have went over to your home eventually,” he admits, a sly smile on his lips. “warning you beforehand, of course. but i was never going to let you slip away without an explanation. i know you care too much, and i know i care too much. neither of us would walk away from this without at least a few minutes of conversation exchanged. but,” he rubs the back of his neck. “are you still afraid of me? honesty, please.”

“i don’t know. right now, i’m okay with you being in the same room with me.”

“you haven’t looked at me since you’ve walked in, pretty girl.”

you look up from your hands. his brown eyes warm when they meet yours. you’re not afraid of this yeosang, of the sweet man in front of you. but you are somewhat scared of when he shifts into his feeding mindset. he stands, and you watch as he crouches in front of where you sit. yeosang brushes his fingers across your cheek, hands shaking, eyes flicking between yours rapidly. somewhere in your body is telling you that you should run away. But the look yeosang is giving you stops you from saying anything. he hesitates, touching the corner of your eyelid. Your eyes are moist, and you shiver under his grasp.

"how does it feel?" he asks softly.

"like I should push you away, like, like you're going to hurt me." you admit under your breath, eyes down. he leans, meeting your avoidance.

"i won't hurt you, pretty girl. i won't do anything to hurt you, please know that. do you trust me?"

you nod. he leans forward, eyes moving from yours to your lips. you clutch the chair underneath you, closing your eyes.

*are you scared of me?*

You're ripped from your thoughts, and you open your eyes. yeosang is centimeters away from your lips, his breath fanning your lips. you move one of your hands off from the chair, touching his chest. your fingers stretch out, feeling the smooth skin underneath them. you twist your fingers, trailing the curves of his muscle. your curiosity getting the best of you.

“y/n,” he breathes, chest rising and falling quickly. your mind is telling you to run, but you don't. not now. not after you're this close. you touch his adam's apple, and he gulps. he opens his eyes, their red gaze trained on yours. you stop, shocked at the change.

“i can't, i can't handle being this close to you without…” His words trail off, hands now on the back of your neck, playing with the small hairs. his hand seemed stuck in its place, not daring to move. “if you don't stop, i won't be able to stop myself from fucking you into the chair.”

you drop your hand from him, and he groans at the loss of contact, not moving. He lifts his free hand, touching your thigh. his hand travels up slowly, and you quiver, the warning signs gone within a moment. he stops at the zipper of your jeans. You close your thighs around his grasp, and his lips curve devilishly.

“do you want me to ?” he leans close, his lips brushing against the soft skin by your neck. he trails his tongue along the curve of your neck, biting lightly. “you taste so good.”

you lean into him, his lips moving up your neck, closer to yours. he smiles against your cheek, and you feel the corner of his lips touch yours. your grip on the chair tightens, almost impossibly so. he moves closer, their soft touch brushing against yours.

your eyes lock onto his, searching for any sign of doubt or hesitation. you know when he’s conflicted, the furrowed brows, the concerned gaze. often you could sense the conflict within him, the fear that something beyond his control might destroy the two of you. at that moment, none of it mattered.

“i want you to want me, y/n," his tone is desperate now, “please tell me you want me.”

his yearning hands in the air. your heart swells with a mix of emotions — desire, a bit of fear.

“i want you, yeosang.”

his lips smile against your skin, anticipation as his lips meet yours. his breaths are heavy, lip soft and cold. the chill sends a shiver down your body, but it is anything but discomfort. his tongue sliding against yours, cool temperature only making your body warm. his fingers hold the back of your neck, pulling you deeper into the kiss. soon enough. when your fingers reach up, tighten in his hair in response he grunts and deepens the kiss, spurred on by your initiative. the deeper, heavier kisses pull ragged breaths out of you, and he only stops when he senses your loss of breath.

"I need more," he confesses, his lips and breath flowing over the back of your neck. a hand slips from the back of your neck, his tongue pushes into your mouth, moving earnestly as his other hand unclasps your bra. you moan into his lips as it releases. his cool fingers move down your back slowly, tracing the curve of your spine. the shiver causes you to pull away from his kiss. “already sound so pretty,” he whispers. his other hand lets go of your neck, both sliding along the line of your body, soft grip settling at your hips. his lips are greedy against your skin, light licks and pecks left in his wake. your hands are wrapped around him, holding him close. your legs tremble as he presses you forward into the couch, hovering above you. you can feel as he leaves a mark just off your neck, your fingers flexing, nails gripping his skin as you try to keep yourself steady.

he lifts you easily off the couch, lips against your neck as he guides you into his room. though this is your first time inside, he does not give you a chance to look around, moving over to the futon and laying you down. yeosang barely breaks the kisses between you as he leans over you. his soft hands move over your exposed breasts, gasps escaping your lips. you cover your mouth with the back of your hand to repress the moan that rises up when he kisses your sensitive nipple. your body writhes beneath him as he speaks.

"hands on my shoulders," he says, trailing kisses from your lips to your ear. "keep them there please, pretty girl."

you nod, unable to hold his stare as his gaze stays on you, his hand slipping under the waistband of your sweatpants. your breaths are heavier as his fingers slip between your thighs. he’s hesitant at first, index finger dragging along the lining of your underwear. he watches you carefully as he pulls it to the side, a finger slipping over your clit. your hands tense and you let out a plea of surprise and pleasure, covering your mouth as your eyes go wide. his finger slowly rubs your clit, coaxing warm moans from your lips. his movements are erratic; slower, faster, one finger slipping inside, two.

you're shivering under him, "yeo…"

"let go, pretty," his voice is sweet, “look at me when you do.” your eyes focus on him as best they can. there's a pleased hum that comes from him, your fingers and toes flexing as the pleasure that's been building the last few minutes peaks.

"y/n," yeosang mumbles, his breath tickling your neck. his lips drag across your skin, your chest throbbing in anticipation. You place your hands on his chest, pushing slightly. Despite your heart whining at the loss of contact,

"i want more of you, y/n," he says softly, “and that is so terrifying.”

he sighs, and you stop talking. he pulls your hand, guiding you towards him and letting you fall on top of him. his back is against the bed, his blonde hair scattered across. you hold yourself up with both of your arms, hovering above him. he closes his eyes, his hands gripping your hips softly.

"this desire to please you, it consumes me. i want you to want me the same. But," his fingers slowly dances up your waist, tracing your skin, "you may not ever feel the same as I."

he rolls over, and this time, he cages you beneath him. his pupils dilate, and he looks down at his chest, "if you could only know how hard my heart would beat for you.”.

his shirt drops to the side, and you gasp, seeing the scars that cover his chest. against his skin, the ridges curve and meet each other at odd angles. many are faded over time, but you can see a small glimpse of them. yeosang doesn’t say anything, letting you take in his body. the hurt. you reach out, finger ever so lightly tracing a more prominent one. yeosang sucks in a breath but doesn’t move his eyes from yours. he lets you follow the path. your eyes swell with tears, and he brushes one that falls from your eye.

“please don’t cry,” he says softly, “all of it is from long ago, i’m okay now.” you shake your head, bringing your fingers away from him.

“it looks so painful, yeosang. i’m so sorry.”

yeosang leans down, brushing his lips against yours. he breathes in your gasps, stroking your cheek as your tears fall. your eyes flutter as his tongue slides along your lower lip. his lips move from yours, slowly dragging across your shoulder. despite just moments ago when his fingers were inside of you, you cannot help but let embarrassment sink in as he observes you.

“i cannot believe you’re here in front of me. staring at me, willingly letting me see you,” he’s holding his weight up on his knees to keep it from crushing you. “what have i done to deserve you? who knew that you would allow me to see you in such a vulnerable state?”

“i am just a human, yeosang.”

with that he smiles, hand trailing down the curve of your torso. “divinity would faint underneath your gaze.” he moves closer to you, and you feel his bulge straining against his sweats. if you look close enough, you can see a small wet stain coating the outside of the fabric. his lips continue their slow descent down your body, light pecks each time he lifts up slightly. his hands press firmly into your hips, his nails leaving small indents.

you hesitantly reach out, letting your fingers drag through his hair. he shivers at your touch, eyes darkening as he lets his tongue trail. you clench your thighs at his approach, and he whispers onto your skin. inaudible, you ask him to repeat himself once more.

“tell me if you want me to stop,” he says, finger dipping between your folds once before. It didn’t sound the same as before, but you couldn’t question him at the moment. your breath shakens, mind clouded with only him. he drags his middle finger slowly over your clit, enough to keep you on the edge, but not enough to arouse you further. you sigh in frustration.

you begin to stroke his cock, nails scraping against his skin lightly. he leans his head into the crook of your neck, sucking on your skin as your hand moves up and down his erection. yeosang stops your hand in place. he moves back away from you, kicking his slacks off his legs. you see the scars extend from his chest down his legs, and some disappearing onto his back. he sees the sadness in your eyes, and presses his lips between your brows.

“i’m okay,” he repeats, “i have you, pretty girl. i’m okay.” he wraps his arms around your torso, letting your heartbeat slow. he presses his lips to your forehead once more, before pushing you back down.

you look at him, the moonlight shining on his blonde hair, turning it into a more silver shade. he scared you before, an uneasy feeling each time you stood next to him. now, you couldn’t even remember how it felt.

yeosang looks down at his cock, his erection still prominent against his stomach. he looks back at you.

“you can still say no, and I will stop.”

he waits for your response patiently.

“i won’t say no,” you reply back, and he leans down. his cock presses against your cunt, slipping inside with a low pop. you moan, throwing your head to the side. the low moan that escapes his throat is otherworldly, his girth stretching you to your limits. every stroke to move further in has you gasping, his small whimpers barely heard over the sound of your wetness, his cool cock slipping through.

your hands reach out to touch his shoulders, and he leans closer to you, wrapping his arms around your torso. he holds you tight as his cock settles in you, his breaths shaky. you feel his hands wrap around your thighs and his body, forcing your cunt to pull him in deep. you widen your eyes as you feel his cock pulsate, almost shaking inside of you.

after you adjust to his size, he goes slow; long strokes moving in and out of your cunt at a leisurely pace.

yeosang pauses, “may i move faster?”

“please.”

he grins. he slams his cock into your cunt. you gasp, his strokes quick and deep. your muscles ache as he continues his relentless pace. fingers digging into his back, whimpers of pleasure falling from your lips.

“i love you.” you’re voice is barely above a whisper.

yeosang’s pace is already relentless, but when he hears those words fall from your lips, it’s like a switch flicked inside of him. he rears back, and slams. you squeeze tightly, and he rewards you with another slam, filling your whole completely. his pattern is erratic, moving quickly and dragging his cock along your cunt. it’s thick; you can feel every vein and lump that covers him.

the bed strains under his pace, forced away by the strength of his stroking. his lips press against your skin feverishly, his desperation to climax overwhelming. the quickness of his skin rubbing against yours, crotch smacking against you and grinding relentlessly will definitely have you sore in the morning.

yeosang pressing into you, your cunt pulsating as your nails tear the skin of his back. you yelp. the intense sensation of yeosang’s thrusts make you fall into your climax, your moans echoing around the room. your eyes flutter as he pulls you tight against him, and you feel his cock explode with cum strands hitting your walls.

you two sit there for a moment, until yeosang shifts, his body still hugging you but this time, laying on your side. his cock sits in you, slowly softening. he runs his fingers down your cheek, rubbing your skin softly. the temperature of his body pressing against yours is cool, your skin seeking his. he presses his lips to yours lightly.

"we should clean up before we sleep." you say into his skin, though unmoving.

"i'll take care of it." he says, covering you with a nearby blanket as he gets up.

he holds you closer to his body, breaths tickling the hairs on your neck. hours have passed, most filled with your combined sounds of pleasure. enough so that you’ve exhausted yourselves sheets in the washer, new ones beneath your freshly showered bodies. he didn’t leave you alone in there either - not that you wanted him to, of course. his stamina is endless, your flushed body against the wall as he pressed into you. the thought of it makes your body warm, legs wiggling slightly against his cool chest pressed against your back. his lips drag against your shoulder, soft kiss brushed against it.

“again?” he whispers. though you cannot see his face from this angle, you can hear the smile in his voice as he says the word.

your body aches at the thought. “yeosang, you’re insatiable.” you murmur, his arms wrapping around your center, pulling you closer into him.

“mm,” he agrees simply. “now that i’ve had you i’m not sure i can let you go that easily. and we have to christen my apartment.”

“that’s a bit blasphemous,” you snort, and he laughs. “what, i’m sure there’s at least a vampire afterlife of some sort.”

“unfortunately for me, pretty girl, if there is one, i doubt i will be experiencing it anytime soon.”

the conversation lulls after that, soft giggles and laughs filling the silence every few minutes or so. the anxiety of being around him before diminished into nothing. his chin rests on the top of your head, the rumbling of his throat as he hums vibrating against you.

“wooyoung wasn’t serious about what he said,” he says after a few minutes of silence. “he worries for me.”

“he should, he’s your friend.”

yeosang pauses for a moment, before continuing. “we were partners a long time ago.”

oh. a long time could mean so much more to him than to you, but you don’t dare interrupt, intrigued on what else he’s going to say.

“the last time it happened was about a little over a hundred years, give or take a few years. we’re well now, but in the beginning it was rough. we used each other for satisfaction every couple of decades. he came to my apartment today and mentioned our past,” yeosang’s fingers slightly tighten. “i told him i have you now. it didn’t upset him, but it did bewilder him. i’m not one to interact with humans the way that others do. i avoid your species completely, moreso out of fear of the unknown. i trust you, but i don’t trust any other human. i’ve only accepted you telling your friend because i have confidence in your decisions. if it were anyone else i’d vehemently deny it. but i digress - wooyoung will not bother you again. he may linger around my home every so often, but he’d never welcome himself into yours. we would need permission to enter, anyway.”

“do you still like him?” it is an awkward question to ask, but you’re curious. you don’t deny that yeosang has feelings for you, but you wonder if his feelings for wooyoung go beyond simply caring for a friend.

“not as you're thinking. i enjoy him being around as a friend. he brings out another side of me. but not as a partner or lover. i think we’ve grown past that part in our relationship. he seems to agree as well. and i do believe he has a partner of his own now.”

“so i have you to myself,” you grin. he cannot see it from the angle you’re resting, but he chuckles, body vibrating to the sound.

“was there ever any room for uncertainty?” he presses his lips against your hair, “are you reassuring yourself because of wooyoung, or our meeting with seonghwa coming up soon?”

how decipherable are your emotions?

“a bit of both. i want us to be okay before anything else is decided. bringing someone into a situation that isn’t stable would hurt us all. and seonghwa is my best friend,” you whisper, “i can’t hurt him again.”

“will you tell him about me?” he asks.

“i would have to if we’re all going to be in this. i can’t keep any secrets from him. and i’m sure he’ll figure it out almost immediately. he picks up on small things quickly.”

“you didn’t,” he teases.

“i just thought you were a freak,” you murmur, a gasp spilling from his lips. “nothing wrong with that!”

“and yet you stayed,” he points out.

you turn around, his hold loosening as you do so. your body faces him, hand reaching up, tracing the lining of his face. you cannot imagine yourself without him now, your identities too entwined for you to separate without hurting each other in the long run. there is little that would have made you leave him.

“yeosang,” your tone is softer, decorated with your complicated feelings. his name holds so much in your mouth each time you say it, a confession, maybe. there is little to separate the two of you — the space between your bodies unseen at first glance. his hand reaches to cup the shape of your face, thumb resting at the corner of your lips. how easy your heart picks up at the simplest touch.

“you torture me,” his lids are heavy, teeth digging into his lip. “i know you tease but my mind wanders.”

“to?”

“i cannot look at you, be with you, think about you, without love. i never really yearned or envied humans before. your lives cave out such a small amount of time it felt insignificant to desire such an existence. and yet i rest with you here, holding a breath that is neverending, afraid of leaving you. my love for you will cause me to crumble and i will never not be thankful.”

his finger catches a tear that falls down your cheek, “if it were only feasible to be with you until the end, pretty girl.”

#fic: from eden #yeosang x reader #kang yeosang x reader #seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #ateez angst #ateez fluff

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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 8 months

Text

I Can See You | Spencer Reid

Add yourself to my taglist! | Here’s my masterlist!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: When Penelope's best friend comes to help out the BAU on a couple of cases, there's an immediate connection with the youngest of the team. After longing glances, soft touches and wild fantasies, the truth comes out accidentally. What is the resident genius going to do with that information?

Warnings: mention of serial killers and bombings, inappropriate thoughts

Author's note: I've wanted to write this one every single time I listened to the song but when @pastanest wrote it first, I was scared to do it too because that one is just too good (read it here)!! Anyways, hope y'all like this one, too :)

Words: 3K

Being Penelope Garcia’s best friend came with a lot of perks. Aside from it being impossible to ever be sad around her, it also came with the perk of doing the odd job at Quantico. We had met during her days as the Black Queen online and ever since, she had taught me all she knew about hacking and tech analysis. While she worked for the FBI, I worked across the yard at the Capitol as tech support.

Her job was a little more tantalizing – sometimes more traumatizing – than mine. While I simply helped the employees with their technical issues, Penelope actually helped save people.

And sometimes, she called for my help with a case whenever she figured everything would go so much faster with some helping hands and flexible fingers.

The first time she had called me on a case, I didn’t even know what I was in for. She just told me to get to Quantico as soon as I possibly could, that it was a matter of life and death. So, I packed everything up, and rushed across the street to the FBI building. I didn’t even bother to tell my boss. I was certain Penelope’s boss would vouch for me and get me out of trouble, even though I had never met him.

“Thank you so much for coming, y/n/n,” said Penelope as she took me into a hug as soon as I burst through the front doors and into the hallway.

“Penny, what’s happening? Are you okay?” I asked and held her at a short distance to inspect her for any injuries.

She waved away my question. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she said and grabbed my hand to drag me towards reception where I had to register. It wasn’t until after my bag had been inspected and I passed through security that she started to explain what was happening. “We’re working on this really tough case and though my dainty fingers are quick at tip tapping away on the keyboard, I’m gonna need your genius to get me the answers twice as fast.”

On the way up to the sixth floor, she briefed me about the case, just so I was up to speed before we actually started. I was too distracted listening to her rambles that I didn’t even notice another person rushing through the hallway on our way from the elevators to her office.

My shoulder bumped into theirs, causing me to stumble ever so slightly, but firm hands on my shoulders kept me from actually falling. “Oof, sorry!” The both of us apologized at the same time.

What I didn’t expect to happen when I looked up at the person was being so taken aback by the beautiful pair of eyes that locked onto mine. The hazel orbs had tiny gold specks in them, making them look almost honey-colored.

I was so distracted by his eyes, I didn’t catch Penelope’s mischievous smirk she would only get whenever she had expertly set me up with someone when we were out at a bar or a party.

“Y/N/N, this is my wonderful colleague and resident genius, Spencer Reid. Reid, this is my almost-as-sexy-and-smart-as-me best friend, y/n y/l/n,” she introduced us as the guy – Spencer – retracted his hands from my shoulders, convinced I was steady enough on my feet.

He offered me a smile that nearly wiped me off my feet again. “Hi, nice to meet you.”

My lips curled into a smile that mirrored his. He didn’t offer his hand to shake, so I decided not to offer mine, either. “Ditto, Spencer,” I said instead, unable to tear my eyes away from his.

“Okay,” Penelope then interrupted, “Enough chit-chat. We gotta go!” As I managed a quick wave at Spencer, my best friend pulled me along to her office where we settled behind her computer screens. While she explained how her system worked, my mind involuntarily drifted off to the disarming genius I met in the hallway.

For hours, Penelope and I worked on the case together, taking turns in getting drinks and food to keep us nutritioned. We were discussing a list of potential UnSubs after we had finished our lunch and I was chewing on the straw of my Sprite when Spencer burst into the room.

“Garcia, y/l/n, I’ve got something to narrow the search,” he said, causing my heart to flutter at how my last name sounded from his lips. He leaned between us, placing a piece of paper on the desk. His stomach was pressed against my shoulder whilst his arm brushed mine.

A chill ran down my spine, but I remained poised, trying to be professional. “Those are the places he went to in the last twenty-four hours?” I asked, deducting the theory from the map in front of me.

Spencer had drawn lines across the map, connecting at least five dots. “Uh-huh,” he hummed, then leaned in closer, his face right next to mine. “We were able to get these locations from the GPS of the rental car he used and ditched at the last murder site.”

His breath felt hot against my skin, but it didn’t stop me from starting to tap away on the keyboard, trying to find any CCTV footage from any of the establishments in the neighborhood of those locations. Within seconds, I’d found some footage from a service station where the UnSub was seen leaving the shop.

“Was this what you needed?” I asked sassily and turned my head to look at him. He was a lot closer than I anticipated him to be, my nose nearly grazed his cheek. Even up close he was pretty.

He stood up straight again, much to my dismay, and offered me a shy smile. “Only if you can give me a name, too,” he told me.

Raising my eyebrows challengingly, I turned back to the computer and ran the footage through Penelope’s software. Within seconds, I found a name, his age and address, which was someone on the list of suspects Penelope and I had been looking at for the past ten minutes.

“Can you send that to the team?” he asked as he took out his phone, already dialing one of the team’s numbers.

“Already did, pretty boy,” I smirked and watched as he walked away with a quick ‘thank you’ thrown over his shoulder towards us. When I turned back to Penelope, she looked at me with that teasing look she would only ever give me when she was about to give me shit. “What?” I asked.

“Nothing,” she sang, though her face said something else entirely.

I didn’t feel like getting into it. It wasn’t like I was going to see Spencer again. This was a one-time thing. Or at least, that was what I thought. It wasn’t until Penelope called me two weeks later with the same request. Even then I managed to stay somewhat professional around Spencer.

But they didn’t leave it at two times. At least five more cases, I was asked to help Penelope out on. It didn’t bother me, at all. In fact, I actually enjoyed helping the BAU team on their cases. It gave me the opportunity to work together with my very best friend as well as secretly flirt with the young doctor. And, you know, learn something new and everything.

Every time I saw him, I could just imagine him pushing me against a wall and kissing me senseless. Every brush of the arm, every longing gaze we directed to one another. It all drove me completely insane, but there was not much I could do about it but sit back and act as professional as I possibly could.

When we finished case number five, I was packing up my stuff and exited Penelope’s lair. My mind was still racing with the images I had seen about this gruesome case, but all of it seemingly cleared up when my eyes landed on the person standing at the very end of the hallway.

“Oh, hi, Spencer,” I greeted with a smile as I approached him.

He offered me that same knee-buckling smile. “Hi, y/n. I wanted to-uh, I wanted to check up on you. See if you were doing all right?”

I wanted to push him against the wall and kiss his jaw. That man was the most considerate person alive and it was absolutely turning me on. Coughing, I recomposed myself. I couldn’t act upon these feelings building inside of me.

“I am,” I said. “Though, I got to admit, this last case was a whole lot more brutal than the previous ones I helped on. It’s gonna haunt me for days.” I let out a chuckle, taking my eyes off him for a second.

Spencer hummed. “Yeah, it, uh, it takes a while to get used to it.”

“Do you ever get used to that?”

Chuckling, Spencer shook his head. “No, not really…”

A chuckle rolled off my lips too and for a moment, the two of us fell silent. It was a comfortable silence with the two of us just gazing into each other’s eyes as if we were under a spell. I knew that if I didn’t break eye contact, I would actually kiss him.

“I, uh, I’m gonna go home,” I told him and finally tore my gaze off him.

“Right,” he mumbled and turned towards the elevator. “You-uh, you want me to walk you to your car?”

Eyes widening, I almost immediately let out a sharp, “No!” The moment he and I would’ve stepped out together, I would’ve jumped his bones. I coughed to recompose myself again. “No, I’m okay,” I repeated, softer this time.

“Oh, okay,” Spencer nodded and stepped aside. “Well, I’ll, uh… I’ll see you another time then?”

I offered him a smile. “Yeah, see you next time.”

From the second I left the BAU, Spencer occupied my mind for the foreseeable future. Every corner I turned, every meal I had, every day I worked at my regular day job at the Capitol,... Spencer had taken over my mind and every fiber of my being.

It had been a good week since I had last seen the BAU team, since I had last spoken to Spencer. I couldn’t focus at all. He was all I could think about to the point where I couldn’t even properly function. I had to do something about it. Even if it was just getting that feeling of frustration off my chest.

That was why I had marched my way over to the BAU, went through the protocol at FBI security and clipped on my Visitor’s badge before trudging down to Penelope’s lair where I burst through the door without even knocking. She had given me the code to get in, so I didn’t have to knock.

“Y/N? What are you–”

I ignored her and plopped down on the sofa with a groan. “I don’t know what to do anymore, Penny,” I told her defeatedly, resting my head back against the back of the sofa and looking up at the ceiling.

“About what?” she asked.

“Spencer, of course.” I didn’t catch Penelope’s wide-eyed look as I continued my tirade. “Unfortunately, I need him in a way that will defy the laws of space and time and set feminism back seventy years.” Rubbing my hands over my face, I rolled my head back to look at my best friend, who hadn’t given her unsolicited opinion immediately like she always did.

That was when I saw the look of horror on her face. “Sugar plum,” she started, “Don’t be mad but…” My eyes landed on the device with the blinking red light behind her. She had been on a call and I could all but guess who was on that call.

“No,” I muttered, my heart plummeting to my stomach and my cheeks heating up in embarrassment. “Don’t tell me –”

Penelope pressed a button, putting her coworkers on speaker rather than through her headset. All I could hear was Derek’s and Emily’s giggles. “Wow, y/n,” came JJ’s voice, a bemused lilt in her tone. “I did not expect that coming from you.”

I squeezed my eyes shut before rushing forward and pressing what I thought to be the mute button. “Why didn’t you mute us as soon as I came in?” I asked before starting to pace the length of the room, but didn’t give Penelope the chance to answer. “Now everyone knows and to make it all worse – Spencer now knows.”

“Oh, mama, it’s not like we didn’t already know,” came Morgan’s voice through hiccups of laughter.

“PENELOPE!” I screeched, realizing I hadn’t pressed the right button.

With a simple shrug, Penelope turned to me. “Maybe it’s not so bad?” she tried and I just groaned in frustration before turning on my heel and leaving her lair. Now I had to debate whether to wait for Spencer to come back and explain everything to him or to just go home and never show my face here again.

There wasn’t much of a chance for me to think about it because the team quickly filed back into the offices. As soon as my eyes landed on Spencer, I froze. Our eyes met and I could tell he wanted to tell me something, but there was a serial bomber to catch. Rather than leaving and going home, I decided to stick around and help Penelope.

But before I could head over to Penelope’s lair, it was impossible to avoid the other’s relentless comments. Through a sea of giggles and quoting of what I had said to Penelope in confidence, I made my way through the bullpen, rolling my eyes.

“I’m gonna get a cup of tea,” I told Penelope, getting up from my seat in her lair. “You want one?”

“Yes, please, sugar,” she answered without taking her eyes off her screen.

With a chuckle, I left the office and made my way to the break room where I put on the kettle for two cups of tea. While I busied myself picking out a flavor, my mind drifted off to what I could possibly say to Spencer if I ever got the chance.

“Oh,” I heard the mumble behind me and when I turned around, I found Spencer in the doorway. “Hi.” He smiled a little awkwardly before making his way to the coffee pot.

I returned the gesture. “Hi.”

My eyes were trained on him while he poured the coffee and scribbled something down on a notepad beside him. My mind filtered through every possible word combination possible. I was so distracted, the click of the kettle turning off startled me.

As I poured the hot water into two cups, Spencer placed a folded piece of paper in front of me on the counter and scurried away before I could possibly react. Curiosity rising within me, I unfolded the piece of paper, only to find “Meet me tonight” written in his scrawny handwriting.

“That’s not vague at all,” I scoffed before pocketing it and continuing making the tea. Once the teabags were in, I made my way back to Penelope’s office, but not without one last glance at Spencer in the bullpen. Together with Derek and Emily, he was bent over a file on Emily’s desk.

He seemingly felt my eyes on him as he, too, looked at me. Feeling my cheeks heat up underneath his gaze, I quickly looked away and rushed towards my best friend. I leaned my back against the door as soon as I shut it, trying to catch my breath.

“What’s gotten into you, pumpkin?” Penelope asked when she saw the state of me.

I chuckled and rolled my eyes, annoyed at myself that I let a man make me feel this way. “Not Spencer, unfortunately.” My best friend let out a loud cackle. “He gave me this note–” I placed her octopus mug in front of her before handing her the note.

“That’s vague,” she mumbled, her brows furrowed.

“Exactly what I thought,” I grumbled. “He was gone before I could even ask.”

Penelope tsked before patting the chair that had been mine for the last couple of weeks. With a sigh, I plopped down carefully so as to not spill my hot tea. For the next hour, I tried to focus on the case more than on Spencer and what I was going to say to him.

However, it was hard not to think about him.

So, once the case was wrapped up, I packed up my stuff and went out to the hall where Spencer had waited for me merely a week ago. I didn’t even bother to say goodbye to Penelope as I would be seeing her soon anyway and she knew I had to do what I had to do.

It took a couple of minutes before Spencer walked out of the bullpen, eyes focused on the phone in his hand.

“‘Meet me tonight’?” I asked, capturing his attention. His honey eyes met mine, his lips twitching into a smile. “Could you be any more vague?”

“Sorry,” he chuckled and chucked his phone into his pocket again. “I just–” he sighed, unable to finish his sentence. Another soft laugh rolled off his lips as he looked down to the squeaky-clean floor of the FBI Headquarters. He looked back up at me, his eyes tender and searching for something I didn’t even know.

“What?”

Not even bothering to answer my question, Spencer grabbed my hand and tugged me into the closest room, which happened to be the family room. As soon as the door was shut, he pushed me against the wall by kissing me, his hands on my hips to hold me in place.

“Does this set feminism back seventy years?” he asked between kisses to my lips and jaw.

My toes curled and my stomach fluttered. This was all I had been dreaming of ever since I met him that first day. I had wanted him flush against me, fingers tangling up in my hair and his tongue warm against mine.

“No,” I breathed while he worked his way down my neck in open-mouthed kisses. “But it does defy the laws of space and time.”

The words seemingly set something animalistically off in Spencer as his kisses became hungrier and his hands roamed my body in ways I had never been touched before. He gave me enough to brag to Penelope about the next day.

He gave me everything I had been dreaming of.

Everything taglist: @calamitykaty@littlemissaddict @n0wornever @wanniiieeeee @unnowhatthisistbhbh

Criminal Minds Taglist: @boimlers-gonna-boim @samsbirks@tinaasthings @dysphoricsanity @love4lando @elenamoncada-ibarra @r-3dlips @magstheslayer @astess

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds

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