#words are heavy and can hurt or heal you choose what yours do and how you handle your thoughts and the word beast

[subskz]

ʚïɞ butterfly bandage - 02

note: this is part 2 of a series (part 1, part 3, part 4, part 5)

content: bang chan/reader, university au, reader is female and referred to with she/her pronouns, themes of soulmates, slight angst, slight hurt/comfort, themes of death/grief over a friend, mentions of past unhealthy relationships, nsfw scenes

18+ content: sub chan, dom reader, soft smut, unprotected sex (no condom, but reader is on contraceptives), praise, body worship, riding, light choking, under-discussed kinks (both parties are consenting), light possessiveness, biting, teasing, lots of begging, aftercare

word count: 15.8k

You didn’t want to go home.

Final exams were just a week away, and summer break would follow soon after. For anyone else, it would bring about a much-needed relief, a moment to breathe after the grueling interim leading up to the end of the semester. For you, however, all that awaited was a looming, unshakeable sense of dread.

You hadn’t returned to your hometown for nearly six months now, choosing instead to spend all of your vacation time on campus, pouring yourself into assignments and studies far sooner and far more vigorously than required. But summer break would be an exception to this new, comfortably avoidant routine of yours. The excuse that you were busy became significantly less convincing when you had no classes to attend to, and you were certain that your parents wouldn’t let you get away with not visiting home for at least a week or two, especially when the trip was less than an hour by train.

It would be the one year anniversary soon, of the loss of your closest friend. The memory was still too fresh in your mind, the wound was still wide open and festering. You hadn’t given it proper time to heal—or, any time to heal, for that matter—instead having grown accustomed to slapping on a temporary fix and replacing it only when deemed absolutely necessary. Just enough to get by, to keep yourself together.

It wouldn’t be that easy to ignore once you returned home, though. Not even close. Every flickering streetlight, every newly blossomed tree, every crack in the sidewalk that had once been so reassuring in its familiarity, was laced with memories of her. They were memories that used to make your life brighter, warmer; like a glowing ball of light you carried around in your chest wherever you went. Now, they only stung.

The sound of your phone vibrating against the nightstand snapped you out of your brooding. You reached out aimlessly for it through the darkness of your bedroom, squinting as the harsh screen light nearly blinded you in the process.

A familiar flash of gray was all you needed to see to open the notification with embarrassing haste.

chan 🐺 (3:08 a.m.) let’s go here!

For a brief moment, you were at a loss, then, the link to a nearby bungeoppang shop followed.

chan 🐺 (3:09 a.m.) their custard is so sooo sooooooo good

chan 🐺 (3:10 a.m.) akskdnsnsksjsjsk

You were grinning before you even finished reading his messages, fondness flooding your chest in place of the heavy, melancholic fog that had been occupying it all night.

you (3:11 a.m.) yummy~ we can go during finals week as a pick me up!

chan 🐺 (3:11 a.m.) yuo’re awake,??

you (3:11 a.m.) that’s my line!

Just as you were typing out another response, your screen changed to signal Chan’s incoming call, making you scramble upright in bed. You should’ve come to expect it by now, but even so, it still felt just as new and exhilarating as the first time that wolf emoji had popped up out of the blue. Predictably unpredictable.

His greeting came the instant you picked up, oddly cheerful considering how late into the night it was.

“Hey!”

“Hi, Channie,” you said softly. “Y’know, I think I’ve got you all figured out.”

“Oh?” Chan sounded taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“You’re only a phone guy when you should be asleep.”

Confusion melted into amusement, and you could hear the grin in his voice when he replied. “Hm…maybe you’re right,” he agreed. “But what’s your excuse, then?”

You paused. “I guess I’m only a good texter when it comes to you.”

The shy giggles that filled your ears didn’t disappoint. They made you feel light, carefree; like everything that had been responsible for keeping you wide awake for the past three hours was suddenly so trivial in the face of his laughter.

“So, what are you up to?” you asked.

“Trying to trick myself to fall asleep,” he said it like a joke, but you could feel the weariness behind his words. It tugged at your emotions in a way that you knew all too well. The urge to help him, to take care of him.

Your heart welcomed it, but your mind rejected it, and you were more keen on letting the latter call the shots these days. So, as naturally as it came, you pushed it away.

“By thinking about bungeoppang?”

Another giggle. “Well, more like thinking about things I wanna do with you.”

You held your breath to avoid letting a reaction slip out, but there was no way to repress the butterflies that fluttered to life in your stomach. Thankfully, Chan didn’t seem to notice. It was the one thing about you he could never quite catch, like his obliviousness to his own charm stood in the way of an otherwise razor-sharp intuition.

“How about you? What’s got you awake?”

You could clearly envision the attentive eyes and curious head tilt accompanying his question. It almost made you want to answer without restraint, to share all the thoughts that you’d been needlessly torturing yourself with for days now, rotating over and over in your head until they snowballed into something out of your control.

You stopped yourself just in time. He didn’t need to hear something like that at this hour—or, ever, really.

“Just thinking about the summer.” It wasn’t entirely a lie, and you hoped it’d be enough to get past his scrutiny.

“Oh!” he chirped. “Are you excited?”

Absolutely not. “Kinda,” you were grateful he couldn’t see your expression. “More excited about it than finals, anyway.”

“It’ll be fine!” he said confidently. “Just two more weeks, and we’re free, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you smiled. “I’m gonna miss our study sessions.”

Chan had switched from the astrophysics track after his spring semester of senior year—cutting it close was an understatement—so any classes you’d be taking for your final term in the fall would be completely new territory for him. You didn’t doubt for a second that he might try to continue tutoring you and Changbin regardless, but after finding out how hard he’d been pushing himself to help you with subjects that he already had experience with, you couldn’t in good conscience allow him to do that to himself again.

Not that you needed the study sessions as an excuse to see him anymore, but still, you felt strangely wistful about it.

“Me too,” he hummed, as if his mind had drifted to the same place. “That reminds me, you left your sweater here the other day.”

“Oh! I didn’t even notice.”

“You must’ve been distracted by something,” he sang.

You let your chuckle slip out this time, more than ready to indulge him. “Well, there was this really cute boy there. Do you think he’d be willing to give it back to me?”

“Ah…” his attempt at teasing you backfired so spectacularly that he went silent for a moment. “He was cute? I don’t believe you.”

“Cute enough to kiss,” you confirmed.

You registered a sudden rustling sound on the other line, followed by the faintest squeak, as if he were physically unable to contain his giddiness. The thought of it nearly had you burying your face in your pillow yourself. You wished you could see him.

“Then,” he swallowed. “He might give it back to you, for a kiss.”

The memory of his lips on yours washed over you all at once, so vividly that you could even recall how his soft cheeks had felt cupped in your palms and how his shaky breath had fanned over your skin.

“Is that a promise?” You held out your pinky in the darkness. It buzzed with warmth, and you wondered briefly if he was mirroring your action on his end, or if it was just the lingering heat that he’d left on you.

“Promise,” he breathed.

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

The final lecture of PHYS 408: Thermodynamics and Statistical Mechanics, more or less went exactly as you had predicted. No review for the final exam, no rundown of what to expect, and certainly no heartfelt announcement from Dr. Choi, letting you all know what a joy of a section you’d been to teach. If it weren't for the date and time of the exam scribbled on the whiteboard behind him, you might’ve thought he’d forgotten about it altogether.

He’d droned on for the first hour of class, delivering your last lesson of the semester with the same perpetual stiffness as day one, then had so generously granted the remaining 15 minutes as free time for studying amongst yourselves. Changbin appeared ready to bolt the moment the words left your professor’s mouth, but you’d stubbornly convinced him to stay just a bit longer and study with you. It was more for his sake than anything else, considering he’d only attended one of the two final exam reviews with Chan.

Changbin, it seemed, had other plans, as he hadn’t let a minute pass by without getting distracted from the task at hand and trying to start a conversation with you.

“By the way, you'll be at the get-together won’t you? Before the summer ends.”

You looked up from your notes, already sensing some kind of trap being set up.

“And by get-together you mean…?”

Changbin’s lips curved into a sheepish half-smile; caught, even with his careful phrasing.

“Well, I guess it’s more of a party.”

You made a face. You’d been to a handful of parties the past three years of your university experience, each one having been more unpleasant and suffocating than the last.

“I’m not sure, Bin. Not really my scene, y’know?”

“It’ll be your scene if I'm there, trust me.” Changbin lifted his head with a grin, and you might have rolled your eyes if his overblown confidence wasn’t so endearing.

“Uh-huh,” you played along. “Now I'm just itching to go.”

“Doesn’t the bond we’ve built these past months mean anything to you?” he whined. “It could be our last chance to really hang out!”

“It’s not like we’re dying, Seo Changbin,” you said, unimpressed. “I know for a fact that you’re taking the same Experimental Physics section as me next semester because we both put it off.”

Changbin clicked his tongue, shutting his book dramatically—which made no difference, really, considering he hadn’t read a single line of text from it. “Alright, fine. You’ve made it clear how little you value our friendship today.”

Just when you thought he’d accepted defeat, he continued.

“And of course,” a devious glint crossed his eyes. “It wouldn’t change your mind if I told you a certain friend of mine was coming?”

Ah. Despite your vigilance, it appeared you’d fallen right into his trap anyway.

“A certain friend?” you echoed. It came casual, but inside, your mind was swarming with countless possibilities. You hadn’t yet told Changbin about everything that had transpired between you and Chan, and you weren’t sure if Chan had mentioned anything to him either. The issue wasn’t so much that you were afraid of how Changbin would react, it was more about preparing yourself to deal with the theatrics of it all, the internal battle between horror and smugness that was sure to ensue inside him; because, on one hand, he’d been right, but on the other hand, he’d been right.

You could already picture it: scolding and teasing all at once, “I leave you alone with my best friend for one night and you kiss him!?”

You would never hear the end of it.

“A certain Bang Chan,” he elaborated, looking a bit disappointed when you didn’t give him the reaction he’d hoped for.

Knowing that Chan would be there admittedly piqued your interest, but not in the way Changbin seemed to think. You were more so curious as to what would draw him into such an environment—if he would be in his element, or awkwardly out of place. He was a social butterfly, sure, with a friends list that could probably fill up your entire Theoretical Methods notebook, but even so, a college party just wasn’t the kind of pastime you’d imagined him to indulge in all that much.

Still, you could be wrong. You simultaneously felt like you knew so much about Chan, yet so little. It was like you could envision the completed puzzle of him in your mind, but still didn’t quite have all the pieces in your hand.

With a start, you realized that Changbin might mistake your silence for something else, and you forced out a response before he could get too suspicious.

“Chan’s going?” you asked. “Is that his kind of thing?”

“Hm…not usually,” he tapped your pencil against the tabletop, as if it required deep thought. “At least, he’s not big on drinking and all that.”

The surge of satisfaction you felt in being correct came so strong that you were almost taken aback. It went hand in hand with that ever-present desire to know him, every part of him, better than anyone else.

“So, what’s the occasion, then? Because I know you’re not exactly a party animal yourself, Mr. Principles.”

“I’m the life of any party I go to.” He said it so seriously that you couldn’t help but snort, earning you a defensive swat to the shoulder.

“But, you do have a point,” he admitted once your giggles had died down. “It is sort of a special occasion.”

You leaned in, fully immersed now. He was being uncharacteristically roundabout today, and when that signature, shy smirk crept up on his face, you knew there was definitely something else brewing under the surface.

“It’s an event for the student music organization here on campus, so we get to do a little showcase.”

Your eyes widened. “We? As in 3RACHA?”

He simply beamed, the look of pride on his face speaking for itself.

“Bin! Are you serious!?”

For once, you were the one turning heads in you and Changbin’s direction, but you couldn’t find it in you to feel self-conscious about your outburst. “Like, a live performance?”

He wiggled in his spot, clearly basking in your excitement. “Just one song, but, yeah.”

“Still, that’s amazing!” you piped. “You should’ve just said that from the beginning, you know I’ll go if it means seeing you perform.”

“I know,” he scrunched up his nose, the embarrassment finally starting to get to him. “But I didn’t wanna flaunt. Modesty is key, after all.”

You shot him an amused look. “Is that one of your principles?”

“The most important one,” he said proudly.

Though you were less than enthused about attending a party of that magnitude, in that moment you felt nothing but delight bubbling up in your chest; for Changbin, for yourself, for Chan. You wondered what his reaction to the news had been like, if he’d broken out into that thousand-watt smile of barely-contained glee, or if the prospect of sharing his music in front of so many people had reduced him to a panicked mess, scrambling to get everything in order to put on the best performance possible.

The clock struck 9:15 a.m. to signal the end of your final lecture period. Naturally, you and Changbin hadn’t gotten any studying done, with his little announcement serving as the nail in the coffin for your motivation to work. As you gathered up your belongings and rose from your chair, an unexpected wave of nostalgia overtook you. It was likely the last time you’d be sitting in it, given that even the most absent of students would be showing up on the day of the final and taking any spot they could find. In a weird way, you were going to miss it. Some of your most miserable recollections from the semester were associated with it—stress, exhaustion, confusion, pressure—but it had brought about some of your most cherished moments as well; some of your most cherished people.

Changbin seemed to notice the sentimental expression on your face, and he gave you a gentle nudge as you strolled together out of the classroom.

“A lot has changed since that first day, huh?”

“Yeah,” you let your shoulder bump against his. “It has.”

You hoped, desperately, that it was the start of something better.

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

In the end, you and Chan hadn’t been able to line your schedules up even once throughout finals week to make room for your bungeoppang date. Amidst the storm of projects, presentations, exams, and papers, the two of you barely found time in the day to fulfill basic necessities, let alone to hang out with one another. You were particularly worried about the self-care situation on his end, already well-acquainted with his tendency to neglect his health whenever he was swamped. All you could do was send short, uplifting messages every few days, encouraging him to get some rest before the sun came up.

The dangling promise of fish-shaped bread (and, of course, the boy that came with it) had carried you through the week more than you’d like to admit, and by the time your last exam of the semester came around, your patience was on its last legs. You turned in your Astronomical Techniques test with plenty of time to spare, scurrying out of the lecture hall and making your way to the campus gym as quickly as your feet would allow.

Pushing open the doors to the natatorium where you and Chan had agreed to meet, you were immediately hit with the stinging scent of chlorine and thunderous sound of overlapping splashes. You scanned over the area in search of his familiar face, overwhelmed by the sea of identical swim caps. When you spotted him at last, he wasn’t emerging from the locker room like you’d expected him to be—freshly showered and, most importantly, clothed. No, instead, your eyes landed on him just in time to witness him rising from the pool, muscular arms hoisting his body up the ledge and sending streams of water cascading down his broad shoulders and back.

You froze, too mesmerized by the sight to even think about looking away before he could notice you. He pulled his swim cap off along with his goggles, shaking his wet curls free and confirming that it was, in fact, Bang Christopher Chan standing shirtless before you.

It was almost laughable, how your heartbeat picked up to an alarming speed, hammering faster in your chest the more you studied his figure. The full curve of his pecs, the toned ridges of his abdomen, the lean dip in his waist, disappearing into his swim trunks. His skin was glistening and almost annoyingly untouched. You wanted to sully it, to leave it marked up and littered with traces of you.

A sudden squeak of your name snapped you back to your senses. With how intensely you’d been staring, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise to you that Chan’s head would whip around in your direction, as if he could physically feel the holes your gaze had been burning into his skin.

“Y-you’re here!” he stammered. A part of you wondered if he might’ve done this on purpose, secretly hoping for you to find him like this when he’d suggested that you meet up with him after practice. But, judging by the way he shrank into himself, arms flying up to cross over his chest at the speed of light, he was just as mortified as you were.

You took a breath, forcing yourself to get it together. “I guess I finished my exam earlier than I thought,” your voice sounded steady, at least. “Sorry for sneaking up on you.”

Chan shifted his weight from side to side, eyes darting between you and the floor. “No worries,” he chuckled awkwardly. You made a point to avoid looking anywhere but his face for the sake of his comfort, but the way his ears had flushed a very obvious shade of red was just as distracting, if not more.

He cleared his throat. “Uh, we’re done for the day, anyway. I just gotta shower, then I’m all yours!”

You wished he hadn’t phrased it like that. “Sure, take your time.”

You managed a quick smile, turning towards the bench on the far end of the pool so he could walk to the locker rooms without worrying about covering himself up.

As if that whole altercation hadn’t been embarrassing enough already, it took the entirety of the ten minutes he spent in the shower for the adrenaline rushing through your veins to finally ebb.

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

“I can’t believe you just did that.”

It was the first time you’d ever really heard Chan whine—childish and pouty in a way that could give even Changbin a run for his money.

You giggled triumphantly, waving the bungeoppang in his face to really rub it in.

Chan had made the grave mistake of offhandedly telling you what he planned to order as the two of you chatted on the way to the shop, and when he’d whispered to you that he was going to run to the bathroom as you were studying the menu, the opportunity that presented itself was just too perfect for you to pass up.

Instead of waiting, you’d lined up on your own, praying that you would make it before he returned. In the end, you’d succeeded, ordering for him and yourself and paying for both portions just in the nick of time, much to his horror.

“This upset over my first win?” you taunted. “I didn’t know you were so competitive, Channie.”

He huffed, pressing his lips together in a way that made his cheeks swell. The good-natured twinkle in his eyes remained, however, and he eventually accepted the pastry in defeat. “Still, thank you.”

You softened. “Of course. It’s the least I could do.”

The two of you slipped into the nearest booth, settling in across from each other. Chan looked ready to devour his order within seconds of sitting down, but before he could, you reached out, bungeoppang in hand, as if proposing a toast.

“Here’s to getting through finals alive,” you declared.

He grinned, tapping his bread against yours. “Cheers!”

You bit into your share, the light crispness of the crust blending perfectly with its filling. Chan had been right about this place’s custard; the way its flavor flooded your tongue was nothing short of heavenly.

“Oh my God,” you mumbled. “This is so good.”

He let out a blissful hum of agreement. You glanced up to find him already halfway done with his share, cheeks stuffed and lips puckered as he chewed happily away. A stray drop of custard had stuck to the corner of his mouth, right next to the curve of his dimple, and it took everything in you not to lean in and kiss him right then and there.

Chan’s eyes fluttered open as he swallowed his massive mouthful, and you straightened up in your spot, trying to pretend like you hadn’t just been daydreaming about eating custard off of his face.

“By the way,” you began. “Changbin told me you guys are performing at the end of the summer?”

“Ah…” he brought his bungeoppang up to his nose, like he hoped to disappear behind it. “Yeah, seems like it. It’s not a big deal, though, really.”

“It is! I wish you’d told me, I definitely don’t wanna miss it.”

His gaze peeked up above the half-eaten bread, and you might’ve thought he was just playing coy if the look in his eyes wasn’t so adorably hopeful, searching your expression for a sincere show of interest.

“Really?”

“Of course,” you said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Plus, Bin would never let me live it down if I did.”

“True,” he grinned. “Would you believe me if I said I wanted to tell you?”

“Oh?”

“I was just kinda embarrassed about it,” he chuckled. “Dunno if I’d be able to face you after.”

Something about the way he said it nearly made you melt. How very like him, to feel self-conscious about performing in front of you before it’d even happened. Unable to help yourself any longer, you reached forward and brushed your thumb along the edge of his lips, scooping up the drop of custard—though, really, it was just an excuse to touch him.

Chan looked caught off guard for a moment, fingers flexing around the pastry in his hand. Then, the smile was back on his face, even wider this time.

“You’re so cute,” you murmured. “If you say that, it just makes me wanna see you more, y’know.”

He reached up to fiddle with his piercing, both dimples now on full display. “Will you be back in town by then?”

“I’m gonna be here for most of the break, actually,” you confessed.

His eyes lit up. “You serious?”

You nodded, praying he wouldn’t ask you to elaborate.

“So am I!” he beamed. “I’m doing an independent study, so I won’t have the chance to go home.”

It dawned on you for the first time that Chan’s family was, in fact, still living in Australia while he attended university. You hadn’t even considered the possibility that he might not be visiting them over the summer. That same, familiar ache touched your heart again—it must get lonely for him. Here you were, purposely avoiding your hometown at all costs, when he was likely longing for his.

“Oh no,” you frowned. “Not even for a short trip?”

“Nah.” He waved his hand, seemingly unaffected. “But it’s alright. I’ve got you, and my buddy Felix will be here for a while, too.”

Felix. Another name you’d heard thrown around by Chan and Changbin on more than one occasion. He was yet another junior that Chan had managed to befriend somehow, and, just like him, he’d grown up in Australia. It eased your mind a bit, knowing that he and Chan at least had each other when everyone else was home for the holidays.

“But what about you?” He cocked his head. “Any reason you’re staying?”

The dreaded question. This time, you couldn’t depend on the safety of a phone call to keep him from gauging your reaction.

“I just prefer it here, I guess.” You picked at the paper wrapping of your bread, hoping to sound nonchalant. “There’s some stuff I don’t wanna deal with back home. But, knowing my parents, I’ll probably still go for a week or so.”

Suddenly, the look on his face wasn’t quite so bright. It was subtle, just a fleeting crack in his typically bubbly demeanor, but not lost on you. Whether it was the mention of your parents or your vaguely cynical response that had brought about such a strange reaction, you weren’t sure, but you berated yourself for being responsible for dampening his mood, even if it was short-lived.

“I get that,” he said softly. “Let’s have a good time here together, yeah?”

Chan didn’t speak any further on the topic, but somehow, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he resonated with what you’d said more than he was letting on.

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

Three days into your visit back home, you came to fully accept the fact that you were in way over your head.

From the moment you’d stepped off the train, hit with that warm, familiar air, tinged with the scent of pine, you could already feel it picking away at you. The trip from the station to your house, which you’d stubbornly chosen to make by foot, was full of bittersweet sights, sounds, and smells that had shaped you growing up, with each one tugging your seams loose just a little bit more. It felt akin to whiplash, a harsh dive into the deep end of reality after the past month you’d spent with Chan, stuck in a giddy haze.

Thanks to him, the harsh sting of summer had become more of a dull ache, not quite fading altogether, but soothed into something more manageable, at least. With Iseul, Changbin, and all your other friends returning home for vacation, you’d breezed through the entirety of June almost exclusively in Chan’s company. More often than not, Felix would join in as well, making for an unexpectedly pleasant dynamic among the three of you. You’d taken a liking to the boy in no time—it was impossible not to, when he had a smile like the sun and an infectious sort of vitality that brought joy to even the simplest of activities. He was a bit more reserved than Chan, at least around you, but he had a similar kind of warmth, the kind that was sure to enamor anyone he crossed paths with.

Between movie nights (more superhero movies than you’d ever thought existed), day trips to the beach (with Chan, thankfully, taking your sanity into account and wearing a tank top at all times), and far too many baking sessions (some successful, most failed), what you’d initially feared to be a month of nothing but heat and misery had turned out to be some of the best weeks of your life.

It was only natural, of course, that the universe would follow them up with a week that was carefully crafted to send all that happiness you’d built toppling unceremoniously to the ground.

The pit of guilt you’d felt in your stomach about avoiding home for so long increased tenfold with every comment from your parents and relatives, joking about how you were too busy, too good for your family to waste time on them anymore. You almost wanted to be upset, because you knew they knew. But you also knew that they meant well. In their minds, they were doing you a favor by not addressing it, not daring to so much as utter your friend’s name around you. It was much easier to pretend like everything was okay. That was what you’d been doing for the past year, after all.

Still, no matter how hard you wished you could ignore it, the pesky, human desire for seeking solace in others persisted. You needed to release, to lift the top off the pressure cooker you’d kept so tightly sealed for so long.

You needed to talk to someone. But the only person in the world who you could’ve opened up to about losing her, was her.

Your thumb lingered over Chan’s contact, now on your fourth minute of debating whether or not you should throw caution to the wind and call him. You wanted to hear his voice rambling on, his absent-minded humming of whichever song was stuck in his head that day, his laughter.

With a deep inhale, you swiped out of your phone app, opening up your messages instead.

you (8:13 a.m.) hey it’s been a minute! how are u?

A response, almost immediately.

iseul 🪷 (8:13 a.m.) awful horrible miserable

you (8:14 a.m.) hello??? what’s going on?

iseul 🪷 (8:14 a.m.) family is driving me crazy and i hate men i also might be fired???? idk yet

You frowned, trying to process the unfortunate string of messages unfolding on your screen. You didn’t think it was possible for anyone to be having a worse time than you right now. It brought you back to your senses, reminded you of your place. Self-pity never suited you, anyway. Your sympathy was much better off reserved for others.

you (8:15 a.m.) oh my god? do you want to talk?

iseul 🪷 (8:15 a.m.) ugh yes i’ll ft you later at a family gathering rn 🤢 hate it here

you (8:16 a.m.) we’re in the same boat remember the right answer to every question is that ur focusing on ur studies

iseul 🪷 (8:16 a.m.) literally gonna be using that one all day ugh literally kill me

you (8:17 a.m.) being nosey is just how they show their love~

iseul 🪷 (8:17 a.m.) they should show their love a little less

you (8:18 a.m.) lmaoo

you (8:19 a.m.) btw do you still want me to look over that paper for your grad school app?

iseul 🪷 (8:19 a.m.) omg….. omfg yes i totally forgot omfg i’ll send it to u when i’m free pls read it fix it make me sound smarter

With the way Iseul was typing a mile a minute, you were certain you’d be in for an earful when you talked to her later. Strangely enough, it lifted a bit of weight off your shoulders. Maybe you could focus on reviewing her essay and offering her advice on the many, many issues she seemed to be facing as a way to take your mind off the growing itch in your skin.

That was all you had to do, really. Make yourself useful, keep yourself preoccupied with something at all times until you could return to campus and restart the process of tucking away every memory associated with the previous summer from scratch.

It was just a matter of holding yourself together. Just one more week.

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

In the back of your mind, you couldn’t help but think that a day like this one shouldn’t be quite so sunny.

The sky was bright and spotless, an endless expanse of soft blue without so much as a single cloud daring to interfere. Some might say it was a good omen, a sign that you were being watched over with a smile, but to you, it almost felt like a taunt.

Still, the nice weather at least meant that your walk to the cemetery wouldn’t be met with any unexpected rain. Your mother had offered—or demanded, rather—to drive you if you weren’t going to drive yourself, so as not to keep your friends waiting; but much to her exasperation, you’d refused. You had an important stop to make along the way, anyway, one that both fueled your apprehension, and eased it.

It had officially been a year now. A year since you’d lost your best friend, a year since you’d ended your relationship, a year since your sense of self had become muddled. Nothing in the city felt like home, anymore. It had belonged to the both of you, and with her gone, there was nothing left for you.

A sudden call of your name nearly made you jump out of your skin. You looked up from the concrete, shocked to find that you’d zoned out long enough to have reached your destination without even processing it. Your eyes raked over the worn-down stand, once a pure, striking white, now chipped and rusted with age. Still, it brought a smile to your face, the first real one since you’d arrived home.

“Is that really you, kid?”

Steeling yourself, you lifted your head fully to face the man before you. He looked the same as ever, albeit with a bit less hair on his head, but his kind eyes and jovial smile hadn’t changed one bit, they never did.

“Hello, Uncle Geun,” you greeted. “How have you been?”

Gruff, booming laughter met your ears, and you were pulled into a bone-crushing hug before you knew it. The smell of his colorful apron, musky from the heat, but not unpleasant, sent a wave of sentimentality crashing over you. It took everything in you not to tear up the moment it touched your senses.

He was a man that had watched you grow up, in the truest sense of the words. Over a decade ago, on this very street, you’d rounded the corner with a bit too much energy on your way to school, slamming into another little girl and sending you both toppling onto the unforgiving sidewalk. You’d managed to come out of it with just a skidded palm, but she, on the other hand, was bawling the instant she’d recovered from the initial impact.

Even as a child, you’d gotten the feeling that she was being a bit too dramatic about it all, sobbing about how her knees hurt and how her new jumper was ruined. Regardless, your stomach twisted with guilt, and when you saw that your apologies weren’t getting through to her, you’d done the first thing your little mind could think of, scurrying over to the nearby flower vendor and asking if he could spare you a gift for her. His smile had been just as grand back then as it was now, his laughter just as boisterous as he picked a chrysanthemum from his stock and handed it to you.

The second you’d shoved the round, yellow flower in her face, her crying came to an immediate halt, tears drying up and sniffles dying down, as if on cue. She accepted it with a smile as bright as the flower itself, pulling off a few petals for you when she noticed the scrapes on your hand.

You’d continued the walk to school side by side, and by the end of the day, the two of you had come to a mutual agreement that you were now, officially, best friends.

You blinked rapidly, hoping your expression wouldn't betray you when Uncle Geun finally pulled away from the hug.

“It’s good to see you,” he beamed. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

“That’s all you, Uncle. Even the flowers are jealous.”

Another raspy burst of laughter. “Clever as always.”

“Maybe that college education is worth something,” you joked.

His grin grew impossibly wider, silver tooth gleaming in the sunlight. “We’ve all missed you,” he said. “Doesn’t really feel like the summertime without the sight of you walking around the city with—”

He cut himself off at just the right instant. You felt a light pang in your chest, but you forced yourself to keep smiling.

“Well,” he cleared his throat. “You girls were always a joy.”

“We had a lot of great memories because of you,” you replied quietly.

An uncharacteristically somber look crossed his face, and your eyes fell back to the ground.

“So, what’ll it be, today?” he began, trying to put the pep back in his voice. “Don’t tell me you’re just here to give the old man a visit.”

“Chrysanthemums, please,” you requested. “They’re for her.”

You unzipped your bag, reaching in to pull out your wallet. Before you could even prepare your payment, however, his calloused hand rested over yours, shooing it away.

“This one’s on the house.”

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

You never made it to the cemetery.

However necessary it had felt for you to visit the flower stand and see Uncle Geun, the toll it took on your state of mind was far heavier than you’d ever anticipated—and you’d anticipated. Your conversation with him had left you disoriented, a strange ache pulsing through your body. Whether grief or nostalgia was at its core, you weren’t sure.

With blurry vision, you’d texted your friends that you wouldn’t be able to make it and returned home, clutching the bouquet of flowers close to your chest. In a matter of twenty minutes, you gathered up all your belongings, tossed them into your hardly unpacked suitcase, and arranged to take the first train back home. Your new home, the one that felt right for all the wrong reasons.

Despite your parents’ adamant protests, you stood by your decision to leave. You promised to make it up to them with another visit, and after almost an hour of arguing, the hollowness of your voice finally seemed to get through to them. Disapproving but ultimately understanding, they’d quietly allowed you to go.

The train ride was a blur. You didn’t remember much of it, and only when you approached the front door of your apartment at last did you feel the fog in your head begin to clear just a bit. As you dug around for your keys, you realized for the first time how stiff your hand had become. You’d kept it wrapped tightly around the chrysanthemums for the entire trip home, not loosening your death grip even once.

The heavy sigh of relief you let out as you stepped into your apartment was cut short when you registered an unexpected figure standing near the window. Even in all your shock, you didn’t have the energy to call out louder than your usual volume.

“Chan?”

His reaction was priceless, yelping in fear and spinning around at a breakneck speed. You were lucky that he at least managed to avoid dropping the watering can in his hand and send it crashing to the floor.

“Y-you’re here!?”

The fact that it sounded like a genuine question when you were standing right in front of him shouldn’t have endeared you so much. You placed down your bags, praying that your exhaustion wasn’t as obvious as it felt.

“Surprise,” you nearly cringed at how weak it came out.

In all your turmoil, you’d completely forgotten that Chan had offered to water your plants for you while you were gone. Though, to be fair, even if you had remembered, you wouldn’t have expected to stumble in on him doing so at near midnight.

“Welcome back!” His face broke out into a radiant smile. It felt more like home than anything you’d experienced the past week. “Are those new flowers for me to water?”

Despite everything, you smiled back at him, placing the bouquet on your countertop and padding over to him. He opened his arms in an instant, and you fell into them, squeezing him tighter than was probably necessary and earning a cute, tiny grunt.

“Thank you, Channie,” you simply said. His warmth enveloped you and his scent wafted over you, freshly-washed laundry and the fading, sweet citrus of his cologne. “It’s good to see you.”

“I missed you,” he sucked in hesitantly through his teeth before continuing. “But, is everything alright? I thought you still had another few days.”

“Yeah. Just a little change of plans,” hoping to lighten the mood, you added, “Guess I can’t be kept away from you for too long.”

You knew he wouldn’t buy the excuse, but he giggled anyway, shoulders vibrating against you as the melodic sound graced your ears. A part of you had initially been horrified by the prospect of Chan catching you like this, but now, all you felt was an overwhelming sense of calm.

Reluctantly, you pulled back to face him. His eyes were drowsy—nothing new there—but there was a healthy complexion to his skin. He looked just a bit tanner than the last time you’d seen him; he must’ve spent a lot of his free time at the beach.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here,” he didn’t let go of you, even after the hug had ended. “Felix will be, too. Pretty sure he secretly thinks you’re a better baking assistant than me.”

You let out a hum of amusement. “Can’t say I blame him when you steal all the chocolate chips.”

He puckered his lips into a pout. Not truly upset, but enough for you to lean in and press an apologetic kiss to them. You would’ve taken any opportunity to do so, anyway.

His breath caught in his throat—you’d quickly learned that it was inevitable, no matter how many times you kissed him—but he returned it instantly, melting into you like he’d been itching to do from the second you’d arrived. It was something you hadn’t fully adjusted to yet, how impossibly soft his lips were. They demanded all of your attention in their fullness, moving against yours with a timid sort of vigor.

You hadn’t expected it to be more than just a light peck, but once you’d gotten a taste of him, of his warmth, you couldn’t help yourself. It was his fault, you decided, for diving into you with such unabashed eagerness. Your teeth grazed delicately along his lower lip, and he opened his mouth to let out a sweet, airy sigh.

The feeling that you’d so narrowly escaped on the night you’d first kissed him took hold of you yet again, so strong in its grip that you worried you may not be able to ignore it this time. Your hands roamed down to his abdomen, brushing over it just enough to feel the outline of his muscles beneath his clothes. You remembered the sight of him in the natatorium that day—toned stomach and soft hips, smooth, irresistible skin that looked like it hadn’t been marked a day in his life. You wanted all of it, all of him.

Chan angled his head to further deepen the kiss, nose bumping against yours in the process. You felt his lips curve into a shy smile, and another sound escaped him, almost like a squeak.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed when you finally found it in you to break the kiss. When his eyes blinked open, he looked adorably lost, gaze falling right back down to your lips as if to ask why you’d stopped. He swayed just barely under your hands, and you strengthened your hold on his waist to steady him.

“You look like you’re about to fall over, Channie,” you teased.

“Sorry,” he chuckled breathlessly. “My heart’s kinda racing.”

It was such a sincere admission, so simple and honest. Even if you couldn’t already tell what he was thinking on your own, he wore his heart on his sleeve. Or rather, he held it out in his hands, offering it up to you.

You let go of his waist to lock your fingers with his. You’d grown used to the heat by now, but everything else you were feeling in that moment made it burn just as much as the first time you’d touched him. With just a light tug at his arm, he was following you to your bedroom, clutching your hand a little tighter.

“Is this better?” you asked, settling down on the bed with him.

He ducked his head, too flustered to respond. Playfully, you lifted two fingers and placed them on his neck, as if to check his pulse. You pressed down into his skin, and he nearly gasped. If it hadn’t been racing before, it certainly was now.

“I-it’s been a while,” he meekly tried to explain.

Given how his body reacted to your every little touch, you had no trouble believing it. You couldn’t deny how much it excited you, too. He was such a sweet boy; you felt a need, a hunger, to see the most intimate parts of him, to see what pleasure and vulnerability and desperation might look like on such an angelic face. You wanted to make him a part of you, to engulf him and protect him, to take on his emotions and forget about yours.

Driven by a newfound urgency, you all but crashed back into him. He met your fire with equal enthusiasm, parting his lips to let your tongue slide against his—hot and wet in a way that made the both of you shiver. Your hands began roaming again, feeling up the broad expanse of his shoulders, his chest, his arms. You palmed and squeezed at them to your heart’s content, as if to make sure the moment was real, to make sure he was real. It was still hard to fathom, that the man you’d been dreaming about for almost three months now was here in your bed.

You trailed further down in your touch, fingers sliding under his loose shirt and palms flattening against his skin. Suddenly, Chan tensed, retreating from the kiss just enough to speak, but still close enough that his lips brushed against yours with every word.

“W-wait,” he stuttered out. “I don’t…I didn’t…”

You paused, fearing for a moment that you’d misread the situation. He had said it’d been a while, after all. Maybe he wasn’t ready. Maybe he wasn’t used to moving this fast; you certainly weren’t.

“Is something wrong?”

“I don’t have protection,” he warned quietly. “I-I didn’t think…”

Despite every cell in your body crying out in protest, you pulled back to get a proper look at him. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide and putting his longing on full display for you to see.

He seemed to be struggling with getting his sentence out, so you guessed for him. “You didn’t think this would happen?”

He averted his eyes. “Just…didn’t wanna assume anything.”

Cute, cute, cute. He was so painfully cute.

“I’m protected,” you reassured him. “You don’t have to worry.”

Even if he had brought contraceptives, against your better judgment, you weren’t quite sure if you’d be content with using them. You wanted all of him, skin on skin, every inch. Nothing else would satisfy the burn, the ache that had been burgeoning inside you since the day you’d first met him.

“You don’t have to worry about a thing,” you pressed your forehead against his. “Let me take care of you, Channie.”

The sound he made in response, low and needy in his throat, set something off in you. Miraculously, you managed to prevent yourself from digging your nails into his stomach, just to relieve some of the tension that was consuming your body at an alarming rate.

Instead, you took his chin between your fingers, tilting it up. “Is that okay with you?”

Chan swallowed, so hard that you could see his adam’s apple bob in his throat. “Yeah,” he breathed. “I c-can pull out. Just tell me when, please, and I’ll listen.”

He said it so earnestly that you pressed your thighs together. You had no plans to tell him, and you got the feeling he understood that from the look in your eyes alone.

“You’re good at listening, aren’t you?” you cooed.

He nodded, eyes squeezing shut when your hand came to cradle his head. “I’ll be good for you,” he mustered up the courage to say it, grateful for the lack of eye contact. “Whatever you want, I’ll do it.”

Good for you. The words made your heart sing. He was already so good for you just existing. He was perfect for you.

“Whatever I want?” you brushed your thumb up and down his cheek. “Everything I want is already right in front of me.”

A blush crept up on his face, dusting it that unmistakable rosy shade that was so Chan. You felt his skin heating up as he nuzzled into your palm with a flustered laugh, and you took the opportunity to gently guide him down, resting his back against the bed. With bated breath, he watched you come to hover above him, his hands bunching nervously at the bedsheets. You slipped your fingers back under his shirt and began tugging it up his torso. He stiffened, but still raised himself slightly off the mattress to allow you to pull off the garment.

The moment your eyes landed on his bare upper body, he was looking away again, chest rising and falling rapidly in anticipation. You rested a hand over his left pec, feeling up the defined muscle and his heartbeat along with it.

“Beautiful,” you murmured.

Chan stammered out something that sounded vaguely like a protest, but he didn’t have the chance to finish before you were leaning down and pressing a kiss to his neck. His response was immediate, tilting his head and baring his skin to you. Your mouth traveled along his jawline and down the column of his throat, sucking and nibbling at every spot you touched. By the time you reached his collarbones, he was already squirming in barely-concealed want beneath you, and you stole a glance at him to find him biting down hard on his lip in restraint.

“You’re so beautiful, Channie,” you dragged your teeth along the curve of his chest, and his hips shot up into you. “I can’t believe I get to see you like this.”

“Please,” he buried his face in his hands. It was adorable, but not as adorable as the sight of embarrassment and pleasure twisting his features. So, you rested your hands over his and pulled them away, pinning his muscular arms above his head and rendering them powerless.

“You said you’d do whatever I want, right?” you began. “So, no hiding.”

His eyes glazed over with lust, so taken by how exposed he felt below you that he almost forgot to nod.

“And,” you continued, lowering yourself to speak right into his ear. “No holding back, okay? I know you have a pretty voice, let me hear it.”

“I…” for a second, he appeared at a loss for words. “O-okay.”

“Good boy,” you let go of his hands, dragging your fingers lightly down his biceps and watching him shudder. You readjusted your position to resume your earlier ministrations, kissing down the valley of his chest and fighting the temptation to sink your teeth into it—hard. You wanted nothing more than to leave his skin red and bruised and blossoming with love bites, but you knew you probably shouldn’t when any marks you made would be clear as day to his teammates during swim practice. Instead, you settled for pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses along his body, grazing his skin with your teeth just enough to appease yourself without leaving a lasting trace. The softness of your lips pressed against the lean ridges of his abs, making for a contrast that neither of you could get enough of.

“Such a pretty baby,” you mumbled, licking a stripe down his stomach and feeling his muscles contract under your tongue. “My pretty baby boy.”

It slipped out like an instinct, and before you could stop to wonder if it may be too much for Chan, a long, shaky moan met your ears.

Oh. He was loud.

Suddenly, his frantic attempts to suppress himself made perfect sense. You had a feeling that he hadn’t let completely loose yet, either. Heat pooled in your stomach at the thought of what kind of noises you could draw out of him. You couldn’t wait much longer.

“Do you like that? Baby boy?” you asked sweetly. Chan raised his hips off the mattress as your fingers danced delicately along his sides, soothing and exciting him all at once.

“M-mhm.” It was all he could get out without making another mortifying sound.

“Tell me what you like,” you swirled your tongue around his belly button, slowly approaching his v-line. “Tell me what feels good.”

“All of it,” he gasped. “All of you.”

You smiled against his skin, and your lips found the waistband of his shorts, allowing you to see for the first time just how much he meant it. You’d been so focused on attending to his upper half that you hadn’t even thought about the state of him down there. He was hard, fully hard. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was leaking in his underwear by now. It almost made you feel a tinge of guilt, leaving him neglected for so long; but his building desire was palpable, and it fed into your arousal like nothing else.

Mischievously, you gave his bulge a kittenish lick. Chan all but jolted, hand flying over his mouth a moment too late to mask his hiccup.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, angel,” you promised, fingers dipping under the elastic of his waistband. “So good, you won’t be able to think about anything else.”

“Oh, God,” he whimpered. “Need you.”

“I’m right here, Channie,” you pulled his shorts down in one go, removing his underwear along with them. He hissed through his teeth as the air hit his exposed length, cooling the drops of precum that had dribbled from his tip. Carefully, you took him into your hand, licking your lips when you felt him throb at the contact.

“Poor thing,” you feigned sympathy. “You’re so worked up.”

You knew it took everything in Chan not to bury his face in the sheets. Instead, he bucked up into your grasp as a wordless plea, struggling to gain some kind of friction. His body was just as honest as he was with his words. Every subtle shift in his expression, every sensitive twitch of his body, every poorly concealed sound—they made it so easy to understand what he was feeling. He made himself so easy for you to take apart.

Gently, you gestured for him to sit up. It took him a moment to process the command, and you couldn’t help but think he looked akin to a lost puppy, blinking his foggy eyes in confusion before clumsily willing himself upright. You ushered him back until he was resting against the headboard, slipping off your own shorts and underwear and settling into his lap in one fell swoop.

“You’re not the only one, though,” you drawled, taking his cock back into your hand. You pressed his tip just barely against your heat, allowing your wetness to mix with his precum. “Do you feel it?”

A desperate groan rumbled in his chest, going straight to your core. “Y-yes. Please, let me feel you. Wanna make you feel good, too.”

You hummed playfully, circling the head of his dick around your entrance and gathering up more of your essence. His thighs jerked up against yours, a weak apology immediately following it. Just to tease him further, you stopped what you were doing and turned your attention to your own shirt, taking your sweet time in slipping it off your torso and discarding it.

The ache between your legs was almost unbearable at this point, but the way Chan’s breathing picked up when he realized what you were doing made it all worth it. You unclasped your bra from behind, letting it slip off your shoulders and exposing your bare body to him.

His stare dropped, locking on the sight of your chest with a shaky inhale. A mere few inches separated you, but he gazed at you like you were untouchable, like he could only admire you from afar. It made you giggle—even now, he was still so shy.

“Are you ready, Channie?”

He looked back up at you with a nod, and you almost wished he hadn’t, because the pure adoration swimming in his eyes effectively sent the last of your self-control crumbling.

You lined him up with your entrance and sank down on his cock all at once. The gasp you let out was only rivaled by the sound of his own cry, loud and shameless, like he himself didn’t even realize it was coming from him.

Heat rippled throughout your entire body, stronger than you’d ever felt it before. It held the exhilaration of something new, yet the intimacy of something familiar, and it set every one of your nerve endings ablaze. You clenched around Chan the moment you connected with his base, taking in his size and shape, wrapping yourself around him; all of him, just like you’d wanted.

He surged forward with another strained noise, head falling into your chest and nestling into its softness. You rested a hand on the back of his head, tangling your fingers in his curls and placing your other hand on his shoulder.

“Mine,” you whispered.

Vaguely, you heard it, timid and breathless, mumbled into your skin. “Yours. ‘M yours.”

There was no way to hide how the words affected you, not when your walls tightened around his cock in a way that made him tremble. It almost made you wonder if he knew about the burn, about the inexplicable need to make him a part of you—or, rather, to take him back as a missing part of you. Did he feel it too?

You took a few moments to calm yourself and adjust to the feeling of him buried inside you. It felt right, like he was made for you. Like you were made for each other.

Every twitch of his length tested your patience more and more, and you knew that he himself must be hanging on by a thread by now. His hands hovered awkwardly above your hips, fingers flexing as he tried to decide what to do with them.

“You wanna touch, Channie?” you urged. “Go ahead.”

He peeked up at you from where his face was burrowed, as if to ask for the permission you’d already granted. You gave him an encouraging smile, and he took hold of your waist at last, squeezing tentatively.

“Th-thank you,” he stuttered.

He was thanking you. You didn’t think you could conjure up a more endearing, a more devastating detail if you tried. It made your heart melt and your arousal skyrocket. You needed to ruin him.

“You’re so cute,” you purred. “Hold on tight, okay?”

He pressed the pads of his fingers a bit deeper into your flesh. Using your grip on his shoulders for leverage, you lifted yourself off his cock bit by bit, relishing in the feeling of it dragging slowly along your walls. Without missing a beat, you snapped your hips back down, both to elicit a response in Chan, and to satisfy the immediate need to be full of him again. You succeeded in both, engulfing every inch of him even tighter than before, as if your body didn’t want to let him go a second time.

“A-ah, fuck!”

It sounded so strange coming from him, sweet voice cracking with a whimper, but so, so delicious.

“Is it good, Channie?”

You repeated the action, gliding up and down with ease thanks to the arousal that was all but dripping down your thighs at this point. Each bounce coated his length with slickness, creating messy, wet sounds that were sure to make his ears burn.

“Feels like I’m on fire,” he threw his head back, mouth falling open to give you a breathtaking view. “So—ah—good. You feel so good, so warm.”

You puffed out a giggle, unable to get a word in amidst his babbling. Instead, you picked up your pace, fueled on by his reactions as the pleasure steadily overwhelmed him.

“So beautiful, I—” he gasped. “Need you.”

Your heart swelled with affection; he was already so far gone. “I’ve got you,” you ran your fingers through his hair and he practically keened. “You’re doing so well for me, Channie. You’re perfect for me.”

Half-lidded eyes blinked up at you, and he subconsciously tugged at your hips, trying to pull you closer.

“I’ll be good,” he repeated his earlier vow. “You can even be m-mean to me, I’ll be good.”

The words caught you by surprise. Still, you kept your expression calm, something to ease his mind amidst the slew of sensations clouding it. You slowed down to trace your thumb along his cheek, so delicately that if he didn’t focus hard enough, your touch would be lost on him.

“Do you want me to?”

Remembering how he’d reacted earlier, you let your hands slide down to his neck, resting them there experimentally without pressing down just yet. Chan let out a whine, the vibrations of it making your palms tingle.

“There, please,” he tilted his head even further back, bumping it against the headboard. “Wanna feel you everywhere.”

Your stomach flipped, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you wrapped your fingers completely around his throat. It was thick, pumping with life. You had to use both hands. Chan bit his lower lip in anticipation, another low whine spilling out of him.

Taking great care in your movements, you began riding him again, lifting yourself on his cock, then sliding back down just as you squeezed at the sides of his throat. You didn’t want to hurt him—not really. You just wanted to toy with him a bit, watch him squirm under your fingertips. You wanted to push him to his limit, then guide him safely right back to you.

“Let me know if it’s too much, okay?”

“Y-yes,” he managed. “I will. Promise.”

The response was so immediate, so desperate, like he was afraid you might change your mind and stop. He throbbed inside you when you applied more force to your grip, almost sounding relieved in the airy moan that escaped him. You watched, fascinated, as his face flushed a shade deeper, whether from arousal or shortness of breath, you weren’t quite sure.

To better control your grip on his neck, you halted your bouncing to switch to a slower, deliberate grinding of your hips instead. Chan jerked up beneath you, the newfound rhythm pressing your walls against his cock and making him dizzy.

You contracted your fingers around his throat repeatedly, adding and removing the slightest bit of pressure to match the rocking of your hips. His tip brushed against your sweet spot, and you let out a soft moan that only seemed to bring him closer to his breaking point.

“Oh, God,” he groaned. “W-wait…slow down, please. ‘M getting close.”

“Slow down?” you tilted your head. “Why? Don’t you wanna cum, baby boy?”

He squeezed his eyes shut, and you loosened your hold on his neck so he could speak properly.

“Wanna finish with you,” he slurred. “Wanna make you feel good, too.”

You should’ve expected it. Of course he would have such an earnest, such an adorable reason to ask something of you—it was Chan. Even at the height of his pleasure, he was still thinking of yours, making sure you were enjoying yourself as much as he was. It spread an unbelievable warmth in your chest, different from the intense, sultry heat brewing between your bodies.

It also made you want to mess with him.

“Don’t worry, Channie,” you dragged your nails along his neck, not enough to draw blood, but enough to scratch, to make him shudder beneath you. “I feel good just watching you fall apart like this.”

His hands stayed latched to your hips, following them with every tortuous rock, but making no attempt to try and stop your movements. Despite that, his pleas didn’t let up, demanding in the sweetest, most polite of ways.

“Please,” his voice grew more frantic. “I’m really not gonna last, please, please.”

His whines chipped away at your resolve more than you let show; each one buzzing his vocal chords beneath your hands. He sounded so helpless, like he might burst into tears if he didn’t bring you to a climax with him.

“You sound so cute when you beg,” you marveled, sinking the pads of your fingers into his skin to feel his hammering heartbeat. “Maybe if you keep it up, I’ll change my mind.”

Much to Chan’s dismay, you continued your grinding, and you could see the concentration written all over his face as he fought to hold himself together. His hair had grown damp with sweat, face flushed and glistening from all his efforts. He looked so wrecked already; you could only imagine what it’d be like to see him cum.

You leaned in and kissed him. His lips were puffy and glossy and right there. It earned a cute mewl of surprise from the man, and it turned up in pitch when you took his lower lip between your teeth and nibbled. He let go of your hips to wrap his arms fully around your waist, trapping you as close as your bodies would allow.

“So—mmph—close.” His tongue slid against yours, jumbling his speech even further. “Please, please, please!”

You tugged at his plush lips one last time before breaking the kiss. “Gonna cum, angel?” You clenched around him, encouraging him to let go. “Don’t hold back. Empty inside me like a good boy.”

“Oh my God.” Chan’s whole body tensed beneath you, head dropping right back into your chest with a choked sob. You felt his cock pulse wildly inside you, and soon after, the flood of his release. Coupled with the moan that spilled out of him, drawn-out and broken and still so loud despite being muffled by your flesh, you were almost sent over the edge yourself.

“That’s it, Channie,” you played with his hair as his climax rippled through him. “Look at you, filling me up so well. Good boy, good boy.”

It was almost devious, the way you stopped moving like he’d so hopelessly been begging for, only once he’d come down from his high. He slumped against you, his pants gradually dying down into cute, content sighs. When he finally found a strong enough grip on his consciousness to speak, it came whiny, sulky.

“Not fair,” he mumbled into you. “Wanted to finish together.”

He lifted his head, and you broke out into gentle giggles. The expression on his face would’ve been one of pure bliss if it weren’t for his very prominent, very effective pout.

“Can I count this as my second win?” You tapped his nose.

He huffed, but the beginnings of a smile tugged at his features, betraying him. “Please, let me do something for you.” He glanced down at the spot you were connected, wetting his lips. It made your core clench in a way that you knew he couldn’t miss. “Let me make you feel good.”

“I do feel good, Channie,” you insisted, and you meant it. “Better than ever, actually.”

Though the guilt didn’t fade from his pleading stare and furrowed brows, he at least seemed to believe you. He studied your face for a split second longer before leaning in, nudging his nose against yours to ask for another kiss.

You could’ve easily stayed that way for the rest of the night, savoring his warmth, the fullness, the wholeness that you felt when nestled into each other in every possible way. But judging by how sensitive Chan was, you knew there was a very real chance of him getting hard again, and regardless of how much you wanted it, neither of you had the energy to go again. Reluctantly, you hoisted yourself off of his length, sharing a flustered exhale with him when some of his seed trickled out of you and dripped on to his thigh.

Ten minutes later, the two of you were laid side by side in your bed, staring at the ceiling with your hands brushing delicately against each other.

“This…” Chan spoke up suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence. “This isn’t a usual thing for me.”

You couldn’t deny the relief you felt upon hearing it. The answer to a question that had been floating in the back of your mind without you even realizing. It was selfish—meaningless, too—but you felt it all the same.

You were well past the point of pretending like your relationship with Chan was something ordinary, anyway. Whatever existed between you, it was magnetic and burning and inevitable, almost like you had no choice in the matter. In fact, that had to be the case, because if you’d had a choice, you certainly wouldn’t have let yourself fall into him so hard, or so fast.

“Me neither,” you admitted.

You heard the sheets rustle next to you. “Really?”

“Really.”

There was the faintest smile in his voice as he continued, and it made you wonder if he was indulging in the same, selfish satisfaction as you. It wouldn’t be a surprise, considering the way he seemed to mirror even the most intimate parts of you— parts that you barely even knew of until you saw them reflected in him.

“Yeah,” he breathed. “I…I’m never so…quick?” You could tell he was trying to choose his words carefully, but there was only so much he could do when his emotions were still running high and his head was still in a haze. “It can take months, e-even longer sometimes, for me to—”

“I don't think you’re easy, Channie,” you teased. “If that’s what you’re worried about.”

You turned your head, just in time to see that rosy tint spread across his cheeks, still visible even in the dim light. It was a sight you might get addicted to.

“I just want you to know that this means something to me,” he said softly.

Something gripped you, dropped a pebble in the calm surface of your lake. You didn’t have much time to think about it though, to worry about finding a window to break out of before you were past the point of no return. For tonight, you let yourself lean fully into that persistent flame.

“It means something to me too,” you murmured. “I wouldn’t have done this with anyone but you.”

Chan let out a shy hum, going quiet for a bit before stroking your pinky finger with his.

“So,” he began. “Are you ready to tell me what happened?”

You tensed slightly in your spot. You’d hoped he would’ve forgotten about it by now, or, at least, been too busy basking in the afterglow to bring it up again so soon. The endorphins that had been flooding through your system ebbed just a bit. This moment was too precious to sully by thinking about it—about him.

Suddenly, it felt all too reminiscent of what had transpired exactly one year ago; the first and last time you’d ever tried talking to anyone about the loss of your friend. It had been with someone you’d thought you loved, someone you’d thought loved you. And maybe, he really had believed that he loved you, too. You’d never know, now.

Imbalanced didn’t even begin to describe it. Imbalance was the balance of your relationship; you’d provide everything, and he’d take it all. The roles had come so naturally to the both of you that you’d never once questioned them, or where they might lead you.

He needed comfort, you liked comforting him. He needed support, you liked supporting him. He needed someone to depend on, you liked being depended on. Equal exchange, the perfect dynamic on paper, and—for the most part—it had worked. You didn’t really have the chance to notice how thin you were stretching yourself, because he was happy, and that made you happy.

One simple question was enough to shake that foundation, however, enough to expose how fragile it all really was and send it toppling to the ground in the ugliest of ways. A question that, in all its simplicity, hadn’t crossed your mind until you were all but forced to confront it last summer.

If your relationship was built solely on your ability to accommodate him, what happened when you couldn’t accommodate him anymore?

You were always encouraged with the most deceptively sweet words to open up to him, to share your thoughts and feelings and troubles the same way he did with you. But every single time without fail, his reaction made you want to seal your mouth shut, never to have the audacity to utter a single word about yourself again.

“I regret asking” or, “Well, now I’m just depressed” or, “Let’s talk about something else” or, sometimes, even nothing at all. You soon came to find that the role you had taken on wasn’t just to his benefit, it was to your detriment. You were a mere footnote in his happiness, and nothing could ever break that mold.

“My best friend died.”

“Oh,” he’d said. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s horrible.”

You’d nodded, sensing instantly that you would’ve felt better if you’d kept quiet.

“I don’t really know what to say.”

You shut your eyes, unsure of what you’d expected from him in the first place. It was pathetic, anyway, to hope for words of comfort that you knew would be hollow. Nothing could’ve made it okay, especially not anything he could offer you.

“That’s okay,” you replied. “You don’t have to say anything.”

A deep breath, and then, a glimpse of weakness.

“Just…stay with me, please.”

The request had sounded so unnatural coming out of your mouth, like it was a phrase you were learning to say in a foreign tongue for the first time. You winced at yourself, but it was already too late to take back.

“Oh, yeah. Sure.”

The two of you had sat in silence for some time. It could’ve been seconds or hours, and you wouldn’t have known the difference. His hand rested on your back for part of it, running up and down in a motion that you used to calm him down when he was upset. Eventually, though, he seemed to have decided it was a lost cause and awkwardly removed it.

You still weren’t quite sure how you’d managed to hold back your tears that day. But your sniffling and sobbing being the only sound echoing throughout the deathly silent room had been the last thing you’d wanted; you already felt vulnerable enough just letting him see you like that. You didn’t want to break in front of him, and you were certain he didn’t want you to either. A crack in you meant the absolute shattering of him.

After shifting around uncomfortably in his spot for a few moments, he finally spoke up.

“Maybe this isn’t the best time, but does that mean tomorrow’s off?”

It took several seconds for you to process the question. You wondered, briefly, if you’d imagined it at first, or if he really was just that horribly out of touch with reality—with you as a human being.

You wanted to glare at him, to ask him why that would even be something to consider right now, let alone ask about, but miraculously, you’d restrained yourself.

“Yeah. I might need a few days.”

More silence, and then you felt his weight lift from the cushions next to you. He avoided eye contact as you raised your head to look at him.

“I should probably go.”

A pang in your chest. “Why?”

Please don’t. You’d desperately wanted to add.

“I feel bad. Like, I shouldn't be here,” he mumbled. “Just…let me know when you’re feeling better, alright? Love you.”

And then he left.

A few days later, he’d texted you like he always did. No question of how you were, no condolences, and most definitely no apology. He’d said he missed you—which, you’d come to learn long ago, was never just an honest expression of attachment when it came to him. It was a signal, a sort of code to let you know there was something he needed from you. He didn’t just miss you, he missed what you could do for him.

Another week passed, and you’d broken up with him. It was unusually cold of you, doing something so drastic through text, but you couldn’t find it in you to even leave your apartment, let alone face the maelstrom of emotions that were sure to unleash if you’d met him in person. You’d experienced it once before, the first time you’d tried to end things. Crying, begging, apologizing, all so profuse yet so hollow.

The second time, his guilting and false assurances hadn’t worked, or rather, they might have if it weren’t for the distance between you. If you’d tested your conviction in front of his distraught, teary face, swearing that he wouldn’t be able to live without you, you weren’t so sure you could’ve gone through with it. He looked so innocent, so harmless, you’d never guess that he’d be the one to suck the life out of you without a care in the world.

When the usual tactics didn’t work, he’d resorted to anger. In a way, you understood—he was hurt, and no matter how hard you tried to spell it out for him, he simply couldn’t comprehend all the ways he’d hurt you first. He hadn’t done anything, but that was exactly the problem.

As much as you wished you could’ve brushed it off, it had stuck with you. The accusations that you were a liar, a manipulator who promised him boundless love and care only to rip it away with cruel indifference once he’d come to rely on it. Even now, you weren’t entirely sure if he’d been wrong, and that in itself was enough to make you want to lock away your heart and toss out the key for good.

But here, you had Chan. The boy who could be carrying the entire world on his shoulders, and still offer to take some of the weight off of yours. The boy who could be struggling to keep his own head afloat, and still pass you his life preserver without a second thought. The more time you’d spent around him, the more you’d come to witness firsthand just how much he did for everyone, even people he wasn’t particularly close with—from small, thoughtful acts that might go unnoticed, to favors so arduous that they left him physically and mentally drained. All with the sweetest of smiles on his face.

You wanted to be the reason for his smile, not for his weariness.

“I told you,” you said lightly. “I just wanted to see you.”

“C’mon,” Chan giggled. “I know it’s more than that.”

You wondered just how much he knew. You wondered if he knew better than anyone else. Despite the complicated thoughts unfolding within you, you grinned, turning on your side to look at him. “I promise I’ll tell you later, okay?” You held out your pinky for good measure. “Right now, I don’t wanna focus on anything but this.”

Chan curled his finger around yours, the glow in his eyes rivaling the moonlight peeking through your blinds. You must’ve thought about how beautiful he looked a million times throughout the night, but now, faced with his tousled curls and his puffy lips—still reddened from all your kissing and biting—and his gaze that was watching you like you’d put the stars in the sky, it was all you could think about. He made it so easy, you mused, to focus on nothing on him.

You tried to snap yourself out of it. He was sweaty, he was sticky, most importantly, he was exhausted. He must be uncomfortable, laying in all the heat and perspiration that had accumulated in those sheets—thirsty, too. You unhooked your pinky from his and rolled off the bed with a bit too much haste, catching his attention.

His expression changed as he watched you rise to full standing, taking some time to stretch your spent muscles before searching around for your discarded top.

“Oh. Should I get going?”

It came quiet, demure, and it made you whip your head around.

“What?”

Chan paused, uncertain. “I-I mean…do you want me to leave?”

“Of course not,” you said instantly, just short of sharp. You were almost afraid to, but regardless, you asked, “Unless…you want to?”

“No,” his reply came just as fast. “Not at all.”

You had half a mind to ask him why he would even think you’d want him gone, especially given the conversation you’d just had, but you were too distracted by the look of pure bewilderment on his face. You didn’t understand it, nor did you like it.

“I’m just getting a washcloth and some water,” your voice softened, and it seemed to get through to him, at least.

“Oh,” he repeated. “Okay.”

It was followed by a small, bashful nod that eased your concerns just a bit. You padded to your bathroom and shut the door behind you, trying not to keep him waiting for too long as you cleaned yourself up and prepared a towel for him. His eyes followed you curiously when you stepped out and passed him on your way to the kitchen, retrieving two water bottles before finally joining him on your bed once more.

There was a short delay when you offered the water bottle to Chan. He blinked at it, as if it were some kind of unknown object, before thanking you quietly and accepting it from your hands. You told yourself he was probably still just a bit dazed, but it was hard to ignore the tinge of worry that pricked your mind.

As he tilted his head back to drink, your eyes fell down to his neck, admiring the way his throat bobbed with every gulp of water. The skin around it was blooming with noticeable, red marks along the lines you’d dragged your fingernails. It made you cringe slightly at yourself. You must've been more lost in the heat of the moment than you’d thought.

“How do you feel?” you checked once he’d downed half the bottle. “Does it hurt?”

You gestured to his neck, and he raised a hand to brush his fingers over the tender skin. “It doesn’t hurt,” he gave you a reassuring half-smile before adding, “I like it.”

You tried not to let the words affect you, to make you pounce at him and take him all over again. Instead, you took hold of the washcloth you’d prepared and pressed it to his neck. The water you’d soaked it in was warm, but it still felt cool to the touch when pressed against his burning flesh. He sighed contently, eyes drooping as you rubbed the reddened areas, taking great care not to irritate them further.

“Wanna lie down for me, Channie?”

“Ah…” He looked away, already leaning back despite the hesitance in his voice. “I-it’s okay, you really don’t have to.”

“I want to,” you said simply.

Chan seemed to sense the sincerity behind it, as he laid himself out the mattress without any further objections. Sheepish, but willing. Carefully, you began dabbing the towel at his face, wiping away the sweat from his forehead and making his eyes flutter shut. His muscles visibly relaxed as you moved further down his body, rubbing his neck, his shoulders, his chest, his stomach, his hips—you left no inch unaccounted for. The warm water you’d soaked the washcloth in calmed his every nerve-ending, so soothing, it almost distracted from how hyperaware he was of your every touch. 

His breath caught in his throat when you brushed over his thigh to clean up the mix of fluids that had begun to dry up on his skin, legs threatening to squeeze shut.

“You’re so sensitive,” you remarked.

He shifted slightly, an awkward chuckle escaping him. “Sorry.”

“It’s cute,” you gave him one last once-over before removing your hand, satisfied. “How are you feeling?”

“Good. Really good.” he blinked up at you lazily, a silent invitation for you to stop fussing over him and settle down next to him in the sheets at last.

You placed the washcloth on your nightstand, collapsing into the plush pillows with a sigh of your own. Chan scooted closer to you within seconds and, chest swelling with fondness, you opened your arms for him to nestle into. Even in all your intimacy, the two of you still couldn’t get enough of each other, filling every curve and gap between your bodies and interlocking your legs. You pressed a kiss to the top of his head before wrapping your arms around him, leaving no room for doubt that you wanted him there.

“Good night, Channie.”

“G’night,” it was barely audible, but even so, you could still hear the faint tremor in his voice. “I…thank you.”

Your eyes flickered down to him one last time before sleep overtook you. For a fleeting moment, you could’ve sworn you saw a wet gleam brimming in the corners of his eyes.

。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。⋆。˚ ʚïɞ ˚。⋆。

In retrospect, going out to buy groceries on a Sunday afternoon probably wasn’t your smartest move.

After you and Chan had awoken the morning prior—or, just you, you weren’t sure how much sleep he had really gotten—groggy and ravenous only to find an alarming lack of food in your apartment, you wanted to restock as soon as possible. In your defense, you hadn’t been home for over a week, and even before that, you’d been spending a considerable amount of your time out and about with Chan or at his apartment. Still, it was embarrassing enough for you to not want a repeat of the situation, especially given how often you’d make a point to scold him and Changbin for not eating substantial meals.

You’d trudged to the nearest convenience store with a list of basic necessities typed out in the notes of your phone, only to soon discover that you’d be lucky to find anything you were looking for judging by how packed the place was. The state of most shelves was enough to make you think people must be preparing for some kind of apocalypse unbeknownst to you. Frowning, you made your way over to the prepared meals section, hoping to at least find something to get you through the next few days. As you maneuvered past the suffocating amounts of people, the sight of a familiar face across one of the aisles stopped you in your tracks.

A sharp, sculpted nose bridge, eyelashes swooping out like a ski slope, and a slight lean in his posture. Lee Minho. You hadn't expected him to even be back in town yet, let alone to be running the same foolish errand as you at this hour (all for the sake of cola, apparently, if the ridiculously large stash in his basket was any indication).

He seemed to have noticed you just a split second before you did him, fixing you with a stare so sharp that you had to blink a few times to make sure you weren’t imagining it.

You weren’t.

His eyes were dark and unwavering, boring into you with an intensity that made you feel as if you were the only two people in the store—and not in the romantic, heart-fluttering kind of way. It was more like everyone else had scattered the instant they’d sensed the tension, leaving you to fend for yourself under a glare that singled you out with an almost predatory accuracy. You waited for the reveal, the cheeky smirk that always followed, but it never came.

Oh.

Minho didn’t like you.

He really, really didn’t like you.

You felt stupid for not realizing it sooner. At the same time, however, he’d never really given you a reason to, and you liked to think you weren’t dense enough to completely miss it if he had. Suddenly, you found yourself re-evaluating every interaction you’d ever had with the guy, scanning and analyzing your conversations down to the most minute of details to try and recall if that same coldness he was emitting now had ever been present before. You thought back to the last time you’d spoken to him, just a week into summer break before he’d gone home. The two of you had started up a short, innocuous chat about the current anime he was watching, and outside of his very serious claims that it was undoubtedly the best of the season, nothing else about it really stood out to you.

You’d even taken his suggestion and watched it in your free time—one of the many, many distractions implemented in your visit home—and you’d planned on sharing your thoughts with him when you saw each other again. With the look he was giving you now, though, like he hoped you might spontaneously combust if he focused hard enough, you got the feeling he wasn’t exactly interested in hearing what you had to say.

Minho turned his head, preparing to leave the aisle without acknowledging you any further. Despite every one of your instincts telling you not to, you followed him, too consumed by curiosity to ignore whatever kind of message he’d been trying to send with just his eyes. You needed to test things out, to be absolutely sure. You needed to know what had changed since the last time you’d spoken to him.

Well, realistically, you knew what had changed. One very major, very undeniable thing had changed. But that couldn’t be it—could it?

“Hey, Minho!”

He might not have bothered stopping if it weren’t for an older woman passing in front of him with an overloaded cart. You squeezed past the rows of people as quickly and respectfully as you could, managing to catch up with him just in time.

It was a bit harder, you noted right away, to mitigate the effects of his stone-faced expression up close. He gave you a terse nod.

“Hey.”

“You’re back in town?”

His face changed just barely, trading out stoicism for something a bit more amused. “Very observant.”

You forced out a light laugh for the sake of extending the conversation, just long enough to get a proper read on him. “How was your vacation?”

“Fine,” he shrugged, adjusting his grip on his basket. “Not long enough.”

“I feel that,” you made a noise of sympathy, as if you hadn’t spent the past two months counting down the days until the fall semester began.

“How about you?” he was at least polite enough to return your question, but for some reason, it didn't really sound like he was asking. “Had fun?”

You barely caught it—a sneer. He definitely knew. It made your stomach flip a bit, if you were being honest, but you managed to keep a straight face.

“Yeah,” you replied evenly. “Me, Chan, and Felix made the most of it.”

“I’m sure.”

In your efforts to talk to him, you seemed to have accidentally stumbled into some kind of one-sided staring contest with this guy, because he hadn’t broken eye contact even once from the moment you’d strided up to him.

“It’s a shame,” he continued casually. “That you won’t be coming over anymore.”

You paused. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t tell me you’re planning on using Chan as a tutor this semester, too?”

Something about the way he said it, the way he phrased it, made it difficult for you to keep up your composed front.

“Of course not. He’s done enough for me already.”

“Good,” Minho hummed, and though it appeared to be in agreement, it only put you further on edge. “He’s graduating after this term—you know that, right? So, playing hero for you is the last thing he needs.”

You narrowed your eyes. For a brief moment, you wondered if he might actually be jealous of you, if he somehow saw you as some kind of threat. But you dismissed the idea almost as soon as it came—the look Minho was giving you wasn’t of someone who was threatened, it was the look of someone who was threatening you.

“Why are you talking to me like that?”

“Like what?” he cocked his head innocently.

“Like I’ve done something wrong.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” he dismissed. “Maybe it’s just your guilty conscience?”

You wanted to be annoyed, to call him out for how he was behaving in a way that he couldn’t twist. The problem was, he was being so fucking weird. You couldn’t even fully understand what he was trying to get at, or what his angle was. You weren’t even sure if he had an angle outside of just trying to get a rise out of you.

The corner of his lips curved up into a smirk. Just like the day you’d first met him, it was pure trouble, only now, it was missing the playfulness you’d come to know.

“What’s with that face?” he chuckled. “I’m only joking.”

Whatever this situation was, you decided you’d had enough of it.

“You’re usually funnier than that,” you said curtly.

At that, you dipped your head, stepped to the side, and walked past him, determined not to let the strange feeling bubbling up inside you reach the surface.

Minho’s stare followed you as you stalked off, piercing into your back. Even after you’d rounded the corner into another aisle, the chill of it lingered on your skin.

#bang chan x reader #skz x reader #bang chan fanfic #bang chan smut #skz smut #sub!bang chan #sub!skz #dom!reader #skz fanfic #skz imagines #bang chan imagines #sub!chan #stray kids x reader #bang chan x you

[wonijinjin]

KIM MINGYU (+ JEON WONWOO) - BITTERSWEET

author’s note: this is a fic for the @caratsland event, it was a very long process to write but i am proud of this fic, my first true long fic and angst, hope you guys enjoy! inspired by the song bittersweet.

song recs: recommended songs for this fic are bittersweet by wonwoo mingyu and leehi (obviously hehe), i don’t understand but i luv u by seventeen,

synopsis: can two broken hearts find peace, happiness, and heal each other?

word count: 5.2k | genre: heavy angst, hurt/comfort, love triangle | pairings: wonwoo x f! reader, mingyu x f! reader | warnings: mentions of alcohol, heartbreaks, cursing, bad mental health, mentions of food, tiny bit of physical fighting

mingyu had always been in love with you, since the moment he met you; he couldn’t get you out of his head, it was something about the way you smiled at him or the way your eyes lit up when you saw him. just like as if he was put under a magical spell, he was mesmerised by you, he felt like you were his soulmate.

except, this was not a fairytale. this was real life.

“hey, you seem like you just got dumped or something let me treat you to a drink, okay?” a guy next to you observed.

he could recall the the first time you two had met like it was yesterday. it happened to be in a place odd enough; a bar. you had the first heartache of your life and went out to drink your pain away and happened to sit next to him at the bar.

“is it that obvious?” you laughed weakly. he offered a grin in return. “i know a broken heart when i see one.” he said with the same smile on his face. “speaking from experience?” you blurted, a bit tipsy, hands clamping onto your mouth following the remark. his soft look saddened. “sorry, didn’t wanna pry into your life.” you apologised, shame rising in you. “no worries.” he said reassuringly. he saw your almost empty glass and got back to the topic. “so, which one is the lucky drink today?” he joked, motioning for you to choose one from the menu on the table. “surprise me.” you said, playing along with his silly game. “my pleasure.” he faked a bow in sitting position, tilting his head. “you have to turn around or at least not look at the drink, it isn’t gonna be a surprise if you do.” he emphasized, “don’t worry, i am not gonna put anything in it, she can assure you about that, right?” he projected his gaze towards the bartender who nodded siletly. “okay then, but it better be good.” you giggled, twisting your body in the opposite direction so you couldn’t see the drink itself. after the bartender finished the mysterious beverage, she handed it to you, and you accepted it. “thanks.” you returned her kind smile and took a sip of your drink, not knowing what kind of alcohol it contained. “tequila? you have a good taste.” you said after tasting the medicine-like bitterness on your tongue. he laughed out loud. “it is said to be curing heartbreaks.” he told. “i mean it is indeed bitter, might as well be the solution for stress too, isn’t it?” you mumbled in a melancolic tone. he put his hand out for you to shake. “i’m mingyu by the way.” he grinned. you couldn’t surpress the smile that made its way onto your face, and shook his hand firmly. “y/n. nice to meet you, mingyu.”

“i can’t believe you don’t want to tell me his name, after all the times i heard you dreaming about him in front of me! you know how sappy you can be when daydreaming?” fast forward to three years later you guys were sitting in your bedroom, and mingyu was listening to your rambles about your long time crush, jeon wonwoo. he didn’t know it was him though, of course he didn’t know; wonwoo was initially a friend of his, but after stepping foot into mingyu’s inner circle years ago you got to know him yourself, and fell for him. hard. mingyu didn’t know how hard it was to not let him in on this, you truly wished you could have his support, but you had no choice. he was your best friend; you really appreciated mingyu with a full heart, but you just couldn’t tell him your biggest secret, not after failing in love so many times, after all the occasions he had to pick up and glue back together the broken pieces of your heart, you wanted to spare him from having to deal with your bullshit for another time, even so having the possibility of choosing between his friend and you if things didn’t end well.

”y/n, we have been over this so many times, you should ask him out already! i cannot go another week, no, another minute with you whining about it!” he teased you, resulting in you blushing. he loved seeing you blush; you were really pretty with a dust of pink on your face, especially if he knew he was the reason why you got shy. “mingyu, stop! i already told you i am not about to get my heart broken another time!” when you said this sentence he became more serious. he was there for you after you two had met at the bar and you suffered the consequences of a rejection from the first guy you loved in your life. and he had been there for all the heartbreaks ever since, building your confidence up again and again, from nothing. he knew how much that hurt you and on second thought he never wished to see you in that state ever again. “you know what, i might as well take that back.” he agreed, to which you looked at your knees, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. he understood well what played out in your head; he knew you like the back of his hand. he forced you to look into his eyes, a firm look on his face. “look, i don’t want you to get that sad you were when we met. you are my best friend.” he paused for a moment. “all i want is to see you happy. however, for once, you need your happy ending, and that takes many tries sometimes.” you gave him a sad smile. “i know you do, mingyu, i know. and thank you for being here and supporting me. one day i will tell you about him. be patient. please?” you pleaded, and he gave you a determined nod, getting on with your conversation, putting this heavy topic aside for your sake.

“i am so sorry y/n, but i am afraid that i can’t reciprocate your feelings.” wonwoo said, but you didn’t hear it. all you could focus on was holding your tears back, so you didn’t seem any more patethic than you already were, pouring out your heart to him, getting it shattered into millions of pieces. you asked him to meet you at the park for a walk, thinking your next move through after your conversation with mingyu and deciding that you had enough of the waiting and you needed to confess. well, it was definitely a stupid idea. you honestly didn’t know what you had expected; you saw the way he looked at that one girl from the coffee shop he worked at part time, they worked together most of the time, being almost the only ones who ran the place besides the owner. he obviously liked her, not you, but you confessed anyways, what a waste of time and energy.

“it is totally fine wonwoo, it’s okay, no worries! let’s just forget this ever happened, okay?” it was not fine. you were not fine, but still managed to put a forced smile on your face, as big as it could get. “but i should really go now, i forgot about something!” you turned on your heels, choking back the tears you had been holding. “but y/n wait-“ he said but you cut him off. “see you later, bye!” you managed to get out while already running away. you didn’t know where your legs were taking you, but one thing was sure; anywhere just to be away from wonwoo. while hurrying to go to a quieter place to let your emotions out you bumped into someone. “sorry.” you stuttered; when you looked up above the wide shoulders in your vision you saw mingyu’s face with confusion written all over it. his eyes widened “what are you doing here-“ he tried to question, but you pushed him away and started running down the street. “what is going on?” he shouted after you, but didn’t follow; he knew you and how you liked to have your space when getting upset over something, so he never forced you to talk about the issues with him. he would always just text you right after hearing the news and eventually you would come to him yourself; you always did.

but not this time.

he waited for days.

weeks.

months.

you never spoke about what happened that day and what upset you, or about the thing that made you distance yourself from your friends, including him. after that particular day he rarely saw you, and when he did it was only on occasions when just the two of you hung out; that was all he could get you to do, very rarely. when the other guys organised group gatherings you usually cancelled them with some lame excuse last minute; he never believed them, but he stayed silent.

after another few weeks of the situation not getting better he wanted to take action to find out what was wrong, so he made a plan to invite you for a drink at your favourite place.

“mingyu i am very busy and you know that.” you said over the phone when he called you in the afternoon. there was a moment of silence on the other end of the line. “please, we haven’t hung out in like, forever. i miss you, y/n. i really do.” your heart jumped in fear; you had been avoiding all your friends on purpose, but not mingyu, no, you would never want to do that to him. you felt guilt creeping up on you as you could imagine his big puppy dog eyes looking at you, pleading for you to soften and give in to him, which you of couse did. you sighed. “you may be right, i did neglect our friendship. i am sorry mingyu. so, where are we going?” he shouted in excitement. “yes! i knew you would give in to me y/n, you cannot resist me.” he joked to which even if he couldn’t see it, you raised an eyebrow and rolled your eyes. “in your dreams, silly.” you answered. “we are going to your favourite bar! just like old times, remember?” he giggled; that place held so many memories to both of you, laughing or crying, didn’t matter, you loved being there with him. “so just the usual, got it. see you there, text me the exact date. bye mingyu.” you hung up, worry already being heavy on your shoulders; you knew you had to come clean about what happened months ago. although mingyu knew you very well, you did too, so you didn’t doubt that eventually he would ask about the reason of your social distancing, looking like that time had come.

mingyu greeted you at the usual seats in the corner of one of the private rooms; they were basically reserved for you guys, considering how many times you had been sitting in them, talking about this and that, in this case your love life being on the menu of the chit-chat. “so y/n, let’s get to the point.” he started, and you already knew the continuation. “i think you understand why i called you here without me needing to explain in detail. it has been months since that incident. so, tell me. what’s up? are you okay?” he pouted. mingyu was an emotional guy, he really cared for the well-being of his closest friends and he always made it his mission to help them, you frequently being one of his top priorities. if he wanted to be honest he cared for you ten times more than his other friends, they could solve their problems on their own; however, you relied on him a lot, which he didn’t mind; he got used to it pretty quickly, enjoying being trusted by the person whom he adored so much in this world. you looked at him with a heavy heart, tension being so nerve-wrecking while you contemplated whether you would make the right choice by speaking about wonwoo. “sorry ‘gyu, i just couldn’t bring myself to tell you, but i guess now i cannot run away, i know you would figure it out yourself anyways” you turned to him, talking slowly. he listened attentively, encouraging you to go on. “…so here i am, telling you the secret you have been so eager to know. i should start at the very beginning, right?”

“then he rejected me.” you cried into his chest, his arms wrapping around your form protectively. “he fucking rejected me! after all the years i have spent loving him from a distance i succesfully mustered up the courage to tell him, and this is what i get mingyu!” your cries continued steadily, and mingyu was quick to stroke your hair, patting it repeatedly. “why does nobody i love loves me back? do i not deserve happiness in life? am i unloveable, ‘gyu?” you looked into his eyes, tears pricking your own; he could see the pain you had been through in the past few months. he knew how hard it was for you to get over even a crush, not talking about real love. he could see it on you; that you really loved wonwoo, sincerely. it was easy to tell, really; if you didn’t, you wouldn’t have been so upset for this long. and this is exactly why he was really mad at his friend for breaking your heart. “of course you are loveable y/n. gosh, you are the most loveable person i have ever known, so stop with the nonsense. he doesn’t deserve you. he doesn’t deserve the love you have in you, the jokes you make that make everyone want to laugh immediately, the look you give to people you adore and respect, the way your eyes light up when you see a cute dog, or the way you cannot resist those delicious cookies they sell at the bakery next to your apartment and buy them every time they have them freshly out from the oven. he wouldn’t appreciate the meals you cook by yourself and decide to share with your friends, the kind words you have towards everyone, every day, or the help you offer to others without hesitation, even if it puts you at a disadvantage.” he finished his monologue, taking your hands into his. “you deserve the most happiness there is on this planet.” he whispered, almost looking like he was afraid if he said it any louder you would disappear into thin air. “do you really think so?” you mumbled, voice hoarse from crying so much in the span of an hour. “i know so.” he said gently, hugging you softly. “so, is this the reason why you have been avoiding the group meetings? you didn’t want to look into his eyes after the confession?” he gave you a knowing look, having caught on pretty quickly, not to your surprise though; mingyu was a smart guy, he connected the dots easily. you just nodded silently, too embarrassed to say anything about it. it wasn’t the first time you had gotten emotional with mingyu, but this felt different; you weren’t that young anymore, it wasn’t a silly little crush, or a minor inconvenience. regardless, it felt great to have him back and involved with your life again, after these painfully long weeks you admittedly missed his presence an awful lot. you grew more tired with time and closed your eyes when you heard him whisper. ”everything will be okay y/n.” he promised, and you started to believe him.

“so, it was you all along. i should’ve known.” mingyu laughed bitterly while walking up to wonwoo; they were in the practice room, tension already high thanks to new choreography, however the pair had been holding back as much as they could, until the day mingyu found out about you and wonwoo. he squeezed wonwoo’s shoulder, maybe a bit harder than comfortable or necessary. “gosh, i don’t understand. what’s so special about you?” he wondered out loud regarding the rethorical question, gritting his teeth, clearly for the other to hear it. “what is your problem mingyu? what the hell are you even talking about?” the shorter one quizzed, not getting the point of mingyu’s words. “you literally broke y/n’s heart. never took you for the type to hurt others.” mingyu spat out, disgusted by the words rolling off his tongue. realisation hit wonwoo, and he frowned upon remembering the memory. “i wasn’t trying to hurt her feelings.” wonwoo calmly replied. “damn brother, you really outdid yourself with that one there.” mingyu commented again while not even paying attention to his friend, walking away. after this wonwoo couldn’t stay silent; he grabbed mingyu and made him look into his black eyes, dangerously shining. “what the fuck ‘gyu? yes, i didn’t reciprocate y/n’s feelings, so what? im sorry, but should i just ignore what my heart says just to save her from heartbreak? look, she will get over it. this doesn’t work like that, but you seem to be having no idea of what love is like-“ “shut the fuck up! you think i don’t know that? that what the heart wants the heart wants? i love her! i love her and she loves you out of all people!” mingyu screamed at him in frustration. “you should’ve made her happy. happier. she deserves happiness with the person she loves the most, even if it’s not me, even it is you, asshole.” mingyu sighed, disappointed. wonwoo’s eyes widened and he covered his mouth with his hands. “so this is what this was all about, your crush on y/n. how couldn’t i notice it earlier?” he wondered in a surprised tone, to which mingyu kicked him in the shin. “of course, yell it out to the whole world, would you?” he mocked wonwoo who kicked him back in the process. “ouch!” the taller one yelped. “this was for yelling at me,” wonwoo stated, “…and this one is for being this big of a coward to tell her how you feel and blaming it on me.” and with that he slapped mingyu’s arm, the man groaning in pain from the impact.

“love really took the remaining braincells in your head didn’t it? stand up for yourself for god’s sake!” wonwoo lectured, wanting mingyu to cut him some slack because he rarely had anything to do with his anger. “you are the one she loves, not me, i will forever stay the best friend in her eyes. my hands are tied here, brother. can’t you give her a chance? just a few dates? maybe you could get to know her a bit more and fall in love.” mingyu suggested in a low tone, not very fond of the idea, but rather desperate to make your dreams come true; he just wanted you to be truly content with your life, even though if it meant getting you together with his friend, he swore on bringing the moon and the stars to you just to see your happiness, even if it broke him into pieces. “seriously? you know that me talking to her will cause more damage, right? and how shitty of a person you think i am to date someone my best friend loves?” wonwoo sighed, scolding mingyu for not thinking more rationally. “i can get over her, but whatever, forget about it.” mingyu said and then stormed out of the practice room. wonwoo followed him and grabbed his arm. “fine, if this is what you want i will do it. then tell her to text me, because i don’t think she even wants to talk to me. she didn’t even wait for me to finish! i didn’t want to sound so harsh, but i didn’t even have the chance to say anything because she stormed off just like you did now!” wonwoo was grumpy, mad even; he liked you, you were a great friend, he just couldn’t see you in a different light, he had never intended to hurt your feelings. “good, i will. i know she hasn’t gotten over you.” mingyu smiled a bit, wonwoo letting his arm go.

mingyu hadn’t heard from you in a few days and you hadn’t been replying to his messages so he decided to surprise you by going to your workplace after your day ended to pick you up and go out to eat something delicious together, but when he arrived at the building and went inside unexpected news greeted him. “what do you mean she hasn’t been to work?” he asked the recetionist at the ground floor after hearig that you weren’t working. “like i said; she has been on sick leave for a few days already.” he was at a loss of words; why didn’t you tell him that you were sick? you knew he could cook you some soup and help if you felt that bad. regardless, he got into his car after thanking the lady for the help and drove to your apartment. after arriving at your doorstep he knocked on the door, but no answer came from you. “y/n? are you there? i heard that you were sick.” again, silence. “i know where you keep your spare key, so if you don’t open the door i will come in myself, don’t do this to me y/n.” he pleaded, trying to keep his cool and not think about how you could be passed out on the floor and seriously hurt, that being the reason why you never replied to him in the first place. he took the key from underneath the mat in front of the door and stepped inside. there was darkness everywhere around the house, only a small source of light coming out from under your bedroom door which was closed. he hurried through the hall where he could clearly make out your crying through the walls. “y/n? are you in here?” following his question the wailing stopped and he heard a gasp, then the door opened, revealing a very tired you; messy hair, dark circles under your eyes, which were by the way red from crying. “aww what’s wrong?” mingyu asked, pulling you into a hug. “at your office they said you were sick. are you?” he asked, not even waiting for an answer, already putting his hand on your forehead. you pushed it away. “no, i’m not. i lied to them. i lied because i am not okay, ‘gyu.” you sobbed, feeling pathetic that you couldn’t get over the heartbreak of wonwoo rejecting you, even though it had been a long time since the incident. “look, i know it hurts, but life goes on y/n. you can’t hide from everyone forever just because someone hurt you. you know how much i love you and how much pain i am in seeing you suffer, but you need to get it together.” you looked up at him, admitting that you indeed had to sort your feelings out. “and also, i might have a solution for you. what if i said that wonwoo wants to hang out with you?” he grinned, looking kind of crazy from your perspective. “mingyu this is not funny!” you pouted, not believing that he would joke about this; this was really out of line from him. “i am being serious y/n, you would know if you read my messages! i sent like a dozen of them that i had important news. he said he wanted to talk to you, maybe go to the park or something? like on a walk? whatever, you two can figure that out yourselves, point is that i delivered his message. now go text him.” he urged you to take action, and being the good girl you are you put your fear aside, accepted his help and texted wonwoo.

it had been months after the first text message regarding the ‘getting to know each other’ agreement between wonwoo and you, and things seemed to be working out pretty well for the two of you, feeling closer and closer to each other day by day. you had to admit, he was an exceptional person with values similar to yours, you had never ever imagined to be clicking with him so quickly; you hoped he felt the same.

“i heard that you and wonwoo get along really well y/n.” mingyu mentioned while walking along the line of the pavement in front of you when the two of you went for grocery shopping for a party the friends of mingyu had been planning for several weeks. you tilted your head and turned it in his direction; you had been talking to and meeting up with wonwoo after sorting things out about the confession, but didn’t expect him to tell mingyu how it had been going.

“did wonwoo talk about me? wow that’s impressive, it really means we are going in a good direction i suppose.” you wondered; you were not sure about where you pre-dating stage was going to lead you as you had not been in contact with wonwoo as much because all of you guys had busy schedules. “yeah, i think he is starting to fall for you. good job!” mingyu patted the crown of your head, just like when the teacher praises the elementary school students for getting an answer right on a test. you had been brighter in the last months, even considering how nothing was guaranteed with wonwoo, taking it slow, you most certainly did look happier, him assuming it must be already enough for your confidence and joy levels to rise to be able to do something with wonwoo, even as friends for the time being. however, mingyu’s heart had been slowly shattering into more pieces by the day; his feelings for you became stronger with time, after you searching for comfort in him on that night at the bar he just couldn’t stop himself from falling for you harder, even with knowing you wouldn’t return those feelings. he had been working on trying to accept the situation, trying to accept his place and role in your life as your best friend; it was not easy.

you chuckled at his action, winking at him in return. “what can i say? it looks like i am irresistable after all, don’t you think?” his face changed very quickly, though it was barely noticeable; for a moment his eyes grew sadder but he regained his composure in just a second and put on a big smile for you. “yeah, i told you so. now let’s get that grocery shopping done.”

when you arrived at the party after going home following the shopping trip to get ready many people had been there already; it was hard to find anyone you knew. you spotted mingyu in the crowd and he locked eyes with you, waving. “y/n! come here!” he shouted through the noise of the music and you pushed yourself through the wave of people in the living room. “hi.“ you greeted the others shyly; it had been many weeks since you participated in a group activity, since the incident with wonwoo. you came because you missed the boys; you didn’t treat them well and they didn;t deserve it, they had always took care of you like you were their family. “hi y/n, nice to have you here.” wonwoo, who just arrived with a few drinks added, giving you a smile.

“can i have this dance?” wonwoo questioned when taking the empty place next to your right side; you were dancing with mingyu to one of your favourite songs, bodies moving to the rhythm in sync. you took a peak at mingyu’s face, looking for a sign that he heard the question too. he gave you a quick nod and let go of your hand, wonwoo taking it instead and leading you further into the crowd of friends. mingyu watched as the two pair of you and wonwoo laughed and talked while moving on the makeshift dancefloor in the room, then disappearing from sight. he stared into the distance with a sad smile on his face, every nerve in his body concentrating on not lettng him be bitter about it and trying to encourage himself to be happy for you; afterall it was what you wanted, wonwoo’s love.

as mingyu turned around the corner of the hallway he caught a glimpse of wonwoo leaning in and slowly kissing you by the kitchen counter, your hands moving to link behind his neck, him pulling you closer, flush against his body. you were lost in the moment so you didn’t hear mingyu’s footsteps come into the room. “oh.” this was all he could manage to get out, words light as a feathery whisper, freezing in place for several seconds, watching the scene unfold in front of him. after seemingly regaining his composure he turned around his heels, planning on going back to the party in the living room. his steps were long, slow even, dragging his limbs like he didn’t have the energy to move forward in any sense possible; he entered the bathroom instead of the space where everybody had been enjoying their night, standing in front of the mirror, watching himself in it closely. he watched as the teardrop he knew he had been holding in slid down his cheek and dropped to the sink below, as the smile he put on for the entire night disappeared, more tears starting to fall with it.

mingyu was a strong person, there was no doubt in that; but even the strongest fighters and warriors get wounded. he let go of the white surface, slowly opening the door as quietly as he could, taking his coat from the hanger it had been placed on before. upon stepping outside into the night he sent a text to his friend informing him about him leaving so they wouldn’t get too worried. he got into the car, driving down the road, arriving at a familiar place; the bar. he bought a drink, then made his way into the usual room, sitting down in the chair which used to be yours, where the two of you would chat for hours about random topics, where he realised that he was falling for you; where it all started. he closed his watery eyes and held his breath, silence and stillness surrounding the place, not the slightest trace of anyone’s presence there, not even his, like he wanted to believe he could vanish if he tried hard enough.

he exhaled; staring at the ceiling, tears continuously coming from those sad chocolate brown orbs, every beat of his heart, the heart that had been beating for you all this time, tearing it a bit further apart. eventually the tears stopped, only a shaky sigh being left behind, mouth open, words forming, but not yet ready to come out. mingyu’s hand reached his cheeks, brushing away the evidence of his walls crumbling down, lifting the drink to his mouth, taking a sip from it.

“goodbye my love.” he whispered to himself while the sip of tequila entered his taste buds; it had never been this bitter.

#wonijinjin #caratsland #seventeen #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen mingyu #kim mingyu #svt mingyu #mingyu #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo #svt wonu #svt wonwoo #svt angst #seventeen angst #mingyu x reader #seventeen wonwoo #jeon wonu #angst #heartbreak #unrequited feelings

[deus-lapidis]

“Rest your eyes now, my dear.”

— Lay in your lover’s arms

Characters: Kaeya, Zhongli, Childe x gn!reader

Genre: angst, the big sad, major character death (he dies)

A/N: I wanted to do a sad one

@astroculus-affiliation

Kaeya

Kaeya life was perilous, having to choose between two sides at all times, living and losing and yet he wanted to believe that he had done well. He had overcome so much, he was so cautious, he yearned to think everything through, meticulously working to not make mistakes in contrast to the relaxed mask he wore. But it was in vain in the end.

“It’s so bright, I’m so tired..”, smooth voice nothing but a weak slurring sound now, his eyes growing heavier with each passing moment, eyepatch discarded somewhere irrelevant to both him and you, as you caressed his face.

Tears filling your eyes as you tried to smile for him, eyebrows furrowed, because you knew what he was doomed for.

“Kaeya, my love, please stay with me, stay awake for me just a bit longer, I- you’ll be okay-“

“…can you tell me about..us..?”, it was a quiet plea, a wish to seal his life once and for all. He wasn’t scared of death, he was only scared of what would happen to you, the one he cherished the most. Kaeya had many regrets in his life, but you weren’t one of them and he wished to be reminded of your shared love before he slipped away.

You shook your head frantically, eyes shut tightly in denial, but when you opened them you were met with a glassy pleading look. You took an unsteady, deep breath, your voice faltering with every word, yet determined to fulfil your lover’s wish. Gently you intertwined his fingers with yours.

“We’re going to go home…go home and get some rest in bed together, Kaeya. Our bed and some cuddles, our warm duvets, hm?”

It became far too tiring to keep his eyes open and he hummed slightly in agreement, hand giving you a faint squeeze.

“…that…sounds…perfect..like a dream…”

And he was right, it all sounded like a dream.

Zhongli

When he retired, he thought he had been able to outsmart it all, to lay down his duties as the god of contracts, to live his life with you peacefully. But truth be told, life finds a way to chase one down, his past inevitably catching up to him.

Was this all a punishment for all the things he had done? For everything he has taken and destroyed? For him to now listen to his loved one desperately try and remain calm for his sake?

He wasn’t ready to leave you behind yet, there were many things he wanted to experience with you, but you were running out of time.

His heart ached at how deeply broken your gaze was, he wanted to reach out to you and soothe you, but you hushed him with a gentle kiss.

Your lips were warm on his.

“You’ve fulfilled your contracts, darling. You can rest now, it’s alright..”, he could feel your soft lips brushing against his as you talked in a hushed tone, so quiet and soft, only for his ears to hear. Your fingers gingerly grazing over his cheek, so gently as if he was made out of glass.

“My…contracts..?”, his mind grew hazy, clouded and confused while his eyes lost focus. and breathing slow and shallow, chest rising unsteadily.

The tears in your eyes threatened to spill, as you watched his mind slip away slowly.

“Do you remember the lover’s oath, honey?”, he weakly nodded in confirmation, heavy eyes longly having closed in fatigue.

And at last, you hummed the familiar tune to him, as a loving and final goodbye.

Childe

He had always strived to be the strongest, the best and the greatest warrior. But even a harbinger of excellent strength is just a broken child deep down and there are things fate had prepared for him, that he could not defeat with brute strength. Rage instead of inner peace, would be poison for a hurting soul and truthfully, he had never had the chance to heal. This time, his recklessness was simply too brash, his delusion simply too draining and the opponent simply too strong.

He wanted to thrash in refusal, but your gaze pinned him down and he was far too weak to make big movements. You knew it was too late for him. Your eyes full of sorrow and love for the man, resting on you, tears trickling onto his cheeks as you stroked his hair.

“You did it, love. You protected me, you did it…”, you whispered to him, your voice was so gentle, yet so broken. Hundreds of thousands of doubts and questions were running through his mind, but he was far too tired to speak, instead he held onto your hand desperately and as tightly as he could, wanting to savour your warmth in his last moments. He held onto you as if you were the one that would disappear.

He wished to scream, to cry for you or to just comfort you, but every attempt was futile, a strained and choke sound escaping him instead.

He shook his head weakly, he didn’t want to leave, he didn’t want to leave this life, he didn’t want to leave his family, he didn’t want to leave you. Oh his pretty love, he swore to never be the cause of your pain, but here he lays, your faces scrunched up in anguish, your smile gone and replaced with silent tears.

Yet you chose to soothingly love him in his final misery, staying with him ‘til the last breath.

“You did so well, Ajax. I’ll be okay, rest easy now, honey.”

And with those last words, his tight grip on you loosened, hand slipping out of yours and hitting the ground.

#i hope this causes pain and deep upsets #no fluff today kids only ouchies #i haven’t written angst in a long time i hope this is okay #zhongli angst #kaeya angst #childe angst #genshin impact x reader #genshin angst #illunis’ scribbles

[hannya-writes]

Hi darling! How are you? How have you been? I'm new to your account and saw that you're requests are open. So, could I request angst to fluff for Nicolas Brown finding his girlfriend injured very badly because of some gang that he fought in the last two days and then he beats them or kills them(you can either choose) and when he comes back he's gentle and soft with his girlfriend

Thank you so much!! Have a lovely day/night!!

Title: Hurt and Heal

Fandom: Gangsta

Pairing: Nicolas Brown x Reader

Other characters: Worrick, Alex.

Category: Romance, Angst, Request.

Warnings: This is a Request but I got a bit carried away because I wanted to paint a whole picture(?), There is no violence showed, but it is implied.

Author's note: I gotta thank the sweet Anon who asked for this, I hope you like it and I'm sorry things didn't come out as expected, if you don't like it you can request again and I'll write for you!

Situation: He founds you hurt after you got beaten by one of his enemies.

You met them because of work. You needed help with some home issues, like painting some rooms, getting some shelves in place, moving some heavy stuff, etc. And someone happened to mention Benriya. You ended up calling them and Alex was kind enough to appoint you on their tight schedule.

At first you were a little reluctant to mingle with them, I mean a man with a pirate patch, a woman with a beautiful curved body and then there was that other man, the one that seemed to be able to kill with a glance.

The first day you only left cold lemon water and sandwiches for them. However, the second day the man with the patch caught you with a question "where did you say you wanted this?" You became paralyzed. Worick turned to look at you and you gulped down your own saliva. 

You panicked ok? Worick was beautiful, his eye was so blue it was a crime, his hair glowed as if he had a halo, his voice was deep but melodical and his hands… why were you looking at his hands so much?

"Miss?" He asked worried and you snapped back into reality.

"Mrs, I am… I was married" instead of answering the question you corrected him "what was the question?" 

The other man used sign language and you were able to read his movements "she said by the side of the window, stop bothering her"

"It's no bother" you commented and suddenly all of the eyes were on you.

For the next couple of hours the handymen did their work as you spoke and signed for them, they were curious about your ability to use sign language so you explained to them that your mother was deaf and you learned to have quality time with her.

When they left that day your fear of them had disappeared completely.

The next day only Nicolas went to your home and there was not so much advancement in work since you kept telling stories about your family to Nico.

In only 4 days, everything was done, you paid the services and extended a special invitation to Nico "Come anytime, I'll be happy to have you" 

Worick is a little shit, the moment he saw you signing those words to Nicolas he started to create plans to make Nicolas go to see you.

Nina made a cake? Worick sent Nico to give you a slice.

Alex made some nice food? Guess who gets a taste?

They got an "extra" gun? Geez, you should have it! There's no such thing like being too careful!

What do you mean you don't know how to shoot? Nico can teach you! Only Nico would decline that idea since he's terrible with guns, so Worick will teach you but will also drag Nico to you.

"I'm a pacifist" you signed to Nicolas and he frowned to you.

"That's not good, Ergastulum is a dangerous place" he signed back and you made a pout.

"I know, but I don't want to hurt anyone" you told him and he signed quicker than before.

"Then you will get hurt, I rather you hurt someone than you getting hurt" his words made you blush.

"I've heard you are quite a good fighter? Why don't you do the hurting and I do the healing?" You proposed with a smile and he accepted after a minute of thinking.

Your relationship with the Twilight was slow but steady. When he wasn't going to visit you, he was working, when you weren't working you were studying with Dr. Theo about Twilight medicine.

You were almost never seen in the streets together, you two were careful. Very careful, especially since Worick worried about your safety.

Listen, Nico loves the fact that he can actually have a whole conversation with you. He knew he was in love since that day when you told him he could hurt and you will heal.

But of course he didn't say shit! He's afraid, he feels like he doesn't deserve to be happy and you deserve everything that is good in this world, so yeah! He's not confessing, there is nothing in this world that could make him confess. He would rather die than confess.

But then there's that call in the afternoon. Alex answered the phone but there was no one on the other side, she was about to hangout when she heard your voice in the distance, followed by the sound of things crashing.

Alex ran to tell Nicolas two words: your name and danger.

Nicolas didn't need to know anything else to start moving, he took every single shortcut to your house and got there in record time.

He had popped some cerebret and was ready to fight but when he arrived at your house you were the only one there, laying on the floor, in a puddle of your own blood with many cuts all over your body.

Nico panicked at that sight, thinking you were dead, his mind ran at 100 miles per second, he wanted revenge, he wanted to cry, he wanted to hold you, he questioned why had this happened to you and… your hand moved and so did your lips. He recognized the form of his nickname on your lips: "Nico"

And that simple move of your lips made his mind calm down, he took you in his arms and carried you to Dr. Theo.

Dr. Theo and Nina took care of you. He waited outside of the clinic, feeling useless, lost. His mind was planning on how he would deal with the person guilty of your state. Human or Twilight they were going to feel his rage, they were going to beg for forgiveness. He only needed you to point in the right direction.

Worick had to order Nico to get back home, to eat and even to take a bath since Nico only wanted to be by your side at all times. And surely, once Nico complied he went back to the clinic, to see you sleeping peacefully, unaware of all the injuries in your body.

"She'll be fine" Nina told him in sign language "She's still sleeping because of the medicine, don't worry"

"I like her" Nico answered "I wish I could not-worry but I do" he looked at your fragile form in bed.

"Really? I didn't notice" Nina mocked him and Nico growled lightly "She came all the way here to learn from Dr. Theo" she added and Nico frowned since you had never told him that.

"Why?" He asked and Nina looked at the twilight with a smile.

"She's a doctor in human medicine, but she wanted to learn about the twilight variations" said the young nurse "She wants to be able to heal everyone no matter if they are Twilights or humans" Nina's eyes suddenly widened with surprise and and Nico frowned confused only to then turn to see you awake on bed.

It only took you some more days to be able to use your hands to speak. And the first thing you said was a "Hello, Handsome" with your bandaged clumsy fingers.

Nico on the other hand asked about who had hurt you, why, how had things happened, etc.

So you explained everything, the banging on the door, the assault, how did those men looked like, everything you remembered was said to Nina who translated to Nico, since one of your hands got hurt.

Nico almost broke the chair he was using out of rage. He recognized those descriptions. Those were some little thugs that he had beaten before but had mercy on them. This time there was no mercy. No when they had hurt you and give you a message for him.

"You are not the only one who can beat people" when Nina signed those words Nico decided those men were going to have a horrible and very painful death.

"Nico you don't have to…" you tried to tell the twilight but he was looking away, he only turned back to you to hold your hand for a moment, a moment that at least from Nina's point of view was very romantic. Then he left.

Nico knew where to find them, he knew where they would be at that hour of the day. So he went there. He knew he should have told Worrick, but he didn't want to, this was personal.

The second he got there, he jumped over the culprits, katana in hand. With the first slash he cut down fingers. One of the three men tried to run away but got stabbed in the heels

Everyone in the bar left and Nico decided that he was going to make them pay for what they have done to you: an innocent, beautiful and kind woman.

When he got back to see you he has his shirt stained with blood. He was more relaxed, almost relieved since the thread had disappear. They couldn't hurt you anymore.

"Nico" you said as he walked your way and your expression went from casual to worried in a second. "Are you hurt?" You asked him and he looked at you with soft, caring eyes.

He sat on a chair by your side and caressed your good hand, putting a strand of your hair back behind your ear in a sweet manner, soothing you back to sleep.

"Can you get in bed with me?" You asked him and he read your lips. He hopped on the bed a little stiff at first, but then he practically melted and molded around you.

He is all soft and warm while he takes care of you, he gives you water and feeds you. He just stays there to help you

But then Worrick goes to the Clinic and takes Nico away, it's for work and you understand. The thing is: he doesn't goes back, even when Nina tells you you are free to go. 

For almost a Month you didn't see him. You asked about him many times but Nina always said the same "we haven't seen him" Bullshit! She was lying, you could feel it.

It took you some time, but with a lot of insistence Dr. Theo finally gave you their address, Nico's and Worrick's address! So you decide to go there.

You knocked at the door and Worrick opened, he was surprised to see you, he tried to cover all the space possible as he asked you about your recovery.

You are forced to push Worrick out of your way, only to see Nicolas sat on the couch with Alex straddling him, lips locked on a passionate kiss that leaves you without words.

You blush embarrassed and suddenly felt lost… you had all this unspoken feelings for Nicolas and you had only understood it after all the time you had lost touch with him. Only, only he was kissing another woman but not any woman, this was Alex Benedetto, the singer and secretary of Benriya.

It breaks your heart, you stutter an apology and leave in a hurry, feeling ridiculous. Why did you think you had something special? What had made you think Nico felt the same? It was laughable! You were only friends, nothing more. So why were you crying? 

"Asshole" Worrick signs to Nicolas right before Alex slaps him leaving a red mark in his cheek, which makes Nico growl in pain. "Y/n, She feels things for you" he adds as Alex leaves Nico's lap to go to the desk.

"I know" Nicolas confesses leaving out the words: "I feel things for her too", because he knows Worrick, he knows he would try to set them up if he admits his feelings.

Nicolas just wants to protect you, he just wants to save you from becoming a target for his enemies. Because if they know, if they get a grasp of what he feels for you they'll use you as a leverage. It's better if you stay away. You'll be safe that way.

He understood that in his last mission, as he fought and Worrick told him not to kill those humans. He wanted to kill them, be sure they would never get to you.

"Hey, we can't kill everyone" Worrick told him and Nico got mad.

"I will, I will kill everyone to get Y/n safe" he thought to himself and suddenly stopped in his tracks. He loved you. He loved your conversations. He loved that little tic of yours. He loved the way you saw him, how your stern and cold eyes melted as he was closer by.

He couldn't kill everyone, he couldn't guarantee your safety. No when he was closer. But if he wasn't there, you would be safe. 

"If you love someone let them go" Nico remembered reading something like that. He understood.

So when he smelled your perfume at the door and Worries answered, he panicked. He needed to push you away, and there was Alex reading a book. He snatched her from her place and put her in his lap, only to kiss her as if Alex were you. Slow, tender, passionate. He didn't saw you, he concentrated on the task at hand and got sure to break your heart.

#nicolas brown x you #nicolas brown x y/n #nicolas brown #nicolas brown x reader #nicolas brown gangsta #nico gangsta #x reader #gangsta manga #gangsta #gangsta anime #gangsta x reader #worrick arcangelo

[tteokdoroki]

✉️; RAIN ON MY PARADE. - D.RAGNIVINDR, K.ALBERICH.

💌; synopsis - every time it rains, diluc is reminded of the girl he loved and lost - you’re reminded of the man you left before running away to New York and kaeya is stuck between the two. when it rains again; only the skies above will know who you choose.

↳ length: 3.9K

↳ warnings: smut, mdni 18+, fem!reader. modern!au, heavy angst, love triangles, break-ups ( between reader and kaeya ), friends to lovers, mutual pining, unprotected sex, soft sex, fingering, oral ( f!receiving ), marking, biting, praise!kink, mutual orgasms, creampies.

↳ notes: hello !! happy wednesday, i hope you’re all having a good week so far— this was a lovely little commission from @xshinigamikittenx who was kind enough to let me post this !! i loved writing this and hope you all enjoy <3 m.list ♡

the pitter patter of heavy rain against the window pains with peeling paint is usually enough to comfort a person. it’s cooling, the air rain creates acting like an ice pack on open wounds. the sound of rain is repetitive, can easily take a frenzied one track mind off of its course and settle it to a steadied speed. the rain smells like hope and new beginnings. all this about rain, and more…but to diluc, the rain is a painful reminder, a symbol and culmination of all that he’d lost. it doesn’t wash away anguish for him like it does for others, it isn’t cleansing or healing or reshresing. instead it stings to touch, hurts to hear— rain is as big an enemy to diluc ragnvindr as he is to himself. 

he hates the rain even as it pours outside, slipping through the cracks and holes in his childhood home— momentarily distracting the red head from the warming drinks that he’s making.

“diluc, did you hear what i said?” kaeya’s voice just barely cuts through the clouds and doubts that hang heavy over his mind— threatening to thunder at any moment. “i’m going to propose to her today, maybe ask her to move in too.” 

the kettle that the elder brother is brewing whistles as a sign of the water being boiled— bubbling over until diluc makes a move to pick it up and finish off making the tea. he fumbles with chipped mugs that have been gathering dust in the cupboard under the sink, clinking them together as he glances up at his brother. the mere mention of your name is enough to make the man a mess. “you’re going to what?” he stumbles, words clumsy on his tongue and unusually so for someone so typically stoic. “don’t…don’t you think it’s too soon? for something like that?”

“it’s actually been a year, and it feels right. dad would have approved too,” the blue haired man’s voice softens only just, a slight bit of sympathy etched into his tone. “it would be better for her to move in too, her new writing job will be bringing her back to the city.”

the day you moved away is so much clearer than the current one— the memory scribbled into the back of diluc’s mind in your not-so-neat handwriting he knew so well. before then, you had always been close with the redhead, even as children you were practically inseparable, where diluc scraped a knee you had a nasty gash to match. if his tooth fell out, yours would be wobbly the very next day, there wasn’t a thing either of you would do without each other. during your teen years, things changed ever so slightly— playful smiles turned to shy gazes and pinkies brushing in the fields behind your house, diluc had tasted like cherry cola and chewing gum when you’d kissed him on the swing set not five minutes from his dad’s house, and a year later he’d gotten into a scrap with a boy half his size in the same spot for trying to kiss you there too ( against your will ).

kaeya had taken you home for hot cocoa, your favourite, but he didn’t quite make it the same way as his brother. back then, the younger ‘ragnivindr’ boy hadn’t realised how much his sibling had liked you, simply too blinded by his own unspoken feelings to even notice and get, both you and diluc knew the way you yearned for one another was different than loving a family member or a friend, it was warmer, brighter and more heated. 

he still doesn’t know why he never made a move.

a part of diluc blames the death of his late father, and how easy it was for him to shut out the ones he cared about following the event. he was given everything his father owned at such a young age, shutting down felt like the best choice at the time. he didn’t know it would mean losing you, seeing your somber face framed by the raindrops pattering down on both of you— you were giving diluc a chance before you left for university, asking him for a sign, holding an umbrella over both of your heads as you looked up at him with need.

diluc never made a move and you took the first flight to New York City the next morning to pursue your dreams in professional writing.

you don’t come back after that, and kaeya finds you out there whilst looking for something within himself, and who was diluc to put a wrench in the happiness he couldn’t give you— even if it meant hurting in secret for realising that he loved you a little too late. 

“i’m going to do it anyways, marry her,” kaeya says, once again pulling diluc from the deep pool of his thoughts. “i just don’t see why you don’t approve?” the blue haired male goes on to question. “i can provide for her, i can love her. i can do all the things dad would have wanted me to do for her…” he takes his tea from diluc, blue eyes reading deep into him.

diluc answers his brother with silence, knowing that the younger is already aware of his feelings towards you. brothers shouldn’t fight, bound by blood more so than trivial emotions such as love and kaeya hums, reading deep into the silence.

“that’s what i thought,” kaeya murmurs, with a slight nod of his head. “it’s a shame, i really wish my brother could be there for this important moment.” 

those are his last words to his brother, before departing into the cold rain and leaving diluc to deal with equally cold tea.

you despise the rain for obvious reasons— it reminds you of one of the loneliest times in your life and the sad solitude that followed you throughout your first few months in New York. the rain that had welcomed you felt like some kind of sick prank pulled upon you by whatever supernatural forces were working up above— to make a joke out of the girl who had her heart broken.

however, years later, you’re somehow grateful for the rain now…since it masks your shaky tears when you tell kaeya no.

“i can’t marry you, i can’t move in with you. i’m sorry but my answer is no.” 

the words feel like cotton in your mouth, strange to you and like knives to your boyfriend. or rather, ex boyfriend now. the both of you stand staring, eyes  locked on each other outside of kaeya’s little apartment on the corner of the street— you’re fond of the place, it’s located above a local bakery and always smells like peppermint and fresh bread, you won’t take advantage of the memories you have there. but it can’t and won’t ever feel like a home to you, it’s a shell of a place where you don’t belong and if you’d have said yes to kaeya, you would feel as though you were just a trophy item to be housed on his shelf.

your, now, ex stands on the concrete steps outside his front door, the ones that lead up to his apartment but shields himself from the acidic burn of the rain with an umbrella while you remain soiled to the bone— holding back sobs you know that you don’t deserve to cry. “why?” is all he asks you, not trace or hint of emotion coating his face nor his voice, as if the rainwater has wiped kaeya into becoming a clean slate.

guilt consumes you, since you don’t have an answer. it takes root in the pits of your stomach and intertwines precisely with each of your ribs— thorns sprouting from the stem and prodding at your lungs like a red rose, typically unsuspecting. the guilty flower making it difficult for you to breathe as you hold back your sobs. maybe it’s just that your answer isn’t something he’d want to hear…you can’t move in with kaeya, because you can’t love him in the ways that he wants you too and you’re apologetic for the parts of you that you thought you could. 

kaeya is brave, he is witty and charming and everything someone other than you deserves in a partner— but he is not the man you left in the bittersweet rain before going to New York, the red headed man who was a fool to stand in the rain in expensive cashmere while not saying a word as you begged him to say everything. diluc had turned cold that day, despite the warmth of him that radiated through your childhood memories. and while, kaeya had followed you to New York and claimed to have stolen your heart, you had really left it back in your hometown with the man who had grown up by your side. 

diluc ragnivindr has always been the man you wanted and you know that’s the reason why you could never fully commit to his brother. why you’ve never left a toothbrush or a set of clothes at kaeya’s place for overnight stays, why he doesn’t stock up on your favourite teas because he doesn’t know you prefer it over coffee, why you by candles that smell like sandalwood on fire because they remind you of diluc rather than the minty ones you associate with kaeya. in a way, it’s almost sad— that kaeya would think to propose and ask you to move in without hardly knowing you after a year of dating. 

after spending nearly your entire life as kids together. 

“i-i’m sorry,” you manage between choked gasps for clean air, but kaeya shakes his head so you don’t see his lips tremble as he holds back tears. 

he knows that you are, he’s familiar with your face of regret. it was the same when you lost diluc to the darkness of death after their father passed away and it was the same when he followed you to NYC and told you all about how his brother had been. but, kaeya also recognises the glimmer of hope in your eyes—the same brightness that burned in them whenever you looked at diluc. the younger sibling, he knew you still held some sort of feelings for his brother. 

you’re not over him. 

“you still love him.” kaeya says simply and the rain fills the silence between you, the one that speaks a thousand words.

“i’m sorry,” you repeat, though your words are futile and weak. kaeya had expected you to scream, maybe cry and say that you didn’t mean it— that you really did love him and not his brooding brother. “i’m so ucking sorry, kae…” 

“ah.” 

“i-i’ll pay you back, for the ring. the one i can’t take..i’m sorry i—“ 

kaeya shakes his head again, turning his back to you so he can unlock his apartment— heading inside. “you should go, get somewhere warm before you catch a cold.” you know that there’s a double meaning to what your ex says, like he’s sending you off into the arms of his brother. 

he leaves you on his doorstep, a pathetic mess in the rain— shooting a text to diluc as he does. 

‘you win, congratulations brother.’

on the day that kaeya is meant to whisk you away, take your heart for the keeping— it rains once more and diluc is selfishly grateful for the downpour, hoping that it ruins days and spoils any engagement plans his younger brother may have for you. it’s spiteful, petty— even more so, but the elder ragnivindr son can’t help but bask in the awful weather, though it hides the sadness he truly feels. if you were here, you would have laughed and called it pathetic fallacy and perhaps, that makes him feel a little worse. or better, he really can’t tell.

yet, hours go by and there’s not a word on social media about how kaeya’s plans for you have gone— even though diluc constantly checks. he waits for pictures on your feed or stories, scrolls through and refreshes your Facebook just to see if you’ve updated your relationship status, and still, nothing changes. 

all he wants is a glimpse into your life without him, what he doesn’t expect is the text from his younger brother calling it off, saying it’s over.

and maybe diluc is a little extra selfish for feeling his heart lift at the message notification flashing across his screen.

the redhead is quick to shoot you a text afterwards, asking if you’re okay— if you need anything. for above all else, diluc is still your childhood friend and someone who you’ve been able to count on since you were both in diapers. he would hope that you’d come to him, despite all that you’ve been through. 

and you do.

when the doorbell rings, he flings it open a second later, revealing you and how you’re just as beautiful as the day you left for New York—soaked to the bone by the cool, heavy rain, your makeup a mess, your eyes puffy and nose snotty and still so gorgeous. as if the halo of the grey skies up above make you look like an angel. 

“you’re—“ here. you’re really here, is what diluc wants to say— his mouth already forming the shape of the words before you cut him off.

your voice wavers when you speak, just like that night. “you should have come after me,” you croak, gazing deep into his fire lit soul. “followed me to New York.” 

diluc knows that, it was his biggest regret. “please, just come inside.” he opens the door wider to let you in, trying to entice you with the heat of the fire running through his place but you don’t budge.

“you should have come after me.” you repeat, sniffling from tears or from the cold, he doesn’t know. “so i didn’t have to waste a year with your brother, with my friend, especially when all i could think about was you.” 

the redhead grips the door handle a little tighter, knuckles turning white as the rain beats down on the world outside, on you. it’s humiliating to have you throw this in his face— but you’re so fucking right, he should have gone after you. 

“please...” he says your name too.

“you should have called.” 

“i thought…i thought you needed space! time!” 

his chest hurts.

the rain gets harder.

“i wanted you! god…for fucks sake, diluc! you’re so stupid it’s infuriating—!” you scream in his face, pain in your voice as you step closer to his doorstep. 

diluc’s cheeks flush red with embarrassment, screaming back at you until your voice both hurt. “just come inside, please! before you get sick—“ 

“diluc, for christ’s sake, i’m standing in the pouring rain, telling you i fucking love you and you’re doing it again!” you cry, heart on your sleeve just like it was for him before you left. “why are you doing it again? why won’t you say it back? that you love me—!”

before you can finish, he’s grabbing your wrist and pulling you into the warmth of his home— pinning you against the hard oak door after he kicks it shut, both of diluc’s muscled arms either side of your head. “i do, i do love you,” he damn near sneers, red eyes hooded, causing your heart to stutter in its place. “i burn for you, i always have and you’re right i’m a fucking coward.”

he kisses you then, when he’s done breathing the words you’ve always wanted to hear against your lips. your hands find the thick tresses of his bright and fiery hair— and diluc moans at the taste of rainfall on your soft lips, tongue sliding over the seam and begging you to let him in. neither of you pull away, lips locking and sloppily sliding against one another like you need the action to breathe— pouring long lost words into one another’s mouths, tongues rolling over each other’s. 

“you are,” you breathe wetly, the elder ragnivindr pushes off your wet clothes, regretfully parting from you as he does so— scrambling to shove down your skirt and your panties, all the while spinning you and backing you up into his living room until you both collapse a mess of passionate limbs on the soft rug covering his floor. “d-diluc!”

your body burns brighter than the fire sending warmth through the room, runs hotter than diluc’s heat as he presses his body over yours— fingers fumbling between your bodies to toy with your clit. “i know…shh, i know,” he coos to you softly, though he’s just as riled up as you are— desperate to make you his. “god, you’re so wet and all i’ve done is kiss you, darling.” diluc plays with your puffy folds, gathering your slick and dragging it along the length of your slit to rub into your clit. “you want me? my fingers, darling?” 

“y-yes! diluc please, don’t make me wait,” you sigh, lip caught between your teeth as your back arches from the floor into his blistering chest. he’s temperate compared to the chill outside and the one that you’re used to. he relents, pushing two digits into your eager cunt, thumb taking over on drawing his name against your pleasure nub. “oh…oh—fuck!” 

diluc can’t help the breathless laugh that escapes his swollen and spit slicked lips, when you cry out from his fingers curling against your velvet walls— searching for your g-spot. “there you go, you’re so pretty,” he hums against your skin, smiling when your walls flutter around him and your cunt gushes sweetly into the seat of his palm. “i can’t even tell you how much i’ve dreamed of your pretty hole,” his words are not lost on you, despite how void of thought you might be— feeling him stroke you into shape until pleasure tingles from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. “how desperately i’ve wanted to make you mine.” he says these words while pulling away from you, slipping sweetly between your thighs to suckle on your clit before you beg for a kiss again.

it’s wet and obscene, how he fingers you to an inch of your life, pulling gasps and little moans from deep within your chest along with the tune of lewd squelching cunt. your thighs are trembling, your hands cascading through bundles of diluc’s hair, tugging him to your lips— pushing his face into your neck where he marks his claim on you, removing any traces of your ex ( his brother ) from your body, mind and soul.

you can feel it building, an orgasm twisting knots in your lower stomach— your blood carries mixes of dopamine and sex hormones around your body, sending you spiralling towards your high the more diluc works on you, playing with your creamy sex to his heart’s content. “you gonna cum, love?” he asks you tenderly, finger fucking you faster, licking hotly up the side of your face and into your mouth. “yeah? can feel how you clench down on me so good,” nodding feverishly, you let your nails sink into diluc’s bicep, his name like a prayer on your lips as his digits scissor inside of you— dragging you by your ankles to your impending earth shattering high until….

until he pulls out, slapping three fingers against your pulsating pussy with a gentle pout on his lips.

“not quite yet darling,” you manage to catch him say over the blood rushing through your ears. “i want to feel you let go on my cock, okay?” 

“m’kay, hurry ‘luc,” you babble, your chest heaving and a lovesick expression painting your face as you look up at diluc—spasming from the release you’d had ripped away from you. you barely register his calloused, warm hands slipping under the curve of your ass to pull you into the redhead’s lap, your head spins as he fumbles to pull his heavy and leaky cock from his sweatpants— letting the mushroomed tip prod at your entrance while he steadily pushes into you, the burn of his size setting your nerve endings on fire. 

he’s your childhood best friend, but right now he’s the man you’ve loved your entire life— and though he put you through hell and back, you can forgive him since the way he makes you feel right now has you weak in the knees. your limbs are like jello as you push your hips down, coaxing more of diluc’s girthy cock into your squishy, soaking insides. 

“god— you’re fucking perfect, so beautiful, s-so…oh god,” diluc simpers, finally sheathed inside all of your slick heat. “c’mere darling, c’mere let me love you,” his arms hook around your shoulders to keep you anchored down on his throbbing dick, his forked veins pushing against pleasure spots that only he can discover, filling you with all of his love. 

neither of you will last long like this, both of you shaking and sweaty messes in one another’s arms—diluc fucks you, claims you with slow rolls of his hips up into yours, tip that leaks unbeliavle loads of precum smearing that same mix of milky white against your insides, churning you up and making you see starts. you gasp and claw at his broad back, bite down on his flexing shoulders as the redhead sucks bruises and love bites into your neck— knowing they won’t be fading any time soon.

he hisses when your sensitive nipples brush against each other, when you start to circle your hips and grind your slick pussy down on him in tune to his rhythmic thrusts, his balls heavy with cum just for you slapping up against the curve of your ass. “i love you,” diluc moans heartily, pressing his forehead against your own while your bodies dance together in feverish movements, smearing your arousal against his thighs and stomach. “i love you, you’re so—fuck, you’re so good sweetheart.”

“‘m gonna cum f’you, ‘luc,” you tell him earnestly, hiccuping over the salacious squelch of your pussy as he rams into you— your juices dripping down his balls. “love you s’much, don’t stop…please don’t fucking stop—!” you pant onto diluc’s mouth, hot and heavy while his adoration and lust for you spreads through your body like a wildfire, heating you up from the inside out. 

“yeah you love me…i love you, never gonna stop,” he grunts back, fingertips digging into your shoulders and your waist as he lifts and drops you down onto his aching cock. you’re tight around diluc, locking him into your sweet pussy until he can barely pull out— jamming into your g-spot over and over, sending you both hurtling over the edge as you clamp down on him for the final time.

gentle ‘i love you’s are thrown into the sex tainted air, your cunt streaming with your arousal as you shake and quiver and cry in your lover’s arms— and diluc barely lets you go, filling you up to the brim with thick waves of his hot white seed, his hips stuttering and fucking more of his cum into you. 

“p-promise, promise you'll always come after me,” you murmur against diluc’s lips when you finally come down, sharing a sweaty and teary eyed kiss with hand on his chest to feel his heartbeat steady. “s-swear on it.” you say.

and all diluc can do is smile lovingly, realising the rain has stopped as the sun shines through the curtains of his living room. 

“i will always come after you, for as long as i live.” 

#tteokdoroki #diluc x reader #diluc x you #diluc smut #diluc imagines #diluc ragnivindr imagines #diluc ragnivindr smut #diluc ragnivindr x reader #kaeya x reader #kaeya x you #kaeya angst #diluc angst #kaeya imagines #kaeya smut #kaeya alberich x reader #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #diluc thirst

[undomel]

  The Undómiel chronicles, also known as Adelina's portrayal notes, in their full extent,

I.

  Arwen was the first to notice that Frodo is in need of healing, offering him her place in the Undying Land to ensure he would find it [healing]. The fact there was a place for her, to begin with, I parallel with Lúthien's choice (which is, too, narratively important, as it is spoken by Arwen herself), who was either to be mortal or had the option to be counted among the Ainur. It is, in my opinion, not necessarily true for Arwen to be equal to Lúthien wholly, albeit because of their existing juxtaposition, I cannot veto it, either, and it is my belief that a similar scenario may or may not have been true for her, had she made a different choice to her foremother. Furthermore, it speaks to her wisdom, no less, that she is the one to notice Frodo's suffering and to offer a means to better it. This, naturally, is a result of an action taken prior, which leads me to believe it may or may not have been collaborated via the only Ainur Arwen knew, Olórin [Gandalf] as at the time it was, Arwen has since chosen mortality (and if she had been in contact with the Ainu prior, she was no longer in contact with them after [and I do portray her as having contact, as Undómiel).

  To support my claims, I offer quotes below,

  from the mention of the choice of Lúthien, and Arwen's offer,

A gift I will give you. For I am the daughter of Elrond. I shall not go with him now when he departs to the Havens; for mine is the choice of Lúthien, and as she so have I chosen, both the sweet and the bitter. But in my stead you shall go, Ring-bearer, when the time comes, and if you then desire it. If your hurts grieve you still and the memory of your burden is heavy, then you may pass into the West, until all your wounds and weariness are healed.

  to the professor's letters, wherein her confirms Arwen's contact with the Ainur via the Ainu Olórin [Gandalf],

 He appears at first to have had no sense of guilt (III 224-5);* 1 he was restored to sanity and peace. But then he thought that he had given his life in sacrifice: he expected to die very soon. But he did not, and one can observe the disquiet growing in him. Arwen was the first to observe the signs, and gave him her jewel for comfort, and thought of a way of healing him. [4] It is not made explicit how she could arrange this. She could not of course just transfer her ticket on the boat like that! For any except those of Elvish race `sailing West’ was not permitted, and any exception required `authority’, and she was not in direct com­munication with the Valar, especially not since her choice to become `mortal’. What is meant is that it was Arwen who first thought of sending Frodo into the West, and put in a plea for him to Gandalf (direct or through Galadriel, or both), and she used her own renunciation of the right to go West as an argument. Her renunciation and suffering were related to and enmeshed with Frodo’s: both were parts of a plan for the regeneration of the state of Men. Her prayer might therefore be specially effective, and her plan have a certain equity of exchange. No doubt it was Gandalf who was the authority that accepted her plea. The Appendices show clearly that he was an emissary of the Valar, and virtually their plenipotentiary in accomplishing the plan against Sauron. He was also in special accord with Cirdan the Ship-master, who had surrendered to him his ring and so placed himself under Gandalf’s command. Since Gandalf himself went on the Ship there would be so to speak no trouble either at embarking or at the landing.

II.

  Arwen is neither an Elf nor Man. Being the daughter of Elrond, she is able to choose, as her father had, as his forebearers did, to be counted among either elves or men (ultimately, choosing Lúthien's choice, and therefore mortality).

  Despite her genetical (for a lack of a better word,) half-elven status, however, Arwen is never treated as such [half-elven] unless in letters, despite being, genetically (for a lack of a better word), no less or more elf than her brothers, who, in the narrative, are not referred to as elves in a single instance, but the half-elven, singled out as such in all instances where they are mentioned.   

  This, however, does not happen with Arwen, who, for a lack of a better word, once more, is put on a (proverbial) pedestal,

  To support my claims, I offer quotes below,

  from Arwen's introduction,

So it was that Frodo saw her whom few mortals had yet seen; Arwen, daughter of Elrond, in whom it was said that the likeness of Lúthien had come on earth again; and she was called Undómiel, for she was the Evenstar of her people.

  to the mentions of her twin brothers, Elladan and Elrohir,

So much alike were they, the sons of Elrond, that few could tell them apart: dark-haired, grey-eyed, and their faces elven-fair.

  once,

The company halted, and there was not a heart among them that did not quail, unless it were the heart of Legolas of the Elves, for whom the ghosts of Men have no terror.

  twice,

And from that evening onward the Nazgûl came and followed every move of the army. They still flew high and out of sight of all save Legolas...

  thrice,

Lo! lords and knights and men of valour unashamed, kings and princes, and fair people of Gondor, and Riders of Rohan, and ye sons of Elrond, and Dúnedain of the North, and Elf and Dwarf, and greathearts of the Shire.

  Narratively, Arwen bears an "odd" status (as, in it [the narrative] she is talked in relation to her people, her mother's kin, and whereas her half-elven heritage is mentioned in letters, it is not mentioned in the narration per se).

  As Undómiel, Arwen has a nearly Ainur-like standing, however, and it is this why I believe she is not seen as half-elven, despite very, very much being half-elven. Undómiel is what defines her personhood until her choice [to become mortal] does, and as she [Undómiel], she has a role to fulfill. A role that I ascribe to the Quenya-speaking population of "her" people [the Ñoldor?], due to it being given in Quenya, an epessë, an after-name (wherein and/or which she was bestowed), to begin with.

  Her people, moreover, are mentioned in separation to her mother's kin (with whom she dwelled). It begs the question.. who is she important to? Which specific group?

  [The Quenya-speakers].

  Undoubtedly, Undómiel may (or may not) be interpreted as an Ainu-like figure to the Quenya-speaking population of her people [the Ñoldor? The exiled Ñoldor?]. It is for this that I decided to portray all and/or any mentions of Undómiel as used to ward off darkness. Undómiel evokes light where darkness is to fall. It is her role to ensure that the path of those she is sacred to will be void of said darkness should they call on her name, for where Undómiel steps, light follows..

  III.

  I will not speak on Arwen's rule as a queen here, per se, but I will draw a comparison of Arwen to another figure, to Melian.

 Melian and Arwen are both foreign queens in foreign land (foreigners, in a political situation where their social standing is marked by their foreignness), they are both wise women, in their respective roles, and they are both fated to endure the loss of love, and only then, to depart the world as they know. Arwen bears her [Melian's daughter's] likeness, but, ultimately, Melian's fate (in how I portray her).

  To support my [wise-woman] claims, I offer quotes below,

  IV.

  In line with what is given above, Arwen will be portrayed as a fae-like (the equivalent of the prior mentioned Ainu-like) figure, as Melian was intended to be.

  V.

  If the fairy-tale aspect is excluded, Arwen's foreignness does complicate her status as queen, her queendom. It is, nearly, a political nightmare, not non-manageable, but not necessarily manageable.

  VI.

  Arwen struggles with being mortal, with mortality, physically, psychologically.. In addition, it is due her struggle, moreover, I portray that Arwen bears children only twice, a son, Eldarion, and twin daughters.

  To support my claims, I offer quotes below,

But I say to you, King of the Númenoreans, not till now have I understood the tale of your people and their fall. As wicked fools I scorned them, but I pity them at last. For if death is indeed, as the Eldar say, the gift of the One to Men, it is bitter to receive.

VII.

  Arwen does not take Glorfindel's place, as per the film's portrayal — she is a skilled horseback rider, however, she does not engage in warfare as seen in the film. It is not to say she is defenseless, nevertheless, she is not. Arwen is a "magic" user similarly to how Melian was.

IX.

  She is a symbol of hope to her people, similarly to how Aragorn is to his. Moreover, she brings hope to Aragon as well.

  To support my claims, I offer quotes below,

And then wonder took him, and a great joy; and he cast his sword up in the sunlight and sang as he caught it. And all eyes followed his gaze, and behold! upon the foremost ship a great standard broke, and the wind displayed it as she turned towards the Harlond. There flowered a White Tree, and that was for Gondor; but Seven Stars were about it, and a high crown above it, the signs of Elendil that no lord had borne for years beyond count. And the stars flamed in the sunlight, for they were wrought of gems by Arwen daughter of Elrond; and the crown was bright in the morning, for it was wrought of mithril and gold. Thus came Aragorn son of Arathorn, Elessar, Isildur’s heir, out of the Paths of the Dead, borne upon a wind from the Sea to the kingdom of Gondor; and the mirth of the Rohirrim was a torrent of laughter and a flashing of swords, and the joy and wonder of the City was a music of trumpets and a ringing of bells.

X.

 Arwen "loses" her Undómiel status, upon her mortality. Not the epessë, not the regard, but the role

#long / #long post /

[candied-boys]

Another - Rio x F! Reader Part 5

When Emma chooses another, Rio has to go home without her... But there's more awaiting him than just forgotten memories...

Themes: hurt and healing, facing the past, learning to love again, aka angst with a happy ending!

Warnings: angst, Rio route spoilers, eventual smut, written from Rio's POV

Part 4

As promised, you've dined together every morning since. Some days Valerie joins too, depending on her mood — it turns out she can be quite fussy when she first wakes, preferring her wet nurse over anyone else until she's fed. But on the days she has come, she sits in your lap while her mother coaxes her into trying nibbles of your cooking.

You've long known the joy of sharing food with someone you love, and you’re all too familiar with the way your heart races when that cherished person eats your cooking, but you never expected the thrill it would be to have this tiny picky eater smile and reach for more after finally landing on a creation she likes.

Though the time you can spend with your daughter is little, your affection for her has quickly grown to be uncontainable. It's baffling really. You've never had much interest in children. The ones playing in the streets of Rholodite never caught your attention. Despite all the dreams of your future with her, you never gave much thought to starting a family. You wanted all her time for yourself.

So why do you long to see those cheeks round with laughter and those eyes shimmer with delight? You wonder if it's merely because she showed interest in you first, or if this unfamiliar yearning to be closer to her is driven by some twisted hope that you could rewrite your past by giving her a better life.

Such are the questions that haunt you in the silence when your quill pauses its scratching across piles of documents. Like one possessed, you find yourself seeking answers whenever your duties end early enough to afford you time.

Tonight you arrive at Valerie's nursery to discover unfamiliar melodies seeping into the hallway from beyond the heavy double doors. The sweet ring of some unknown instrument mixes with unintelligible lyrics. Only when the song eventually fades do you dare to cross the threshold.

“You play beautifully. It sounds quite different from an arpa doppia. What is it?” you query softly as you approach, noting with a hint of disappointment that Valerie is already fast asleep.

“It's my mother's clàrsach. It's not as popular as it once was in Jade, but I love it,” she smiles wistfully.

Pulling up a seat next to the crib you recall, “Oh, that's right. You told me the first day I returned that your mother was from Jade. How did she end up in Benitoite?”

“You remember my father is a merchant?”

You nod, petting Valerie's angel soft hair while she continues, “He was in Jade for business negotiations and was invited to a salon hosted by an acquaintance of his trade partner. It turned out to be quite a crowded event, and when he stepped out into the gardens for a bit of fresh air he stumbled across a hushed group gathered in the pavilion at the centre.”

“Hushed?”

“They were all waiting for my mother to start playing again. He always said that he thought she'd cast a spell over him because he walked right up to her when she finished the next song to ask for her hand in marriage,” she giggles.

“In front of all those people?!” you blurt and instantly check you didn't wake the baby.

“Yes, and in Benitoitian too! She didn't understand a word he said, but a few gentlemen in the crowd did and as you can imagine they didn't appreciate it.”

“How did they end up together if they couldn't even communicate?”

“He has quite the long-suffering constitution,” she shrugs, and you notice the tension that used to linger in her posture when around you has faded over the few months.

“Ah, so he's stubborn?” you conclude.

“Very. He postponed his return and began studying the language, all the while trying to find a way to meet her again.”

“But you can't just court a noble’s daughter as you please.”

“Exactly. He said he couldn't get her voice out of his head for weeks while he hunted down every bit of information that he could use to woo her family. In the end, he managed to arrange a business deal that brought a hefty profit to my grandfather, and in exchange was allowed to marry my mother.”

“But they didn't even know one another at that point. What if she hadn't liked him?”

“You really have changed, Valerio,” she murmurs, her expression forlorn as you catch it out of the corner of your eye. “You should know as well as anyone that neither consent nor love have ever been prerequisites for marriage.”

“It should be…” you grumble, a scowl fixed on the sleeping cherub at your side. “I'd never marry Valerie off to someone she didn't love…”

“I wouldn't either… but I don't think arranged marriages are all bad. My mother and father love one another dearly now… and I love you…”

If only it were as simple as casting a spell, you'd willingly let her bewitch you with a song just to forget the pain.

“Would you tell me…” you stumble, dredging up all the courage you have to face your past, “how it happened?”

Her delicate hues momentarily reflect the tempered sky beyond the grand window.

“Come,” she pleads with those same hues. “The days grow long. Walk with me while it's still light.”

Dusk tints the shoreline in its solemn shades where you walk arm in arm — a heavy silence filling the gaps between the kiss of the waves on the sand. You're nearly startled when her gentle voice breaks through your thoughts to draw you back to her.

Whispering well wishes, you leave your daughter with a kiss to her forehead before standing and offering your elbow to your wife.

“You know, you used to take me for walks in the evening like this when we were courting.”

“Do you mean after my mother introduced us but before the engagement?”

“Yes, though you stopped as soon as the relationship was made official…” she confesses, eyes tracing the tide line of broken shells at her feet.

It doesn't surprise you, but it still stings.

Hoping against hope, you ask warily, “Were they ever pleasant walks? What did we talk about?”

“Well, we didn't speak much. You had all my background information investigated, so there wasn't much I could tell you about my past.”

Bitterly you guess how the rest of it went, “And I had no interest in coming to know you as a person, so I didn't ask anything else, is that it?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. I'd like to think you wouldn't have paid as much attention as you did had you lacked interest entirely.”

“Oh?” you echo in jaded disbelief.

“You watched my gaze, to which flowers it fell for a moment longer than to others and had bouquets of them sent to my chambers. You hung your jacket over my shoulders before I even noticed I felt chilly, telling me that it showed in the fine hairs at the nape of my neck when I asked how you knew. Little things like that…”

“That all sounds very calculated,” you reply after a moment pausing to look out over the ocean together.

“Isn't everything in life? If you calculated that paying attention and sending flowers would benefit your relationship and your future, it's hardly different than one who professes undying love and sends jewels to capture the heart of their lover. Both are intended to influence and carry forward the relationship, are they not?”

“I suppose… but at least the latter is sincere.”

Her gaze twines with yours where she looks up over your shoulder to answer, “If you weren't sincere, Valerio, you might just as well have sent any variety of flower or something else entirely. Why pay such mind to my unspoken preferences when you never had any need to win me over in the first place?”

“Why do you have such faith in me despite knowing how callous I am? Even if you fell for me because of little things like that, surely all that came after should've been enough to crush that budding affection.”

Turning into your way, she halts your step with a hand to your heart.

“Valerio, I admired you for years before your mother ever introduced us. I never loved you merely because you gave me flowers or showed me a little kindness. I fell in love with a man who battled tirelessly against inequality and unending cruelty. A man who cherished his mother with all his heart. A man capable of anything he set his mind to.”

Caring, determined, hard-working — everything that made you fall in love with her.

You of all people should know that to love means to appreciate someone for who they are whether or not they return your feelings.

Perhaps you'd thought that she'd deluded herself into believing you were kinder than you really had been so that she could cope with your death, assumed that she was in love with the idea of you rather than the wretched man you were and still are.

Oh how willingly blind you've been, refusing to face the mirror that she is. How long have you denied that her unrequited feelings for you are the perfect reflection of your own simply to avoid admitting that it is you who hurts her most.

Laying a gloved palm atop the one still pressed against your heart and cupping her soft cheek with the other, you hold her gaze tenderly.

“To be so long suffering, to have such grace... Perhaps your father was right about your mother being more than mere human for his daughter is certainly an angel.”

“Valerio?” her voice is but a whisper over the sea breeze as a silk wrapped hand wipes away a tear trailing down your face.

“All I do is bring you pain, my angel, and I'm so sorry to ask you to bear more, but if you can find it in your heart to be patient… Then please, wait for me a little longer that I may one day come to love you as much as you deserve.”

Part 6

🧡🫣🧡Tag list: @drachonia @outtayourmouth @maries-gallery @lamiefromage @tele86 @omkookie @queengiuliettafirstlady @altairring

#ikemen prince #ikepri #rio ortiz #ikemen prince rio #ikemen prince rio ortiz #ikemen rio #ikepri rio #ikepri fanfic #ikepri fanfiction

[miniar]

To mourn the memory of innocence.

Most if not all of us can remember something from our youth, something that meant a lot to us, something that coloured our world in a positive sense, that we later learned wasn't all that great, and I've been thinking of that recently in connection with the ongoing conversation about a certain wealthy author and her crusade against the human rights of a small marginalized part of society.

The innocence of youth is a frequent guest star of these conversations and while ignorance is often the more accurate word, innocence isn't exactly wrong, it's just, the children aren't the ones who are innocent in that context. I mean, children are innocent, but the "innocence of youth", to me, is more about how in our ignorance, in our naivete and lack of worldly experience, lack of knowledge, we tend to assume that all the things we enjoy are innocent.

There are two ways this hits.

One is that we don't see the damage done by prejudiced tropes baked into our media because we just don't have the knowledge or perspective, the other is that we want to believe that the authors, singers, actors, creators of all kinds that have brought us such joy, relief, etc, are generally good people.

And then we grow up.

We grow up and start to unpack lessons we internalized from that which we truly and honestly enjoyed, and start to see the damage.

We grow up and start to learn how even the most beautiful art can be created by someone capable of selfish cruelty.

And it hurts.

It sours the memory of things that meant so much to us, that helped make us who we are today. Things that are still a part of who we are.

Songs we sang along with feel bitter in our mouths when we listen properly to the words, knowing what we now know about the people who made the music, the background sound of our youth.

The tv-show laugh track feels cold, mocking, cruel, in the background of the photo of our smiling faces.

The book's spine feels heavy and crooked and wrong on our shelves, not because of how we used to read it under the covers when we should be asleep, but because we now know where the money the author made from it is going.

And It Hurts.

We find ourselves mourning our own ignorance, sure, but more than anything, each of us has been betrayed and we may even feel as though we've been taken advantage of, tricked into becoming complicit with those that have and still do harm.

Every time we sang their praises to a friend before we knew, before we could understand, feels like a sin.

And It Hurts.

I get why it'd be easier to pretend that the harm never happened. To close your eyes and choose to remain ignorant, but that doesn't solve anything. It doesn't heal us. It doesn't help us. And it doesn't stop the harm.

It makes sense that some of us aren't ready to mourn, aren't ready to face the reality of the situation, but that will not change it.

Maybe, one day, a person will grow up and learn that people are flawed and some people are really very not good at all, without looking back at their youth to find the ghastly presence of bigots and abusers dotted throughout the background of memories, and have to work through and reconcile the harm fed to them and fed by them to find their peace with their own past, but that person is probably not born yet.

The world hasn't become what it needs to be for that to happen... yet.

The only way we can get there is to demand better of our entertainers than bigots and abusers. And that starts with refusing to keep promoting and funding bigots and abusers.

It hurts to mourn the memory of presume innocence of that which gave you joy. It hurts to grow sometimes.

But we have to let go of that which does harm or the harm will only continue. Choosing to hold on to these things out of desperate nostalgia makes it worse.

#This is about many people

[theyareweird]

Nurturing Beastman – Chapter 8

Tragedy

“Oh my goodness!” The doctor cried. “A Nurturer was abducted by a feral from our tribe?! I’ll notify Chief Yaya immediately to have a search party sent out.” She exclaimed, rushing out the hollowed-out tree where she set up her clinic.

Kianna stood anxiously beside Nayuki’s cot. “Uh, what’s a feral?”

“Your tribe must have sheltered you, Sweetheart.” Nayuki said, closing his eyes for a moment. Kianna wanted to ask about the sudden pet name, but held her tongue for Nayuki to answer her question. “A Feral is either an unwanted Nature Beastman or a rejected Nature Beastman.” He replied.

Kianna had a bad feeling based on Nayuki’s negative word choices, but she knew the information would be important. “What’s the difference between them?” She asked.

Nayuki heavily sighed, but his brows furrowed in a serious manner. “Unwanted nature beastman are born feral. This applies to animals like crocodiles, snakes, lizards and insects. They’re cold-blooded beastman who were raised in harsh environments, with a cruel Nature Beastman parent and an abused Nurturer parent.”

“These Nature Beastman are automatically unwanted at birth?” Kianna repeated with sadness in her amber colored eyes. She couldn’t help but feel sympathy for these creatures because they can’t choose how they were raised or what animal they were born as either. A part of Kianna could relate as her own mother didn’t want her.

“Yes. Nurturers find these feral’s true animal forms to be terrifying, creepy or disgusting. They’re too scared to look at or even touch one; let alone give birth to their children.” Nayuki explained. The cat then averted his eyes elsewhere. He stared off into the distance and a glint of sorrow appeared in his eyes. “Rejected nature beastman were once mated to a Nurturer, but had their spousal relationships canceled.” Nayuki hissed. “Rejected Ferals can be from any animal clan, like the owl or hyena clans.” He stated.

“Why would a Nurturer do that?” Kianna asked. This was clearly a touchy subject, but she needed to know more about this world.

“Nurturers selfishly fall out of love with their mates.” Yaya stated through a sigh. The elderly chief had entered the hollowed-out tree clinic from below alongside the female tiger doctor. “But it’s against the law for any Nurturer to cancel their spousal relationship without good reason.” He explained in a huff.

Based on the sour expression on the chief’s face, rejecting a Nature Beastman because the Nurturer doesn’t love their mate anymore wasn’t a good reason. This meant Kianna was stuck with Nayuki by law in this world. “Why? Isn’t it better to leave someone who doesn’t love you anymore than be hated and miserable with them?” Kianna questioned.

“As a Nurturer, you can love whoever you want and have multiple partners.” Yaya sighed. “Nature Beastman can only bind their souls to one Nurturer their entire lives. We mate for life.” He emphasized, placing a hand on his chest. “If a Nature Beastman is rejected by their Nurturer, they will go insane from heartbreak and become savages; hence the name, Rejected Feral. Their only salvation comes from rekindling their broken relationship with said Nurturer... but they’re often too cruel to take back the Nature Beastman.” Yaya explained with a heavy heart.

“Even if the Nature Beastman were miraculously taken back by their mate, a part of them would always feel lost and hurt.” Nayuki mumbled.

“You mustn’t talk!” The doctor snapped at Nayuki. “It will take longer for you to heal if you do not rest.” She scolded.

The thought of Nature Beastman only being able to love one person their entire lives was cruel to Kianna. Especially if their Nurturer was a bad person. However, she couldn't dwell on the idea and needed to focus on the situation about Onica.

Kianna then completely turned her attention onto the chief. “So, an Unwanted Feral took Onica?” She clarified.

“Yes.” Yaya nodded. “Only Unwanted Ferals kidnap Nurturers. Rejected Ferals will kill your friend on sight.” He stated.

Kianna was still confused. If Rejected Ferals directly slaughter Nurturers out of madness, then it’s obvious the Unwanted Ferals don’t want the Nurturers they abduct to die since Onica was taken alive. Seeing as her friend is still living and the snake has no intentions of killing them, why were the villagers panicking at the thought of Onica being taken? Why was the snake woman instantly discriminated against and looked down on for merely touching Onica? If Kianna didn’t know any better, it looked like a Nature Beastman trying to claim a Nurturer as her mate. Based on what Onica and Kianna have experienced thus far, this kind of behavior is normal and highly appreciated in the Beast World.

“I understand why Nurturers might not like these Unwanted Ferals…” Kianna said, shuddering at the idea of beastman insects. “But what is so bad about these beastman that they have to be shunned?” She frowned.

“Unwanted Ferals imprison the Nurturers they catch. These beastman constantly force them to have their offspring. If a Nurturer refuses, they’ll be beaten. Unwanted Ferals don’t care about a Nurturer’s feelings… they have no regard for their mates.” Yaya warned.

Kianna’s heart dropped. Her eyes were now full of fear for her friend. Onica was going to be forcefully used as breeding stock by the abusive nature beastman who took them earlier. Kianna simply hoped her friend didn’t do anything to anger their captor.

Meanwhile, anxiety stirred inside Onica. They sat in the curve of Veronica’s left arm as her free hand pushed aside various branches and vines in their path. Despite being held, the snake woman still towered over Onica. Being around a six foot tall beastman is quite intimidating. Onica may currently be the one in danger, but they hoped to have stopped Veronica on time from potentially crippling or killing Nayuki.

“Where are we going?” Onica asked, finally breaking the silence between them.

“My nest.” Veronica replied.

Deep in another part of the humid jungle, Onica and Veronica eventually arrived at the snake’s nest. A quaint pond came into view. Across the water, a cave stood several feet from it. Ivy crawled up the sides of the cave and camouflaged the hideaway into the greenery. In fact, Onica didn’t realize they were being carried into the nest until Veronica parted the thick ivy vines, which hung over the entrance and hid her home a little too well.

The cave is spacious, but not deep. Onica is pleasantly surprised to note how dry and clean the shelter is inside. They were afraid it would be wet and moist, a perfect breeding ground for moss, mold and other deadly bacteria. However, this is a perfect place to avoid harsh weather.

Veronica finally gently set Onica down onto the smooth cave floor. “I found this place by chance.” She stated.

Onica subconsciously smiled. “That’s amazing!” They were thrilled a place like this existed in the wilderness. It gave Onica hope they could survive.

A small smile tugged on Veronica’s lips. “I’m glad you like your new home.” She said, gliding a hand down Onica’s scalp.

Onica’s smile immediately fell. This was the second direct physical contact the snake woman had displayed towards them. Unfortunately for Onica, Veronica was speaking their love language, but they weren’t going to forget how cruel she had been to Nayuki for trying to save them. As far as they were concerned, this nature beastman was attempting to lure them into a false sense of security.

“New home? Why did you take me?” Onica questioned.

What little expression on Veronica’s face dropped. “The Nature Beastman of your tribe are worthless.” She flatly replied.

Onica was stunned. How blunt can one person be? “Uh… What?” Onica gawked.

“It’s from my understanding Nature Beastman chiefs and elders are in charge of educating the Nurturers of their clan. Especially if one’s parents aren’t present. Generally, Nature Beastman of a tribe also assist in teaching Nurturers about our world.” Veronica explained.

“Uh, it is!” Onica blurted. Based on how Veronica was treated earlier, she has been forbidden to participate in society. Whatever she knows of the Beast World must be correct compared to a human from another universe. Besides, Onica is still determined to conceal the fact they’re not from this world. Who knows what these powerful nature beastman would do to them if they were discovered.

“Snake Nature Beastman will use their shedded skin to appease their spouses.” Veronica said in a low voice.

Onica hummed in thought. “You use your skin to attract a mate?” They clarified, trying to understand the new information. Onica concluded different nature beastman have unique ways of wooing partners, like the animals of their home world.

 “You accepted me as your mate when you picked up my skin.” Veronica explained.

Onica’s mind was too preoccupied with gathering knowledge to have realized what kind of situation they unknowingly walked into. After Veronica finally revealed why they were there, the petite person stood there in shock. Onica wasn’t kidnapped, their mate simply took them home. They then looked down at the folded ‘material’ in their arms. Onica’s jaw dropped open, shuddering at the thick layers of skin in their grasp.

Veronica then took back her skin from Onica’s arms. “I’m glad you like my skin.” She said, unfolding it in her hands. Veronica honestly thought her skin wouldn’t be appealing due to it being black, but a nurturer still found it to be pretty.

“Uh… What does having a mate mean?” Onica asked, forcing a smile.

“It means you are my spouse.” Veronica replied.

Onica’s heart sped up. They were beginning to nervously sweat under their arms. Veronica said spouse. Onica became married to a snake? Veronica is their wife all of a sudden? Courting in the Beast World is quite direct and brutal.

Kianna Komori OC by: @nunezs-stuff

#nurturing beastman #beastman #story #lgbtq+ #queer #nonbinary

[starlitangels]

Soot and Suds

Have some wildly self-indulgent waffling. It’s my treat to myself for not missing a day of the Redacted Sexyman polls. @zozo-01​ as promised! 2.7k words

Important Note: While Starlight is still gender neutral, this does feature a long-haired Starlight with hair straight enough to wash fairly easily.

—

“Careful. The ground is pretty loose around here,” Avior cautioned. I nodded. The gravel under the soles of my shoes felt less stable than one of the gravel driveways of an apartment I lived in while I’d been attending the academy. Avior offered me a hand. Normally, I would have taken it, but I didn’t want us both to fall if one slipped. I waved the offer off and held my arms out to either side to maintain my balance. Avior didn’t drop his hand. His way of letting me know the offer was still open.

We picked our way down the slope, choosing each step carefully. Not daring to talk for fear of getting distracted from safety.

“Avior, what are we even doing—WHOA!” I shrieked as my foot slipped out from under me. I hit the gravel hard and started to slide.

Avior shouted my name.

My slide turned into a roll. I tumbled down the hill, gravel digging into my skin with every impact. I cried out in fear and pain as I went down.

At the bottom of the hill, I spilled into a ditch and finally came to a halt. Everything hurt and I was pretty sure my ankle was twisted. I groaned and tried to to stretch. The fire of pain along my nerves burned with the movement. I winced and hissed.

“Are you alri—oh, God,” Avior’s voice said. I looked up in time to see him jumping into the ditch. He landed not far from me and knelt beside me. “That was a hell of a fall.” His hands hovered over me. “Where does it hurt?”

“Everywhere,” I ground out.

“Okay. Got it. Triage, then. Where does it hurt worst?”

I grunted and patted my leg. “Right ankle.”

“Okay.” He nodded, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “Hold still. Please.” He swore under his breath. “Your hands are pretty banged up too.”

I managed a tight nod.

“Hold still. Let me heal this. Keep your eyes on me. Don’t look down at your body yet. Please.”

I closed my eyes.

“That works too.”

Still in so much pain I could barely think, my hold on my consciousness slipped as Avior healed me. “A… Avior…” I mumbled.

“Yeah?” He sounded breathless.

“… wanna go home.”

He sighed. “Me too.”

“First Circle?”

“Is that where you want to go?” Avior asked. I nodded with a grunt. “Okay. Then that’s where we’ll go.” I felt his hands slide under me and scoop me up. “You can sleep. I’ll carry you back to the First Circle. You’ve got… a lot of healing magic in your system. You’ll probably sleep for several hours. Don’t worry and don’t fight it. I’ll keep you safe, okay?”

“Mkay,” I mumbled, resting my head on Avior’s chest.

He cradled me close to him gently—

And that was the last thing I knew before I passed out.

—

I came to with a deep inhale. Avior was quietly humming somewhere nearby. Wincing at the headache, I shuffled.

“Hey, hey. Whoa. Don’t move just yet,” Avior said. “You’re gonna give yourself a head-rush.” I felt his hand rest on my shoulder. Gentle but firm in not letting me try to sit up. I peeled open sticky, heavy eyes to see him staring down at me in the half-light of the cave we’d turned into a home base. His irises were gold and glittered in the flames of the hellscape.

“Hi,” I said.

“Hey,” he replied. “How are you feeling?”

I blinked several times, assessing my body without looking at it. “Bad,” I decided. “Sore. But that’s it.”

“Good. The healing magic should take care of that eventually. It’s just got to work its way to your muscles. It can be slow.”

“I know. I know how it works.” I shuffled, trying to find a more comfortable position. “Are you okay?”

“I’m not the one who rolled fifty feet down a rocky hill.”

“No. You’re just the one who had to carry a fully-grown adult human up three circles of Hell.”

He snickered. “Do try to remember that I’m a demon, please. I’m not bound to the limitations of muscle cells like you are. I’m fine.”

I stuck my tongue out at him weakly. He stuck his out back. We both rolled our eyes—but we were both smiling.

“If it makes you feel any better, you probably feel better than you look,” he added.

I lifted my head and looked down.

My clothes were torn. Where my skin was exposed, there were no bruises—but I was covered in dirt, dried blood, soot, and ash. I made a face. “Mm,” I grunted. I raised a hand and focused on my magic.

The cleaning spell got most of the stains out of my clothes, but not my skin.

With a sigh, I flopped my head back down onto the ground as gently as I could against the stone. “Shame there are no showers in Hell, huh?” I joked humorlessly. “I mean, I could even go for a bath right now and I haven’t taken one of those in ages.”

Avior’s eyes swept me up and down as he bit down on his lower lip. He sucked in a deep breath through his nose and closed his eyes.

A damp, sudsy sponge appeared in his hand, a bucket beside him. “May I?” He gestured with his free hand to my arm closest to him.

“Uh… sure,” I said.

He settled more comfortably on the ground and started to gently scrub the gunk off my skin, dunking the sponge into the bucket to rinse out some of the dirt and soot every so often when the grime started to smear instead of come off. He kept humming quietly. So quietly that normally I wouldn’t have heard him over the whipping wind—but in our little cave, I could hear him.

“Why are you doing this?” I asked. “You could just poof it with magic.”

“I could,” Avior agreed. “But there’s something more refreshing about taking the time to get clean, right?” I stared. How would he know? He barely spent any time physical. “Like how you like standing out in the rain because it feels like your soul is getting washed clean and you pretend the shower is a warm summer rain sometimes.”

I blinked. “You listened when I told you that?”

“I always listen.”

“Never act like it,” I muttered.

He leveled me with a sarcastic look. Before it softened into a tiny smile and he sponged more gunk off my arm. He didn’t say anything for a while. Just kept cleaning.

After a bit, my right arm was clean and he moved on to my left after moving his bucket so he could sit on my other side. I watched off-and-on, trying not stare at the way his wiry muscles flexed and rolled under the skin of his forearms. He looked business casual in jeans and a black polo shirt, but the way his shoulders stretched the sleeves of the polo was damn near obscene.

It was ridiculously difficult not to stare.

“Thank you,” I said.

He looked up from my hand and met my eyes. “For what?”

“Being gentle. And healing me. And helping me clean up.”

He looked away quickly, dabbing at dried blood on the back of my hand. “We do what we can for each other while we’re here, right? No one else is here to help us—makes sense to help each other.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s not appreciated, Avior.”

He paused his cleaning just long enough to get the mess out of the sponge and into the bucket, refusing to meet my eyes.

“Well… it’s nothing,” he mumbled. I opened my mouth, and he shot me a glare. “I know it’s not actually nothing. It’s most definitely something. But the effort is minimal, you word-obsessed menace.”

I managed a weak smile. “You know me so well.”

He rolled his eyes, still smiling, and finished up my left arm. “You… have a couple patches on your torso and back that need cleaning. Can I? I know it’s a lot more… intimate.”

“Go ahead,” I said. “You can lift my shirt if you need to.”

He nodded. “I’ll be careful.”

“And mind my sides. They’re ticklish.”

“I’ll do my best.” He gave me an amused smile, bigger than the others from the last few minutes. I smiled back.

I held as still as I could while he cleaned my torso. The water felt much colder against my warmer abdomen and made me shiver. Something I’d forgotten I could do in this overbearingly hot hellscape. Avior’s touch was soft against my skin, and he didn’t scrape the sponge roughly to clean. His delicacy almost tickled, but not quite.

“Can you roll up onto your side? Do you have the strength?”

“Let’s find out,” I said. With a lot of concentration, I managed to shimmy until I was lying on my side. My shirt slid up my spine and the sponge dabbed against my skin. Avior’s warm other hand held me steady so his pressure didn’t tilt me forward or the lack thereof tilt me back. I could feel slight calluses against my side. I wondered, vaguely, how a demon who spent the bare minimum amount of time possible on Terra could have calluses.

He guided me back down onto my back after finishing my back.

“Do you want me to do your legs too?”

I shook my head fervently. “No. Waaay too ticklish. I can do them myself when I’m feeling better.”

Avior nodded. In the blink of an eye, the bucket and sponge vanished. “Could I… could I wash your hair at least? It’s just as bad.”

I twisted my head, trying to see what he was talking about.

He picked up a lock of my hair and held it in my field of view. Dirt, ash, dried blood. Matting it and making it gross.

“Sure. Be gentle. I’ve always had a bit of a sensitive scalp. Pulling too hard hurts worse on me than anyone else, apparently.”

He nodded. “I’ll be careful. I promise.”

He narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw. The stone ground moved under me. Like a hairdresser’s sink, my neck was cradled. It wasn’t comfortable—it was still stone—but at least my head wasn’t hanging in a hole.

The same bucket as before reappeared in the hole out of the corner of my eye, full of clear water.

Avior gathered my hair gently and eased all the long ends into the bucket. A little metal cup appeared in his hand that he dipped into the water and brought up to soak my scalp. His other hand pressed firmly to my hairline to keep the water from flowing down my face and into my eyes. He repeated the action several times while I watched.

“You’re staring,” he said.

“You bite your lip when you concentrate,” I said. Not pointing out that he also narrowed his eyes, scrunched up his nose, and knitted his brows together too. There was something… cute about the look. Something authentic.

“Just in physical form,” he mumbled, pouring more water over my hair. The water was warmer than it was when he’d been washing my upper body. “Kinda hard to do in an astral form.”

I snorted. “And you call me a pedantic nightmare.”

“You are,” he said. Then went back to pouring water over my hair.

After a few more dousings, he set the cup off to the side. A muscle below his eye flickered.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Bucket and cup are both resisting me,” he said.

“Avior, you don’t have to—”

“I know. I want to. And it’s not pushing my limits. I can manage. Easily.” He gave me a sarcastic smirk and cupped one hand. I heard a whoosh of magic. The tropical scent of coconut filled our small cave, nearly drowned out by the acrid smell of smoke.

He rubbed his hands together and started to scrub his fingers gently over my scalp.

My eyelids fluttered as tingles rushed over my scalp and down my neck. I heard Avior huff out his nose quietly.

“What?” I mumbled.

“Nothing. You just… suddenly relaxed.”

I shrugged. “Feels good.”

That earned me a smile. “Good… I’m glad.”

“You? Glad? What’s the multiverse coming to?”

He chuckled. “Smart mouth.”

“Know-it-all.”

He scrubbed over the very back of my skull. Still soft, but his nails scratched slightly. My eyes rolled back and closed. I heard him smile, but decided not to say anything and just enjoy the feeling.

He worked the shampoo through my hair in slow, careful movements. Once my entire scalp was covered in soap, he brought the rest of my hair out of the water bucket and started to knead the shampoo into the rest of my hair. His fingers delicately but deftly unwound a few of the worst knots tangled into my hair.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

“Mmhmm…”

“Am I putting you to sleep?”

“Maybe a little.”

“Want me to stop?”

“No.”

“… Well that was a fast response.”

I didn’t say anything for a moment. “Keep going. Please.”

He chuckled, breathy and quiet. Almost a whisper. “Okay.” Both of his hands worked all of my hair together, scratching circles in my scalp. My breathing slowed down and the soreness all over seemed to dissipate. “Your hair is beautiful, by the way.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m guessing you get that a lot.”

I smiled lazily. “Mmhmm.”

“Well… I mean every word.”

“Thanks.”

I felt him wring some of the bubbles out of my hair. A pulse of magic and a quick peek over my shoulder revealed he’d swapped out the dirty water for fresh, new, clean water.

He went back to gently scrubbing. “How’s this?”

“Really nice.”

“Good. How’s the rest of you?”

“Manageable.”

“There’s enough healing magic still in your body to knock you out for a few more hours. You don’t have to fight the relaxation, if you want to get some more sleep.”

I watched the concentration in his gold eyes. He went back to biting his lip.

After a few more moments—that part of me wished would never end—the cup came back to wash the suds out of my scalp and hairline. “Avior?” I asked quietly. His eyes snapped to mine, eyebrows raised expectantly. “I don’t hate you, you know. I know we snipe and snap at each other but… you’re actually kind, deep down.”

His eyes fell away from mine. “Don’t like to see you hurt. I don’t hate you either.” He cleared his throat and finished washing the dirt, blood, ash, and soot from my hair. “There you go. You’re all done.”

I sat up—indeed giving myself a head-rush but ignoring it—and put my arms around his neck. He went rigid for a second, before relaxing and wrapping his arms around me in return. My wet hair hung in loose clumps, soaking the back of my shirt. It was actually a relief against the heat of Hell.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“Of course.” He cradled the back of my head in one of his hands, holding it close to his own head. He was steady and firm. Solid. Unyielding in the way that I’d learned demons could be. But not just out of stubbornness. He was a rock keeping me anchored.

Every day in this Hell, I appreciated his company more and more. Alone, I would have driven myself up the walls.

He sucked in a deep breath. “Do… do you want me to braid it?”

I grinned. “With magic or with your hands?”

“I was thinking my hands.”

“Sure.”

“Okay. Sit down right in front of me. Between my legs. I’ll braid it.”

I followed his instructions, my back pressing to his chest for a single brief moment as we adjusted our positions. I glanced at him before quickly looking away.

He cracked his knuckles. “One? Two? French? Dutch? Fishtail?”

“You know all of those?”

I heard him snicker. “Overbearing know-it-all with a superiority complex, remember? I know everything.”

I laughed. “Uh… fishtail, please.”

“You got it, sta… you got it.”

#Redacted ASMR #fic #Redacted Avior #Redacted Starlight #Redacted Audio #Starlit Fic #Avior x Starlight #Avior #Starlight #long hair reader #long haired reader

[cosmichighpriestess]

The Quest For Truth on Forgiveness and The Expansion of Consciousness

The purpose of this message is to reach you to your highest timeline and to let go of any baggage holding you back from becoming the highest version of yourSelf. When we talk about even mentioning the word forgiveness, most people go into a resistance. Remember you either have all of the resistance to healing or you have none of it. We are not excusing the abuser, letting them off the hook, we are not excusing anyone from their lower vibrational behavior and actions. We are shifting from anger and resentment to gratitude and joy.

Do you want to live in the illusionary past or do you want to live as the highest version of yourself? You are allowed to feel angry for AS LONG as you need to feel that sacred rage. No one should ever forsake your right to feel that anger, you can and you SHOULD be angry at what they did. Your boundaries have been violated, you have been neglected, disrespected, you have been traumatized; you do not need to blame yourself for how you reacted to that lower vibrational behavior any longer. Any real spiritual Master is not promoting victim mentality though. You want to release this heavy baggage, because when you feel good you will get everything you want.

Realize, they were not doing it to you- they were only hurting themselves and hurting God by ever disrespecting you, gossiping about you, neglecting your needs, betraying you, slandering your name, making fun of you, judging you or abusing you. Remember even the strongest most confident people still feel pain, but they know how to control themselves in a way where they have strong discipline, and boundaries for the people they do not tolerate.

Always remember, that person or abuser is in pain and suffering if their wounds are bleeding onto everyone else. If they knew better, they would do better. Everyone is doing the best they can within their state of realized consciousness. Knowledge is power. Nothing they are doing has anything to do with you, your worthiness, or who you are as a person. It's always about that other person judging themselves and their own inner unhealed wounds.Believe me when I say you are allowed to feel angry for as long as you need to.

But you choose to build yourself into a new version of yourself, it doesn't happen instantly. Always ask yourself, would the new version of me act this way or am I still acting like the old version of me I don't prefer? You can shift to a reality where that person was never abusive. Shift to a reality where they never hurt you to begin with by changing your story. You must become indifferent to what the 3d is showing, only accept it as real if you like what you are seeing. The world will conform to what you have decided. There's nothing to worry about because you are eternal, you have plenty of time to feel that anger if you need to feel it, heal to transcend it. But for those of you who are done feeling it, and the pain is too heavy now to carry, we are moving on, put it down. It doesn't belong to you. You will never be able to get them to treat you right, you must either switch realities or completely walk away both require you to walk away to heal yourself. Are you ready to shift to your highest timeline?

From a higher level you are placing yourself in circumstances over and over. The same lesson comes back for another layer of healing. Remember that the process of pain serves a Divine purpose. You made a high level promise to yourself that you would process the pain and you would start saying YES to every single experience. Don't attach yourself to circumstances, life is a constant flow of energy. To quote Bashar, Circumstances don't matter, only your state of being matters. Life is incapable of producing an event or condition that does not serve you in some way. You would begin to say yes to every experience joyfully in gratitude. Whenever you are feeling anger and frustration <<you are going to shift to a gratitude mindset. You cannot fail. Remember if you do not ever give up failure can never occur. Because you are eternal, you have plenty of time to practice. You will only continue to grow and expand.

"Thank you God for this triggering experience, lesson and perfection of this outcome." "I'm going to let go of the negative beliefs that make me react this way." Ask yourself, "What knowledge was I given during the event of this painful experience?" Always remember pain is self-imposed, if you feel it is unwanted you will fight against it feeling anger, resentment, struggle, and suffering. If it were bad for you it wouldn't be happening. The pain serves a higher purpose.

Remember you are the medicine. Every experience is directly related to your self worth, to get you to see your worth and love yourself. Forgive yourself first and you can more easily forgive others. The forgiveness is not for them, it's for you to heal. Without love and forgiveness we destroy ourselves. We must love and forgive all of creation or we will love none of it. The only response to pain is love. We must choose to love people the way they are, accept them, forgive them the way they never ended up growing into. They are a necessary darkness to our light. You must choose to say yes to suffering in order to transcend it.

To quote the Arcturian spiritual masters, The more you suffer the more ecstasy there is coming your way. Ecstasy MUST as a law be created in response to your suffering to keep a balance of energies throughout this beautiful Universe. If you have suffered, the ecstasy is yours for the taking. To quote Ryo, Forgiveness IS freedom, it takes too much suffering to keep holding on to it, you're anchoring yourself to the negative experience and the frequency of the lower dimensions by holding on to it. Forgive them, it takes too much energy to be in a constant flaming energy.

By holding on to the past, you will experience emotions such as anger, resentment, and negative thoughts which equal lower vibrations. Resentment is living in the past, anger is being passionate, believing that things need to change and your boundaries being disrespected. Bitterness shows where you need to heal, holding on to judgments of others and yourself. Always remember when you are judging others you are also judging yourself. You are rejecting a part of yourself. To quote Bashar, people, places and things are not permanent. It's an illusion. Everything changes and breaks down over time because it's an illusion, however your existence is always permanent. Say yes to every experience, joyfully in gratitude for serving you a lesson, remember the way you respond determines if you've mastered the lesson. Your reactions create your reality. ALL pain is self imposed. If it was bad for you it wouldn't be happening. Forgiveness is freedom.

#messages #rose messages

[novantinuum]

you can’t choose what stays and what fades away OR Reunited Alt POV fic? (I am eyeing doing that tag myself except. *glances at WIP folder*)

I am wiggling about my SU wips most of all, so I’mma selecting Reunited Alt POV fic (which LMAFO I need to come up with a banger of a title for so desperately, this one is like 2/3rds done so. Yeah.

This is a simple one to explain, it’s just the battle in Reunited but from Connie’s POV- thus, it covers everything that happens while Steven gets knocked into unconscious psychic ghost zone. Or, at least, my take on what happens. But uh… yeah. Watching your friend get absolutely trampled underfoot is inherently traumatizing, and I don’t think we as a fandom talk enough about this moment and how it might’ve impacted specifically Connie. Also I genuinely honest to god think Steven was seriously hurt from this- and that some of the fractures in his bones we see in SUF were from this strike- and that the reason he took so long to come to in “psychic ghost zone” even was that all his body’s energy was being routed towards Intense self healing. So keep that in mind re: snippit below:

_

Garnet keeps a watchful eye for any incoming projectiles as Connie skids to a screeching halt next to her friend’s comatose body lying limp in the sand. Okay. Okay. Here he is. Now all she’s gotta do is… carry him to a safe distance. Steeling her core in preparation, she squats down and tries to leverage herself to scoop him right up. Her legs, though… in the midst of her terror, her legs are simply too wobbly to bear his mass, and after one valiant but failed attempt she’s scared she’ll hurt herself (or him!) trying again. Which means… she’ll just have to drag him.

“Sorry—!” she says with a faint hiss of regret as she grasps both of his arms by the wrist and starts to pull him across the battle-swept sands. Sure enough to her suspicions, one of his shoulders definitely doesn’t feel like it’s aligned in its socket right, and she worries that yanking him along like this will only serve to further exacerbate it. Still, what other choice does she have? 

What choices do any of them have, all tangled up within the fallout of this thousand year war?

Ever-diligent in her role as lookout, Garnet circles around a few more times as Connie drags Steven off the battlefield, towards what remains of his house. She’s grateful for her help. Truly so. It allows her to focus her energy on protecting her best friend instead of constantly having to keep an eye out for stray attacks from the Diamonds. And boy, oh boy— she digs her heels into the sand, spent muscles all but screaming for her to rest, to drop her load and continue on alone— will her body need every last drop of energy she’s got. That’s why relief surges through her heart with all the ferocity of a tidal wave when Mr. Universe’s frantic voice comes into range once again. Because it means she’s here. She’s succeeded. She’s pulled him all the way to the base of the stairs, out of the way.

The exhaustion hits immediately. Huffing for a lungful of air, she drops the half-Gem’s arms to the ground and collapses to her knees. For an extended moment, the unwanted melody of warfare rings through her ears like canon fire. She can’t move. She can barely even breathe. She swears her friend’s dad is trying to say something to her— can feel his hesitant touch brushing against her shoulder in what barely counts as a whisper— but she can’t even manage to distinguish a single word. Her eyes brim with fresh tears, every last sensory input overloaded. It’s all too loud. It’s all too damn heavy. It’s all too—

“Connie,” Garnet pushes through the static with astute authority. 

She snaps her head up, her eyes flitting between the Crystal Gem leader (currently kneeling at her side) and a still panicking Mr. Universe (clutching his unconscious son’s hand). Her breath settles, slowly but surely. Her fingers twitch, tracing shallow patterns in the sand. The ringing lessens.

“Thank you,” she continues, pushing herself back to her full height. The long skirt of her wedding outfit flares behind her as she glances back towards the chaos of the battle. “For protecting him where I couldn’t. Now, keep watch. If they poof all of us, promise me you’ll evacuate the beach.”

“I-I… of course,” Connie says, her gaze still wet with terror and barely contained grief. “But y-you… you don’t really think you’ll—?”

Lose, is the word she can’t bring herself to say. Surely you don’t think you’ll lose?

#ft. Connie carrying Steven outright in her ARMS in CYM being her personal redemption moment from This ‘failure’ #or what she Sees as a failure… a failure of her own strength :( #she felt horrible for having to drag him by his arms #jen rambles #wips

[boogiewrites]

Seeing Stars Part 7

Characters: Eddie Munson x OFC Star

Summary: Star tries to heal old wounds by nurturing the friendships she's unexpectedly found in Hawkins. She surprises the band with a crowd that what it lacks in numbers makes up for in enthusiasm. After the sexual tension between her and Eddie is openly discussed (and not only by them) she decides to ask him for what's been on her mind.

Comment & Reblog to let me know you like it and want more Eddie content!

Part 1 if you missed it!

Warnings/Triggers: NSFW. Sex. Rough Sex. Spanking. Light choking. Dirty Talk. Good boy/Bad Girl. The word whore is used. Mentions of a cream pie. Also cuddling and fluff.

Star made her way into Family Video with an excited pep in her step.

“Hey!” Robin waved from Behind the counter.

“Hello, my favorite Family Video employee.” She smiled and leaned on the counter.

“I heard that.” Steve said, coming from the new releases section.

“Hello to my second favorite.” Star added with a kinder tone.

She’d made frequent visits to the store a common occurrence. It was on her way out of town from work and since leaving the city she’d found new ways to occupy her time. Movies happened to be a great way to kill a chunk of time. It didn’t hurt that she liked both of the people who worked there. Steve and she were on good terms, choosing to ignore the drunken mess of a night they spent feeling each other up while she downed swigs of tequila. Robin happened to be in the same music class as Star. She’d befriended her with her off-beat muttered jokes and with the common knowledge of movies made conversations easy. So a trip twice a week to chat wasn’t out of the normal.

“Does that mean I’m third?” A floppy-haired Dustin comes from seemingly nowhere as he pops himself up on the countertop.

“Do you work here now?” Star asked.

“No.”

“Then you aren’t my favorite employee sorry.” She shook her head and he put his hand to his chest as if he were hurt.

“Ouch.”

“How old are you again?” She asked.

“Almost 15?”

“You’re my favorite almost 15-year-old.”

“Nice.” He bobbed his head, happily accepting the consolation prize.

“I’m glad you’re all here actually. I need to ask a favor.” She gave a forced smile and leaned her weight onto the counter.

“Yes, I can waive your late fees again, Jesus.” Steve rolled his eyes.

“Not what it’s about.” She dismisses with a weave of her hand. “I wanted to do something nice.”

They all stare at her like she grew another head.

“Oh come on I’m not that mean.” She says in defense of herself.

“No, but a spoonful of sugar does make you easier to get down.” Robin says supportively.

“Look. Any chance Tuesday night you’re free?”

“We can if we change the schedule?” Steve looks at Robin.

“I'm free!” Dustin smiles.

“I wanted to get some people together at The Hideout Tuesday night. I’m trying to do something nice for the guys.”

“You mean Eddie?“ Steve smirks.

“I may have been a dick to him specifically but this would benefit all the members of Corroded Coffin.”

“I am not going to go watch them.” Steve said moving his hands back and forth.

“They aren’t bad! They’re surprisingly good!” She insisted.

“Have you seen Eddie play? He’s a damn savant on the guitar.” Dustin backs her up.

“A what?” Steve scrunches his face at Dustin.

“A savant. It’s the opposite of you.” He teased.

“We aren’t really into that heavy stuff.” Robin got the conversation back on track.

“I know but it’s so depressing to go and be the only one there and when I work and I can’t go I feel so bad. They work really hard. I know if some people would show up it’d mean a lot.”

“She’s got a point,” Dustin adds supportively. “Only thing Eddie cares more about than D and D is his band.”

“So we’re just all doing nice things for Munson now?” Steve said a bit bitter.

“Don’t be a sore loser.” Robin muttered and elbowed him.

“You don’t have to stay the whole time and they don’t play long, just a few songs.”

“Yeah, their songs are like 20 minutes long each.” Steve added.

“Not the covers.” Star offered with a shrug. “You don’t have to. But I’m trying. He’s been a really great friend ever since I showed up here and I feel like I’m just a giant pain in the ass to him all the time. I’d like to do something for him to show I’m not a shitty friend.”

“You’re not a shitty friend!” Dustin quickly added.

“You made me that scarf that was school colors so I wouldn’t freeze in the bandstand,” Robin added. “And you brought us that pizza that one night. Remember?” She swung her head to Steve. He sighed.

“That pizza was damn good.” He said quietly, wistfully thinking about the deep dish she’d made when they’d mentioned not having it before.

“Pizza?” Dustin’s curiosity was piqued.

“She makes this deep dish pizza thing it’s like lasagna but it’s pizza and it’s all cheesy and meaty and you have to eat it with utensils it’s so thick.”

“I want a deep dish.” Dustin pouted.

“I’ll make you boys food for Hellfire one night. How about that?”

“You’re a regular mother hen.” Robin chuckled.

“I know I’m not the easiest nut to crack. I came with zero expectations of finding friends but you’re all great and I want to return the favor.”

“Steve’s like a dog if you feed him you’ll never get rid of him.” Robin tried to add sweetly.

“Rude.” Steve murmured.

“We’ll try to be there.” Robin steps on Steve’s foot.

“Could you bring Mike too?” Star asked Dustin. “I don’t think his sister would be too into it.”

“Yeah, Nance wouldn’t.” Steve chuckled.

“I can get Mike.”

“What about Lucas? I’ve not had the chance to get to know him since he’s been taken in by the basketball team. Would he come?”

“If he doesn’t have practice. I’ll ask.”

“And that cute little redhead?” Star inquired.

“Max. I don’t know. Probably not. She’s been distant. She turned us down for Hellfire too.”

“Shame. I always liked redheads. They’re good in a fight.” Star smiled.

“She would agree with that.” Dustin had a sad smile for a moment.

“Thanks. I appreciate it. But I need one more thing. And only you can help me, Steve.”

“I’ve heard that one before.” He quirked a brow up.

“It’s almost Halloween. I need recs for something to scare me.”

“You looked in a mirror?” Everyone including Star gave varying degrees of groans and Robin threw a pen at him. “I’m kidding! Geez, you all know I’m kidding. C’mon, I’ll show you all the gross stuff you weirdos are into.”

-

The walls shook with the high number the volume knob was turned to in Eddie’s trailer. Star was waiting for him to get out of the shower so she could get him ready for his show tonight. She was feeling a bit antsy, unsure of how it would go while simultaneously being excited if things went right. She didn’t do her makeup very often, usually on a special occasion or when she was feeling particularly feminine. She had more experience with doing her hair, and tonight she had her scrunched up in waves and feathered, a ’70s throwback with a modern twist. She was giving herself some nice dark smokey eyeliner and shadow, something she was hoping to get the hang of before trying it on Eddie. She’d said she wanted to dress him up tonight and gave no reason. He was into it, and luckily she didn’t have to explain further. Eddie was a sucker for dramatics so he was happy to experiment with her.

Star was focused, lighter held in one hand on the desktop as she leaned over the edge and tried to perfect her eyeliner with the other.

Eddie came into the room, towel around his waist and hair wet. He stumbled as he walked in, toe hitting the floor to stop himself as he walked head first into the sight of Star bent over his desk. It’d been a sight he’d imagined very vividly before when he was alone. Since she didn’t immediately notice him he let himself enjoy the view. She was wearing a different shirt than he’d seen her in last, this one much smaller and tighter than what he was used to seeing her in. She loved her layers, and seeing the shape of her body wasn’t something, especially now in the winter, he got to see very often. She usually wore baggier pants, not jeans, or her long skirts with the occasional dress thrown in. She had a trunk full of sweaters and cardigans she’d made for herself and she usually wore them at the same time, clashing colors and all. She had the old men’s t-shirts, most stolen from her brother she wore but they too hid her figure. But she was in a tight black women's fit tee and skin-tight high-rise jeans tonight. She kept her signature lace-up boots that reminded him of something out of Victorian times. They went above her ankles and had little flowers embroidered on them. He figures she’d probably found them in a second-hand store like she had the majority of her clothes. He let out a sigh at the sight of her wide-set hips and self-titled fat ass snug in light wash denim. He wondered if she was wearing any panties under them. He had to stop himself before it became too obvious what he was imagining while only wearing a towel.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in jeans like that.” Is how he chose to announce his entrance into the room to her.

“Because I’ve not worn them around you before.” She licks her finger and smooths off the edge of her eyes. With her focus now ended she fluttered her eyes to reset her mind and look at the intrusion. She met his eyes in the mirror without turning. “Oh.” She said aloud and didn't mean to. He watched her reaction and he couldn’t have been more pleased about it. Her jaw clenched, fingers fumbling with her lighter as she opened and closed her mouth with a flush of pink to her cheeks. He sees her chest expand in a deep inhale that exits through her slightly opened mouth. “Is that what you’re going to wear?” She finally cracked a smile.

“I considered it.” He begins with a smile that pulls one corner of his mouth more than the other. “But I don’t think you’d be able to get anything done if I did.” He’d moved to his bed, the pile of clothes he’d had laid out to put on. She sees him smirking through the damp curtain of hair.

“Whenever I walk into your room naked and wet with only a towel around my waist and we see how you respond. THEN you can give me shit for it.” She poked her fingers holding the eyeliner his way.

“Please do.” He shook his head and the smile on his face showed how pleased with himself he was.

“Walking in here like that is BAIT Munson.”

“Bait, huh? For what?” He holds his boxers in his hand and faces her, shaking out his hair.

“Why was I ever nice to you?” She teases, turning her upper half toward him. “Now you’re entirely too cocky and I don’t appreciate it.”

“You appreciate my c-“

“DON'T!” She pointed again and raises her brows. “I regretted my choice of words as soon as it came out of my mouth.”

“Oh I’ve came in your-“

“Put your clothes on you whore!” She shouts and kicks an empty can his way.

“I’m shy.” He covered his crotch and shied away and she let out a shoulder-shaking laugh.

“I’ll finish my makeup, I won’t look, go ahead.” She waves her arm at him and turns back, lighter on the pencil for a moment before pretending to do what she just said.

He either didn’t care or he believed her and either she was fine with. She got to see him stark naked. She felt her chest tighten and stopped pretending to do her makeup, she held her hand by her face and watched his reflection in the mirror. He was broad-shouldered and lean, looking like the picture of some Grecian statue makers muse. He was skinny but there was a certain scrappiness to his build she appreciated. He looked masculine without looking macho, a touch of softness thrown into a pale svelte form. She swallowed at the sight of him soft, nestled in a thatch of dark hair that trailed up his stomach. A light smattering in the center of his chest near the tattoos stacked on the side. As he pulled on his clothes she snapped her eyes away and touched up her hair needlessly. A controlled chaos of fluffy edges and waves was what she was going for anyway.

“Alright I’m decent.” he announced, sitting on the edge of his bed and putting on his sneakers. His usual denim with holes ripped from wear and not bought that way fit him snug. He wore a tank top, arms on show.

“You? Never?” she smiled and finally turned, her back to the mirror, her backside resting against the edge of the desk. “I did have a little surprise.” she tried to not look like she was purposely posing herself in a flattering way to show off her shirt.

“Yeah?” his head pops up after he’s done tugging on his shoes. “Aw, shit.” his face lit up and she perked up, standing straight and pulling down the hem of her shirt so her chest wasn’t distorting her work.

“I know you guys have some but I wanted to make my own. I’ve not done any DIY stuff like this in a while. Good to knock the dust off.”

“It’s sick, dude.” he raises and moves to genuinely examine her shirt and not her braless chest. He could behave given the right circumstances, and a Corroded Coffin shirt was certainly that. “How’d you do that?”

“Bleach and a q-tip,” she explained. “Also this on the back.” she swished her hair away and showed the outline of a coffin she’d drawn on the back. Little drips of bleach made it loo particularly gnarly. She turned back around. “The little drips looked cool.” she touched them as she chattered about the shirt.

“You’ve even got a coffin around it.” his face was adoring, a warm smile as he took in what felt like a present for him even if it wasn’t.

“I was tired of not having something. You guys work so hard, I thought it was time to make something new I could wear out. Rep the merch.” she chuckled.

“It’s cool as hell.” he nodded. “Can you make me one?”

“Same kind of shirt too?” she smirked.

“If it’s that cool I don’t give a shit, I’ll wear it.”

“I might make it. I’d like to see you in a tiny little cropped shirt like some ’70s stud.” she laughed.

“I mean you could take this one off and I’ll-” she smacked his cheek lightly.

“Shut it.” she snorted out. “Sit down, loverboy, I need to start working my magic.”

-

She’d moussed up his hair, giving it some definition and perpetual wet look like the guys she knew he idolized. She spent her time fluffing both him and his hair up while he got doted on. She figured hyping him up before a show was a good call.

“We’re making good time,” she said, grabbing his wrist to look at his watch. “Now for the final touches.” she spun around his desk chair and straddled his lap. His eyes went wide for a second. “I’ve gotta get close for the eyeliner,” she explained. “Don't get too excited.” she giggled while lighting the end of the pencil with a lighter.

“You’re gonna blind me.” he complained.

“This is how you do it!” she insisted. “You heat it and you can smoke it out. It’s how I did mine. Don’t be such a baby. You’re a big mean metal head remember?”

“I prefer arson.” he gave her a defensive look she knew was playful. She took his hand and held the kohl pencil tip the back of it.

“Not hot. See?” He grunted in response and she resituated herself and loomed over him. She grabbed him by the chin. “Now close your eyes and hold still.” She began dragging the eyeliner across his lash line.

“Under different circumstances that would be a lot more exciting to hear.” she stopped and laughed.

“Don’t make me laugh, I’ll mess up.”

“Can’t help it. I’m hilarious.” his dead plan delivery of the statement made her shake again.

“Stop talking.” He grunted in response.

“It kinda hurts.” he mumbled.

“It’s the wood on the pencil. I’ll sharpen it.”

“I don’t want it sharper!” he whined.

“It sharpens the black part, calm down.” she shook her head at him. Quickly she had his jaw tight in her hand and was back to concentrating.

“Uh… are we interrupting something?” a familiar voice from behind asks.

“Yeah, she’s trying to blind me.” Eddie complains.

“He’s being a fuckin baby about the eyeliner!” Star raised her voice, knowing it was the other band members making their way over to help load equipment.

“Oh good.” she jears Jeff sigh.

“I thought we’d walked in on you guys screwin' around.”

“Huh?” Star’s nose scrunched up and she turned to meet Gareth’s face.

“You're uh…” motions his finger up and down at her straddling Eddie in his chair.

“Oh.” she looked down and started to laugh. “Right.” she shrugged and turned back to Eddie. “I had to get close to put this on him and he won’t sit still.”

“So she sat on me like some damn Amazonian!” Eddie protested loudly.

“You’d be lucky for me to crush your pelvis.” she laughed.

“Hell, maybe we should’ve taken her up on doing our makeup.” Gareth smirks.

“You want to? I can.” she offers while licking her thumb and evening out Eddie’s now shadowy-lined eyes.

“Gross.” he mumbled.

“You’d pay for me to spit on you, hush.” she shoved his shoulder and stood. It got a chuckle out of the boys and a grin from Eddie. She wasn’t entirely wrong.

“I don’t think we’ve got the time to do everyone.” Eddie added, standing and moving to the mirror to see Star’s handiwork.

“Woah! Is that a Corroded Coffin shirt?” Jeff exclaimed.

“Oh shit, yeah! check it out!” Star turned quickly and chimed in. Soon the subject had passed and Eddie got to let out a tiny mental exhale. He hadn’t liked the idea of Star straddling the other guys, even if it was to do makeup. He’d unpack that later.

-

Star was smoking outside the front of The Hideout, the boys were in the back and all setup. She’d rode with Eddie and held his guitar for him so it didn’t have to go in the back of the van.

She saw a car full of people pull up and she tried not to show her excitement even if she wanted to bounce on her heels a bit.

“C’mon ya heathens.” Steve groaned, Robin, Dustin, Lucas, and Mike in tow.”

“You brought the whole family.” Star beamed.

“Being the only one who can drive kinda blows sometimes.” Steve sighed.

“Thanks,” she says sincerely, reaching out and putting her hand on his arm. “They’ll love this. And I really appreciate it too.”

“Don’t go getting all sappy on me.” he subtly smiles.

“I’m trying to not be such a stone-cold bitch.” she grins and takes a final drag.

“Oh, I know you aren’t. I’ve babysat tequila Star.” he teases.

“And again I’ll apologize for that.” she frowned.

“Nah, I’m just giving you shit about it. You’re cool.” he shook his head. “It was uh, pretty fun up until the whole almost throwing up on me part.” She rubbed her face and groaned.

“Yeah it was.” she scrunched her nose up in embarrassment but gave him a rather cute smile to accompany it.

“Let’s not leave the underage kids unaccompanied in the bar please?” Robin called out from the doorway.

“Our voice of reason.” Star holds her hand out for Steve to go ahead.

“If she’s our voice of reason we’re screwed.”

-

The splay of emotions on the guys’ faces as they took the stage was something Star wished she could’ve captured. Six people, by any usual standard, not much, clapped and cheered as they walked out and that was a first. Star and the 3 younger boys all screamed and clapped and wooed aggressively. Robin and Steve stood propped against the edge of a booth and clapped like two parents watching their rowdy children out of the floor. Eddie’s cheeks flushed and he looked down bashfully as Dustin screeched his name. The other handful of people in the bar were very confused by the attention but the bartender was laughing to herself.

“Uh.” Eddie cleared his throat speaking into the mic. “Wasn’t expecting this.” he grinned and looked down to fidget his fingers on the amp cord. “We’re Corroded Coffin.”

“Hell yeah!” Dustin screamed through cupped hands despite being less than 15 feet from the stage. Star snorted laughing as she bumped him with her hip.

“Gettem Eddieee!” Lucas chimed in, a shy but cheerful face while he joined in. The enthusiasm was contagious among the group.

Star danced to everything, Dustin joining her for most of it. Mike and Lucas took the cool route and head banged. Star and Dustin knocked heads while bent over and trying to swing their hair while catching each other when they started to sway and fall.

“We’ve been practicing this one.” Eddie panted into the mic, the sound reminding Star of the times they’d been together alone. “This one is for Star. That idiot in the black shirt who’s going to give herself a concussion.” he grinned.

“THAT’S ME!” she shouted and laughed with her whole body.

“She makes me listen to this song every time she’s in my van even though it’s my van and I should be in charge of the music. But at least her music taste isn’t shit.” he gives a nod and her favorite Dio song starts and she turns to Dustin, slapping hands together because she knows he likes it too. She got lost in it, remembering the time in her trailer teaching Eddie to dance. She mouthed or sang every word. Dustin mimicked the guitar as Eddie shredded the solo. The stolen glances between Eddie and Star weren’t exactly obvious but while he sang and she recited every word back to him there was a certain pull they could feel toward each other. It was full of gratitude and affection and it amped up his performance and her heartbeat.

“You gotta admit. They’re pretty cute.” Robin smirked. She and Steve watched the others act like adolescent monkeys and fall all over each other on the dance floor.

“Yeah, the buttheads are having a good time.”

“Not what I meant.” Steve turned his face to Robin who was still wearing her smirk. “Star?” she spoke quietly, knowing they couldn’t be heard by the shouting group over the music. “I know it makes you the loser in this situation but I think she and Eddie are pretty cute together.”

“Oh, they aren’t together.” he sounded oddly certain.

“You still holding out hope?”

“No.” Steve huffed out a quiet laugh. “She’s cool. She’s ya know… she looks good but she’s not long-term girlfriend material.”

“And that’s what you’re looking for these days?”

“Apparently so.”

“Oh?”

“She and I had a great time, don’t get me wrong. Once you have a set of hips like that on you it changes you.” he chuckled. “But I… I don’t know. There’s not enough in common there. She’s complicated.”

“A children's menu maze is complicated for you Steve, how bad can she be?” Robin laughed.

“When she was drunk she was talking about things.”

“As one does.” Robin shrugged.

“I don’t know if she was talking about Eddie or someone else. She was upset about something. But she wouldn’t answer me when I tried to figure out what.” he subtly frowns. “I don’t think she knows she likes Eddie.”

“Do you think she knows he likes her? Seems pretty obvious.”

“They’re tight as thieves, they’re best friends.”

“Ah.” Robin nodded. “So are we thinking they’re like us?”

“No? I don’t know.”

“Guy’s got some great hair. Wearing makeup…” Robin adds with a shrug. “Or her, I mean, you said it the first time you saw her.”

“Guy does have some major hair. The whole…look suits him.” Steve nodded in agreement. “I mean me and her ya know…”

“Doesn’t mean she’s strictly dickly.” Robin giggled.

“She was kissing on him and saying she missed him when he picked her up from my place, though. But she is a bit of a flirt.”

“She’s so reserved before you get to know her, makes sense she’d be the opposite when she’s drunk though right?”

“Yeah, that’s why it’s hard to tell. I don’t know him well enough to say it’s more than friends, but he’s protective as hell over her. Dude tried to fight me when he showed up.”

“You know outcasts have to protect one another.”

“True.” he nodded, contemplating. “I guess it’s none of my business really.” he looked down the floor.

“Also true.” Robin nodded in agreement. “But it’s fun to guess.” she grinned.

“This must be how people talk about us.” he broke into a less serious face.

“At least we know our deal.” Robin shrugged.

“Feels like that’s the only thing I know most days.” Steve sighed.

-

Star had to take a break eventually, sitting down and letting the boys take over the floor. She wished this could be every week, having people to dance and be excited with. She settled onto a tabletop with a bounce, sipping from a glass bottle of soda. She was catching her breath as they played an Iron Maiden song she’d heard originally in Eddie’s van. It’d become a favorite and she let the buzz from the amps so close vibrate her insides with a content sigh. She felt a pleasant moment of being alone in the small crowd of people while watching Eddie. She’d seen him swear and stomp, shouting and pulling his hair at attempts to learn riffs he was now executing flawlessly. She had an odd swell of pride for him. Seeing him in his element sparked the fire he’d ignited the first time she’d seen him play on stage. This time felt different as she reflected on the heat inside her watching him play gave her. She knew him now, knew what his body looked like and what it felt like against hers. His face was stern and concentrated, eyes on fingers as he smoked the neck of the guitar. His nose would twitch, his pointed tongue out either to focus or an exclamation of his enthusiasm for what he was playing with a dramatic opening of his mouth and a shout. His leg up on a speaker, he thrust his hips slowly as he eased into every growl of his guitar. The eyeliner and wet hair did suit him. It made him look older, it took the doe out of his big brown eyes. He was less prey and more predator. She liked to think her attention to him helped him hone in on this confident part of himself a bit more. She wondered if he was as happy with himself as she was with him.

For as focused as he was, now having people to watch him, he didn’t want to fuck up in front of them. But he still had the occasional tug at his focus in the back of his mind about Star. He gasps, mouth open after nailing a solo and switching back to rhythm giving him a chance to look at her. She’d been making him smile all night, even if he tried to hide it to keep his hardened exterior in place. He found her sitting and staring at him, immediately locking eyes the moment he took them off his guitar. His smile lines deepened, eyes bright despite the black surrounding them for a moment. He didn’t hold it too long. She thought he held it just long enough before looking back down and his smile slowly faded as he continued to play. He oozed confidence to her in that moment. She wondered if he could feel her watching or could read her mind as he met her gaze. She didn’t mind much either way. Maybe it would make what she had planned later fall into place easier if he could

-

They'd all hung out in the back, sharing cigs and friendly banter before Steve hauled everyone off. On the ride, home Star spilled her plan to get people to show up. Eddie wasn’t happy with the fact that he was driving because he wanted to kiss her for it. He didn’t know if kissing her out a rush of admiration was crossing a line. But what else was he supposed to do when she was beaming at him with a teeth showing smile and bright eyes as the street lamps shone into them as they passed.

“When did you get so sweet, huh?” He asked with a nod of his chin.

“Same time you did.” a more precocious smile comes across her face, and she settles into the seat, leaning toward him.

“Now I have to figure out what to do for you.”

“Do for me?” she turns her face his way, watching his hair slowly waft from the cracked window.

“Yeah, you did something nice. I need to do something nice back.”

“You’re already nice.” she smiled. “This isn’t transactional. We’re friends. Friends do things for each other. I’ll need a favor eventually and you’ll do it and then you’ll need something sometime and I’ll do it. You don’t have to pay me back.” she shook her head.

“What if I need a huge favor?”

“How big we talking?”

“Huge.” he grins.

“As big as your dick?” she asks with raised brows and he lets out a chest-shaking laugh.

“Bigger.”

“As big as my ass?” she joins in on the giggling, leaning over the chair arm with faux shock on her face.

“Bigger!” he smiles.

“Well shit. That’s colossal.” she settles back in and snorts. “Eh, I’d do it.” she shrugged casually.

“What if it was illegal?”

“Psh. Not even a favor for you that’s a treat for me.” she grinned.

“What if I needed you to help me bury a body?”

“I’ve got shovels.” she turned her face back toward him and they shared a sweet smile. “I’ve got your back, Munson, don’t worry.” she shook her head and patted his arm, extending it awkwardly across the space between his bucket seats. He slapped his hand on top of hers before she could recoil it giving it a supportive rub.

“And I’ve got your ass- I mean your back. I’ve got your back, too.” The dumb joke made her burst out in laughter, her hand pulling away from his to cover her face. The only other person to make her laugh like that was Dustin and it’s because they all shared the same punny, immature sense of humor. He had to remind himself to keep his eyes on the road. He would’ve rather watched her laugh.

-

“That’s got it.” She dusted her hands off, standing in his doorway as she declares the unloading of his equipment was finished. They’d barely turned on the lights before rushing to haul everything inside. A lamp in the living room and one in his bedroom were the only sources of light in the trailer.

“All the babies are put to bed.” He says hanging up his prized Warlock onto the guitar holder on his mirror. He caressed it like he might a woman, following its curves before letting go.

“You want a beer?” She asked half bent in the doorway unzipping her boots and taking them off.

“Are you staying?” He turned quickly, seeing her shoes already being tossed by his nightstand.

“I had planned to. Is that okay?”

“Yeah!” He answered quickly with a low brow that seemed to take offense to the idea he might not want her to. “You don’t stay here that often, we're always at your place.” He tries to explain with a motioning hand. “S’ nice to have you here instead.”

“I like your place. Bigger bed.” She smiled and turned. “You want me to bring a can or the whole thing?” She asked, making her way in bare feet into his linoleum kitchen.

“Ones good.” He called out as she heard rustling from his room. “Shit.” He whispered to himself.

Eddie moved around his room frowning, he grabbed his sheets and shook them, giving his pillows a sniff before trying to make it look decent. He grabbed the cheap cologne on his dresser and sprayed the bed, rubbing the sheets and pillows. He hadn’t expected her to stay after the show. He was wondering if he should try to better conceal the magazines on the floor that were covered with tits and ass. He didn’t have time to decide before she reappeared.

She sways back in, her hips bumping lightly into the doorframe as she makes a quick turn to his bed, and tossed him a can, cracking one for herself.

“The only thing that could’ve improved the show tonight would’ve been if we could’ve gotten beers at the bar.”

“At least we got 'em now.” He chugged some back and burped. He pats his stomach afterward, a laugh coming from Star at his childishness. “I’d say sorry but you know I’m not.” He gave a dopey closed mouth grin.

“Goober.” She snorted into her can.

“Did you catch the new Iron Maiden song we played?” he asked remembering excitedly and moving to his record player.

“I did!” She nods supportively. “I’d been listening to Piece of Mind a good deal lately. Good choice. Flight of Icarus has been stuck in my head. I like that solo. It’s got that repeating bit then it builds. Very sexy of them.” She chuckled.

“You probably still have the tape don’t you?”

“I think so.”

“Shit.” He finished his beer and sits it on his dresser immediately forgetting about it. “I wanted to put it on.”

“Play any one of your 100 other cassettes.” She takes another drink and sits the beer on his nightstand. “Put on Dio.”

“You heard what I said tonight. You’ve almost played that one out.”

“For good reason. It’s sexy.” She grinned and walked over to look at his collection with him.

“Sexy?”

“Do you not think metal is sexy?” He turned to look at her to find her serious. He blinked and quirked up a brow in thought. “You mean it doesn’t make you wanna fuck? You put on Little Lover and you don’t wanna get nasty?” She chuckled.

“Little Lover is barely metal.” He purses his lips and shakes his head.

“I love my dirty rock and roll what can I say? Okay, you elitist, What about… Fever? Judas Priest?”

“You’re forgetting Fuck Like a Beast.”

“Fuck you’re right.” Her shoulders lowered and she started looking for the WASP cassette. “That album Fucks, man. It’s got L.O.V.E. machine too. Any song talking about astrology will get me going.” She grins and plucks it out. “I mean they’re no Coven but” she shrugs.

“Coven gets a pass.” He points out taking the cassette and putting it in.

“That’s the correct answer.” She smirked and tapped his nose.

“Without Coven, we wouldn’t have Dio.”

“You’re sexy when you know what you’re talking about.” She tilted her head and propped her hip on his stereo stand. He glanced at her and a boyish smile came across his face as he messed with the cassette player.

“Want to hear me talk about D and D?” He grinned.

“I’m more interested in why you looked at me like I had two heads when I said metal was sexy.”

“I guess I never thought about it that way?”

“Does music not mess with your body and make you feel things?”

“Sure but if I was listening to something while fucking it was because that’s what happened to be on, I didn’t fuck because of the music.”

“So you’ve never been alone, had some drinks or smoked, and had a song hit you just right and you get horny?” He thinks for a moment with his eyes darting around the room.

“Like what?”

“Led Zeppelin gets me horny as hell.” She states blatantly.

“Okay yeah, I get that.” He laughed. “Which album? And don’t answer all of them.” He then took his turn to tap her on the nose.

“That’s like asking someone to pick their favorite child.” She exhaled and thought about it. “Depends on the mood you’re going for. Maybe Two? It’s a bit slower though as it goes. But then there’s Physical Graffiti. That one is some primo riding music .” She emphasizes with pinched fingertips. “It’s a little grittier, bluesy, and romantic. Yeah, I’ll say Physical Graffiti.”

“Physical Graffiti it is.” He puts up his hands and pulls it from the collection, having not started the prior choice of WASP.

“I know you like WASP better you don’t have to change it.”

“I’ve not listened to this through in a long time.” The opening track of Custard Pie starts and Star narrows her eyes at him.

“Is it presumptuous of me to assume you’re trying to make me horny by playing this?”

“No.” he kept his facial expression subtle, like holding his cards close to his chest.

“Is correct a better choice?” She leaned towards him and grinned. “If it were… I’d find it rather ironic.” She moves away from the stereo and walks away a few feet closer to the end of his bed. “Because if you think that after watching you on that stage tonight I wouldn’t already be turned on you’d be wrong.” Now that got his attention. He turned around after messing with the dials and waited her out with an expression that was up to no good. “You keep getting better every time I watch you up there, Munson. And I don’t mean just your guitar skills. Let me be perfectly clear, you’re getting closer to frontman guitarist hot and it’s concerning.”

She watched the confidence grow in his body language as she spilled out her honest reaction. “So you had ulterior motives for deciding to stay?” He shoved his hands in his pockets as he approached her. He’d gotten comfortable down to his black tank top and jeans without the usual hardware attached.

“Maybe.” She lilted. “What if I did?”

“I’d say I felt the same watching you in the crowd tonight. The way you move makes it hard to concentrate. Especially when it’s something I wrote.” He has a subtle smile that shows more in his eyes than on his lips. “Felt that way before the show too. And after. I mean look at you.” He brought a hand out to put on her waist. “I like how you dress, don’t get me wrong, but getting to see your body like this is distracting.” He admits, looking her over.

“You like my body, Eddie?”

“Do I like it?” He huffed out a laugh “Yes! You fuckin’ serious?” He squeezed the smallest part of her waist ever so slightly and let his hands run down to the swell of her hips.

“I like yours too you know.” She let out a small sigh and let her hands move to his bare upper arms. “I’d like to see more of it. And not just in the reflection in the mirror.”

“Can I see more of you?” He asks quietly, almost politely.

“You want to?” She looked up at him since he towered over her so close.

“How’s is that even a question?”

“I’m feeling needy tonight.” She shifted her hips. “It’s been so long for me. Even longer than I’ve wanted it so bad. Is it alright if I want to fuck you tonight?” The way she asked sounded almost sweet but her eyes were anything but.

“You sure?” His face softens, eyes half-lidded and looking at her chest. “It’s a little… unceremonious don’t ya think?” She hummed with a closed-lip smile.

“Eddie honey this isn’t my first time.” She shook her head and ran her hands up his chest. “I don't want roses, I want you.” she grabbed a fist full of the neck of his shirt and pulled him to her. It wasn’t hard for her to feel the rush with Track 2 playing in the background.

She kept one hand ahold of his shirt and the other moving from his collarbone to his nape to feel his hair. He groaned and hunched over into the kiss on impact and didn’t hesitate to slide both hands down and get a firm grab of her ass. The pull of his hands lifts her to her tiptoes, leading her to wrap her arms around his neck. A greedy hand gives a little smack to one cheek as his other hand slips his fingers under the hem of her shirt to feel the bare skin waiting for him under it. The feel of his blood-hot palms on her skin causes a small moan to escape into the still indulgent and slow kiss they share. Star’s hand travels back down after toying in his curls. She grabs his chest with two hands and proceeds to feel him up. A harsh brush of her thumbs over his nipples causes a hesitant gasp in him. She hastily moves to shove her hands under his shirt, hands kneading his waist, chest, and back like a cat with her long nails. Following her lead, he boldly surges both hands upward to her ribs to pause and squeeze, cupping her body under the curve of her breasts. Once his hands clutch the hanging weight of her chest they both exhale, breaking the kiss for a brief moment.

“Off.” she simply states, starting the skinning of his shirt off him and his strong arms pull the rest of his head. “You want the honors?” she smirks and tugs at the hem of her shirt. He wastes no time with the thin fabric, pulling it off her and letting it join the rest of his clothes on his bedroom floor. She was desperately craving the feeling of skin to skin, but unlike in the way she wanted it, he gave it to her by bending down and immediately taking her nipple into his mouth, one warm bare arm wrapped around her and a large ringed hand grasping her other breast. He made more noise latched onto her than he had when they kissed, feeling the grip of his fingers hard to her skin as he sucked away. He was just as desperate as she was for an intimate connection. He was less confident than she was and too shy to ask for it outright. He started to get his fill of his severely depleted touch compulsion by shoving his face into her chest and pressing her against him. She coddled him for a bit, breathing slow and relaxed as he sucked, and with each jolt of pleasure, she let herself moan and melt. She cradled his head and pushed his mop of hair back from his face where it’d stuck from the previously earned sweat from the show.

“C’mon Eddie.” She purrs, his eyes looking into hers while he keeps his tongue vehemently on her nipple with an open heavy breathing mouth. “I’ve got a better idea for you to suck on my tits.” She pulls his hair gently to move his face away and a small helpless sound escapes him. “You like that?” A wicked bright smile appears on her face.

“Uh-huh.” He exhaled from his still open mouth. She maneuvered his head up to kiss him then stood him up before letting go.

“Good to know.” She took him by his shoulders and turned him, his back to the bed. “You like it a little rough too?” She sounded patronizing but he liked that even more.

“Yeah.” He gave a lop-sided grin.

“You like being a baby boy? Getting pushed around?” Her lips pout at him while she undoes his jeans.

“Wuh-uh-juh-“ he stuttered and she couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“I’m trying to see what you’re into Eddie.” She less directly explained. She pats his cheek. “You have a safe word?”

“Are we gonna be doing stuff that requires a safe word?” His eyes went a bit wide then she pulled down his jeans and he took the cue to strip off.

“Safe words are good for anything. But I will warn you, if I’m in the right headspace I might slap you or something and I don’t want to hurt you.” He blinked blankly for a moment.

“How hard?” His chin pushed into his neck in question.

“Turn around and get on the bed.” She grinned. He side-eyed her playfully cautiously and she motioned for him to turn. He obeys and she smacks his cute little ass as she crawled up the bed. He did it quickly, flopping onto his side and watching her. “About that hard.” She shrugged.

“Barely felt it.” he shook his head and smiled, hair moving behind his shoulders.

“What kind of dirty talk do you like?”

“You could say fuckin anything to me when you’re naked and I’m gonna agree.” He made her laugh but she kept slow movements with her hands to take her jeans off as he followed them intently.

“You like being the bottom then? One who gets all loved up, fucked, and roughed up.” She spoke with an anticipatory cadence, hands sliding under the waist of her jeans and slowly sliding them down her hips.

“I’m a big fan of all those things.” he grins and watches the swell of her hips slowly become visible to him. His cock jumped at the anticipation of finally seeing her naked. “Holy shit.” his voice inflected upward, not exactly the praise she’d expected. “You’ve got a tattoo.” he sat up to lean forward and look closer. He put a hand to her hip, thumb rubbing over the small star on her butt cheek.

“Oh, right.” she chuckled. “Yeah, I do.”

“Star’s got a star.” he leaned forward to take the edge of her jeans and pull them down over her ass to kiss the small outlined tattoo. He made a small hungry sound and held both her hips and another more lingering kiss was planted.

“You do love your tattoos.” she hummed at the attention he gave her.

“I do.” he softly exhaled. “Mmph. It suits you.” he backed away and gave her a good wobble with his hand before leaning back onto the bed. “Makes all that look even better somehow.” he motioned his hand to her backside while she looked back and smirked, pulling her jeans the rest of the way down.

“You into pain since you’re so into tattoos?”

“I’m not… not.” he smirked.

“What if I wanted to give that pretty fucked out face a slap? Or pull your hair? Do you like being bitten? Some love bites?” she watched him mesmerized and getting hard before she laced her legs out of the jeans and turned back to face him.

“All of the above.” His lip curls slightly, genuine enthusiasm for the topic at hand. “I do like the hair pulling. This..” he swallows as if his mouth is going dry as she crawls up the bed toward him. “ …dirty talk you’re doing.”

“Calling you pretty boy?” He nodded almost bashfully, eyes now on her tits knocking together as she straddled his hips, his cock growing snugly between her cheeks. “Soft pet names for the pretty princess then.” She pouted hers and leaned forward, her thumb to his lips. “I bet a nice boy like you likes being told he’s good too, huh? You a good boy Eddie?” She asks her thumb now tracing his lips.

“Shit.” He muttered. “Yeah, I like that.” He almost chuckled as he said it, his words being forced out with a tightening of his stomach.

“I knew you’d be a sub.” She grinned.

“I wouldn’t say that.” He adds with darting eyes and hovering hands as he tries to figure out where to look and touch. “Sometimes I’m in the mood to be more dominant, ya know? I could do to you what you’re talking about doing to me. And I am having a very hard time remembering how English works right now with you like this.” He purses his lips and rubbed her hips in his hands. She chuckled and leaned forward to kiss him, a finger under his chin to lift it to her.

“You just keep making those noises I like so much. Pretty boys don’t have to talk.” She shook her head and nuzzled her nose against his before kissing his neck. “You can get rough with me later, I don’t mind.” She hummed and sighed between kisses.

He felt a shudder travel down his body. He let himself melt into the feeling of her lips working against his throat, from his ears to his Adam’s Apple she licked and sucked and he soaked up every bit of it. He was now hard, assuming leaking with how he’s feel the twinge in his muscles making his cock jump against her ass every time he heard her murmur against his skin.

The kisses began migrating down to spread across his collar bones, the round of his shoulders while she felt him up like a teenager in the backseat at a drive-in. He’s enjoying the feeling of her hands soft and grasping against every part of him they could reach. She slowly scoot backward, giggling when he groaned at the contact of his needy cock against her warm center as she kissed her way down his torso. She stopped for a quick suck of his nipple which made him jump. She raised her head.

“Bad?” She asked, her hand rubbing his nipple as of trying to soothe it.

“Noone's ever done that before.” His brow was a little low, showing his confusion. She lowered her head again and lapped over him with a smile before sucking his nipple into her mouth again.

“Good?” She asked, her tongue flicking it now hard under her tongue.

“Good.” He nodded the tiniest bit breathless. She plays with him for a bit, a back and forth of sucking one nipple while lightly twisting the other just like he did her. The way his toes curled and his legs became restless let her know he was enjoying it. She didn’t spend too long in one spot though. She dragged her chest over his wanting cock. A single muttered swear escaped him as she let her nipple graze against his head. She assumed her position, ass in the air and her mouth kissing his hip bones.

“What about you?” He asks, surprising her, her focus snapped.

“Me?”

“You can't suck me then fuck me, Star.” He stated definitively as he moves lithely on the bed, kneeling to switch their places. “What kind of a man do take me for?” He said with faux offense. He moves her with gentle suggesting hands to lay back. “You’re not taking my cock until I’ve gotten you good and ready.” A smile grew slowly across her pinked lips but her eyes grew darker.

“Okay, not a total sub.” He could hear the effect on her in her voice. “I like it when you talk like that.” She tugged down a pillow behind her and spread her legs wide for him.

“When I talk about my cock?” She bit her lip and nodded.

“And a little bossy, yeah.” Her tits pressed together by her arm as she raised up to watch him. Her hand ran down her middle as he laid belly down on the bed, one leg hitched up to make room for his cock.

“So you like hearing what I’m going to do to you?”

“Very much.” She nodded and gave her clit a few circles with her fingers. “I also love watching you go down on me.”

“You like it when I eat you out?”

“Is that even a question?” She grinned and gave him the same response he had her. She saw the confident smile as he kissed her inner thigh and ran his fingers across her impossibly soft hair.

“You talk about me being pretty.” He says with his lips to her inner thighs, kissing their way inward. “What about you? Can I talk about how fuckin hot you are?” His arm reaches up and caresses her stomach. With teasing tickling kisses he pecks his way to her clit, causing a tiny gasp to escape her. “This flower of a pussy is gorgeous.” He let his tongue lap up the slender column of her clit and its hood. He stayed paced and building and waited until her eyes rolled back. “Look at me, Star.” he pulled his hands away from teasing her nipples to spread her lips apart and get a better connection to her clit. She moaned. As she exhaled, looking at his warm brown eyes. There’s a light and mischief to them that made her want to be bad with him too. “You like watching me? I like it too.” He spoke against her thighs, his face rubbing into their softness as he slicked his fingers with the wetness between her lips before pushing them in. The first unfiltered loud moan of the night erupted from her. Her eyes struggled to focus and not roll back as he spoke softly into her sensitive inner thighs between rounds of sucking her clit. All the while a slow pump of his fingers made her hold her legs back to give her better access. As soon as she pulled her knees back he moaned against her clit and put one large hand on her ass, kneading it as he groaned into her softness.

“Fuck I can really feel it this time.” she starts her tiny tremors from waves of pleasure beginning to lap away at her.

“Couldn’t get in there as deep the first time.” He talks, almost slurs against her as he feels his desire growing. “Having to eat your pussy in the middle of a session.” He tsks her and she whimpers. “Should’ve waited and I could’ve fucked you.” Her toes wiggle and she mewls happily. “Fuck I can’t wait for you to cum around my cock instead of my fingers.” He moans, losing himself in feeling her take him in so eagerly with her body.

“You better stop if you don’t want me to cum on your fingers too.”

“Does it feel good sweetheart? Tell me how good it feels.” She felt her hips buck at his pleading tone.

“So good.” She moans. “Those strong fingers are too good, Eddie. You’re so good with your hands.” she laments to the open air of the room.

He grins and growls playfully, a smile on his face when she meets his gaze again.

“Am I playing this pussy like a guitar?” he grins and she responds with the same smile and lets her head fall back a second. There was something so contagious about his boyish charm when he put it on show.

“I’d say better but ugh- fuck I don’t think you could. So fucking good Eddie, shit.” She whined. “I’m gonna cum already you asshole.” She laughed and pushed her hair out of her flushed face. A masculine laugh left his chest and made her shake.

“You wanna cum on my fingers?” He pounds into her a little harder and she reaches to grab the sheets with white knuckles.

“No, I wanna cum on your cock.” It comes out as slutty as she felt it. “I want to ride you so bad Eddie. I wanna feel you so deep. I wanna cum on your cock over and over.” Her hips began to roll. She moaned, feeling the pulsing inside her he knew she was close and talking herself over the edge whether she meant to or not. He slid out his fingers and put the wetness onto his cock as he pumped it into his fist.

“C’mon baby,” he says without thinking and slaps her hip. “Come take it.” They both scramble and switch places, he awaited her with his cock in his hand as she got her balance over him. His tongue flicked out in focus, his brow low over his eyes and his hair a mess.

Star's body was as ready as it could be for him. She knew not to let impatience win or she’s be waddling tomorrow. She rests one knee up and one down, giving her leverage to aim and then lower herself. She feels him line up, his head and her hole, as she begins a process that requires patience that she does not have. She lets out a little squeak as she feels herself engulf his thick tip.

“You okay?” She looks up to see Eddie s concerned face. She’d almost forgotten he was there too, watching her and worried. He’d be concerned he was too big and she was reminded to make sure he knew that wasn’t the case when it came to her.

“Better than okay.” She gives him a brief smile before locking her lips and humming. “You got my pussy so greedy, I just want to swallow you up.” She scrunches her nose affectionately and puts a hand on his chest for balance. She starts a steady push, feeling the tightness in her body, and her nerve endings not knowing whether to register it as pleasure or pain. She reached to rub her clit, feeling herself open up again as she relaxed. While rubbing her clit her body ached for more of him. She gladly obliged. “Fuck that’s good.” She gritted out, a slow but consistent push of her hips down the entire length of him.

She felt the tight grip he’d held in worry on her thighs loosen.

“Fuck, Eddie.” She let out a lustful sigh, resting her other knee on the bed now as well. Her eyes were closed in concentration, mouth open and letting every good sound leave freely for him to hear. “That’s it.” She sighed, feeling her hips rest against his. “Fits just fuckin right.” She purred and squoze herself around him. After a wiggle of her hips, she runs her hands up and down her body as she begins to lift off his cock. “That's it.” She whispered, concentrating and letting the stretch adjust, by the third slow drag upward she was feeling the fullness with nothing but pleasure. “God damn that’s a good dick, Munson.” She gathered herself, now putting her hands to his chest as she could find a rhythm. “You’ve got some nerve having a dick this good.” She moved to grab his chin and his eyes were fully dilated and feeding her ego with the bold adoration in them. He let out a sound that wasn’t a yelp, his hands shaking on her thighs. “Is it as good for you as it is for me?”

“Fuck Star.” He groaned and his eyes fluttered. “You feel so good.” He sounded as if he might be in pain. “It’s so good you’re so god damn hot. So wet.” He watched where their bodies continuously joined. He sees her fingers move down to rub her clit.

“I can feel this pussy just getting wetter.” Her voice was softer, one of his hands moving to twist her nipple and the other feeling the solid wobble of her ass against him. Her confidence falters in appearance from the already surging forward orgasm she’d neglected earlier. Her hips falter in their bouncing, her muscles starting to twitch again. She reached out to put her hand on the wall above his head. She pulled a pillow under his head to prop him up. “Suck on my tits, Eddie.” It’s a sigh of a request, holding herself up and getting the leverage to slam herself down on him with a clap of skin against skin. He does as he’s told and feeds her tits into his mouth to moan around them. “Ohmygod.” He hears above him, he watches her with a serene face, eyes closed, and hair a curtain around it. She let’s her moans out freely, they build quickly, her hips moving faster. She starts grinding herself against him and he’s groaning at being ridden in a carnal way he wasn’t used to. He felt like she was using his body for her own pleasure, but he didn’t mind in the least.

“Unf!” He lets out as he tries to speak and she moans the sound, her eyes opening to meet his.

“I love those pretty moans, pretty boy.” She grins and runs her hand through his hair.

“You feel so good.” He gently confesses.

“You like it when I grind my pussy on your big cock so I can cum?”

“Oh, cum, Star please.” Her body shudders when he says it and she feels it quickly approaching.

“I’m close.” It comes out more desperate than she meant but she couldn’t care less. “I can feel you in my fucking stomach.” She moans and puts his hand on her lower belly where he can feel the displacement inside her. “That’s so hot. I'm So full of your cock.” She reassures him and he whimpers and it feeds her orgasm more. “I'm gonna cum so hard Eddie. Shit.” She growled. “Grab my hips.” She orders with a slap To his chest. “Hard. Don’t be fucking nice.” She had found a mix of grins and bounces to rub her clit against his body and have him knock back and forth inside her enough to hit her elusive spots.

“Fuck!” He gritted out, veins popping out in his lean arms wheel he grabbed her hips bones and moved her on top Of him. “Jesus Christ Star you’re getting so tight. Shit.” He squinted his eyes to try not to cum, when she let out a quiet sob they shoot back open to watch her fall apart.

“Just like that.” She whined, holding his hair at his crown, the other still Against the wall. “You’re such a good boy.” She panted out. “You’re gonna make me cum.” It sounded almost like a laugh. “Fuck yes Eddie ohmygod!” She cried. He watched her body fight with itself. The desperate need to keep her hips moving against him, which is where his strong grip on them came into play. Her back bowed and chest heaved, her whole body gave over and he was awestruck by the sight of her. Her mouth did nothing but moan and say yes, Eddie on repeat. The praise alone was enough to make him blow his top but he was so desperately hanging on and savoring the vision of her coming apart around him.

She startled him with a loud gasp and her eyes flew back open. She wheezed to catch her breath and ran her hand through her hair.

“Holy shit.” She squeaked out. “Fuh-uhh ck yes.” It was as if she grew fangs for a moment with a deepening of her voice and snarling of her teeth. She moved her eyes down to his and saw that strung-out and fighting face she wanted. “You feel that?” She asked, grabbing his chin. “I know you can feel me running down your balls.” His mouth held open by his grip on him moaned at the words.

“Wanna make you cum again.” He pants out. “Before I cum.”

“Then make me.” She narrowed her eyes and grinned wickedly at him. “Make me cum on your big cock, pretty boy.” She shook his head, fingers dipping into his plush mouth for a moment and moaning at the sight. “Fuck me, Eddie. Fuck me hard. Give me a little mean.” She cooed and put her hand to her throat. “Let me see the indents of those rings on my neck.” She moaned as he gave her a little shake.

“You want fucked hard?” His voice had a little more oomph to it. She squeals devilishly.

“As hard as you can.” She challenged.

“Get on all fours.” He slapped her ass and she moved quickly, ass up and bouncing it at him as he lined up behind her. He pushed in and her arms shook.

“Holy Shit.” She bellowed.

He slides his arm up her back and put his hand on her throat. “You tell me if-“

“Do it, pussy.” Her laugh was cut off by his hand on her neck and his dick starting at a harsh pace.

“She loves to run her fucking mouth doesn’t she?” He grunted as he felt her sounds very muffled in her throat.

“Yes”. She called out.

“Fuck me I’m not gonna be able to get enough of this pussy, Star. Look at you.” He moaned and bit his lip, watching himself sink into her. “That little pussy grips on so fuckin tight and won’t let go.”

“Hit me.” She cried out. She felt him hesitate. “Spank me.” She moaned out as his grip loosened on her throat.

“You want choked or you want spanked? Make up your mind.”

“Spank.” She whined. “Hips. Hold My hips. Fucking tight.” She pleaded. She could feel herself approaching another orgasm from being sensitive from the first. He raised a hand and hit her ass with a loud snap. Luckily it was met with a deep mewl and her arms started to fail.

“Yes”. She threw her head back, hair fanning out over her back. He lands another, his hips pistoning. “Your balls slapping against my clit feels so fucking good.” She whimpered and another spank and a growl was his answer. Eddie was hanging on by a thread. Damned and determined to make her cum again but hold out long enough for himself.

“God dammit… you’re gonna make me cum.” He panted out with pauses that matched the beating of his hips into hers.

“Shit. You’re so good damned deep Eddie.” She whined, whatever came into her horny head falling out of her mouth. He gave her another spank and her elbows buckled.

“That’s it.” He moaned loudly. “M’gonna fuck you into this mattress. Make you take this big dick.” He hears a new sound muffled into the covers. She reached between her legs to get to her clit, she only needed a tiny push over the edge.

“Fuck yes more.” She gasped when she turned her head. “More talk like that.”

“You just want to hear about what a little whore you’re being for me don’t you?” He wasn’t sure if it was too harsh but feeling her seize around him answered him quickly.

“Fuck. Yes. I do.” She mewled and moaned. Eddie got it now. In the middle of teetering on the edge of an orgasm, it clicked.

“You’re such a bad girl, Star. Wanting to get fucked like this.”

Another new sound. One of agreement and wordless and he felt her begin to shake. If she thought he was a good boy, then that made her a bad girl.

“Is this what you wanted huh? Bent over and-“ he hit each cheek hard once. “Spanked?”

“More.” She choked out.

“No. No more.” He grabbed her hips with both hands and pounded into her with no mercy. “So bossy.” He grunted. “Shut up and take my cock.” He groaned out between thrusts as she came around him. This one wasn’t as loud but by god, her whole body shook. Her thighs usually vibrated when she came but this one took her tip to tail. He had no choice but to grunt and groan like an animal as he came inside her. He heard her a mewling mess as she started to have tremors and aftershocks.

She brought out something in him he didn’t explore very often and he relished the experience. He let his hips stutter against her and kept his grip hard on the wide-set hip bones he could just feel under her soft curves. The music played for a few moments with no interruptions from a squeaking bed or dirty talk. They both gasped and smacked their dry mouths as they caught their breath. She feels his hands soften against her, feeling the heat from his body hunched over hers leave.

“Shit.” His voice was strained. He sat back on his knees and rubbed his face before pushing back his hair.

“Mmph.”Is the only response she managed with her face mushed into the mattress. She couldn’t bring herself to move yet, her soaked center on display for him as he watched himself slowly drip out of her. He groaned, his cock twitching exhausted against his thigh. He reaches out his thumb to gently stroke her slit, a small drag over her clit while he admires his work.

She spasms, hips bouncing for a moment the moment he touches her clit. He gives it another light stroke just to see her ass jiggle again.

“Eddie.” she whimpered, letting out a cry so soft and sweet he lead down to give a kiss to the star tattoo on her ass. He gives her reddened cheeks a gentle rub before his hand drags up her back and he flops onto the bed beside her.

“You okay?” He chuckled and rubs her nearly welted hip.

“M’Great.” She sighed and then started to laugh. “Just Lemme.” She whimpered and moved her arms and legs, turning her hips and falling into much the same position as him. “There.” She exhaled noisily and rest her head on her arm.

“That…” he nodded, a smile that beamed down at her from his face perched on his hand made her smile back. “Was fun.” he lets out a dumb deep chuckle.

“As much as I would find it funny to disagree I wholeheartedly can’t.” she hid her face and smiled. “That was…” she mumbles into her arm. “Better than I had anticipated.”

“What the hell does that mean?” he shoved her shoulder. “You didn’t expect me to be any good?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” she grunted and raised up like he was. “I didn’t think it’d be bad. To clarify. For your ego.” she rolled her eyes but her lips were smiling warmly. “As much credit as I willingly give you for being a good guy you are still a guy and maybe I underestimated your… giving nature and how well we’d play off each other.”

“That’s a lot of words to say thanks for the great fuck, Eddie.” he smirked. He got a full laugh out of her and she rolled to her back.

“Thanks for the great fuck, Eddie. It was fun. I had a wonderful time. I’d say can’t wait to do it again but my ass is on fire.” she hissed and turned to give him her back, rubbing a burning cheek.

“The lady asked and I provided.” he defended himself.

“Not a complaint.” she swung her legs over the side of the bed to sit up and turned her face to give him an almost blushing smile. “We gotta get this makeup off.” she groaned as she stood. She shook her legs out and he swooned at the sight of her naked body. “C’mon.” she motioned for him to follow with her hand

“I think you’ve figured out how to get me to do anything you ask.” he says as he rolls and hops to trot after her as she headed to the bathroom. She grabbed a washcloth and soaked it, the cabinet light buzzing as they crowded into the small space.

“I do love some good old-fashioned bribery.” she grinned and rubbed around his eyes. He hummed contently at the warmth of her hands and the cloth. She doted on him like a mother, holding his face and then handing off the cloth for him to finish it off. She did the same to herself, scrubbing the eye makeup off. A yawn quickly overtook her after.

“Shit, it’s probably late.” his eyes darted around, still feeling mentally awake but his body was satisfied and tired.

“You mind if I stay the night?” she asked casually. He tilted his head like a puppy at her and gave her eyes of the same origin.

“No. I’d love that.” he openly admitted.

“I would too.” she turned and put her hand on his chest. “Now if you’ll excuse me I have to pee.”

He’d checked the locks and turned out the lights, making the bed useable since they’d thrown everyone on it around. She walks in and joins him without a word, turning to switch off the tableside lamp.

“You mind?” her voice was sleepy and soft as he felt her hand reach out to find him in the dark.

“Mm?”

“I’d like some aftercare please.” he heard the giggle in her voice and swooped his arm wide to pull them together.

“What would people think if they knew you wanted to snuggle after sex?” he teased and she more aggressively wrapped herself around him than usual.

“I’d say they don’t know how nice skin-to-skin contact is.” she sighed out contently, an arm around his waist, her to his chest. Another change in their usual routine. She was known to pull Eddie’s head into her tits and keep him there to sleep in her bed. But he found himself lacking in the softness of his chest as he laid back and let her mush her face into him. Her leg was thrown over him, as much of their bodies touching as possible. “S’nice.” she mumbled against one of his tattoos.

“It is.” he sighed.

“Night, pretty boy.” she yawned and let out a noisy sigh as she snuggled her face against him, a little squeeze before settling.

“Night, sweetheart.” he kissed the top of her head, neck bent to keep his nose as close to buried in her hair as he could. His hand ran through her hair slowly, lazily and they both felt the tension finally leave their bodies in totality. Star's eyes rolled back behind closed lids at the feeling of him playing with her hair. She was acutely aware of how hot his skin was to hers. She savored the way the blanket lay soft and warm on them and the air chilled where it hit bare skin. It was so quiet and almost blackout dark. She fell asleep without having to try.

With Star's breathing slow and steady against him, he knew she'd fallen asleep already. Knowing she was comfortable, he let his mind finally slow down. Feeling her skin so soft and her body so plush against his harder one made something ache in his chest. He'd been so neglected of physical affection before she showed up. Now he had not only the company of another body touching his but now skin-to-skin contact. Something so vital to humans they rush babies as soon as they're born to their mother's chest for them to feel it. He felt a bit like a child with her like this. There was something so foreign about the need being met but the feeling of being home hummed happily in his brain, soothing his rapidly moving thoughts. He couldn't help but snug his arm around her, pulling her closer, and slipped his hand into hers on his chest. She made no protest. It was the best either had slept in ages.

Part 8

(Yes, this is exactly what I had in mind when I had him say this in the story lol)

Tag List -Just ask to be added.

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#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson x ofc #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fan fic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson au #eddie munson fix it fic #stranger things #stranger things s4 #stranger things au #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fan fiction #eddie munson x ofc #stranger things fan fic #eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #joe quinn #joseph quinn

[unicyclehippo]

furnace.

BG3

meme inspiration: 4 am sure is a time to find out your furnace isn’t working.

dante is already awake when the campfire goes out in the small hours of the morning. soon shadowheart stirs, shivering. they lever up to their feet and slink through sleeping bodies to crouch at her side.

‘can’t sleep?’

it is no surprise that shadowheart flinches at their sudden appearance; what are they but a beautiful instrument of slaughter—voice rough with a knifes-edge rasp, eyes sharp, hands blood-soaked. what could they offer her except pain and death, an opportunity to join the others of her order in her goddess’s empty grasp. what else?

tonight, a blanket.

‘my habit,’ dante mutters as they go through their stuffed backpack, ‘of hoarding every thing we find has served us well.’

‘i suppose it’s bound to happen once,’ she teases. any sign of that initial flinch is expertly hidden.

dante chooses to forget they saw it at all, lobbing that memory into the empty holes in their head. from their backpack they pull a heavy woollen blanket.

‘it’s clean. promise. washed it myself and put it in with some of the herbs i grabbed for our elixirs. smells like… hm. dog.’ dante frowns. ‘oh. this might be scratch’s blanket, now that i think about it. let me get you another—i think the herb packed one is in the chest, actually—‘

shadowheart touches their wrist before they can go far. dante goes tongue-tied, clumsy, and drops back down into their crouch.

‘you needn’t risk waking the others,’ she says, and her eyes don’t quite meet theirs, instead shifting to the silver ash that was once the fire. ‘sit with me a while, you’re plenty warm. lend me your cloak, if you must be chivalrous and keep your distance.’

dante whisks it off before she has finished speaking. it startles a smile out of her, the eagerness with which dante offers it. they are careful not to touch her as they pass over their crimson inheritance.

she notices, of course.

‘decided to keep your distance then?’ she asks, settling the cloak around her shoulders.

‘only if you ask it of me.’ dante shrugs. ‘lets not forget i—something of me—killed a girl a few nights ago.’

a shadow crosses shadowheart’s face. each word she bites out is cold and yet they are the most deeply kind dante can recall.

‘i have not forgotten. just as i do not forget that it was your voice that called me back to life—and has healed me countless times—and shattered arrows and blades and minds in the moments before they would strike me. and do not think for a moment i am blind to how you put yourself in the path of danger to keep me from it. i do not mention these things only because i know how strong you are, how easily it comes to you. and,’ she continues, more gently, ‘how much you enjoy fighting’

the word she doesn’t say is killing. they both know it is true but the secret word, hidden out of kindness, warms dante. there’s something in shadowheart’s look. perhaps the secret warms them both.

‘you think you are safe from me,’ dante whispers. ‘from the monster in the night.’

‘not safe. protected.’

‘your goddess is so powerful?’

‘yes. but i wouldn’t trouble her for this. i think you’d kill yourself before you hurt me. odd.’ she tilts her head. ‘if you were anyone else, i would have said I’d kill them first. but i am…certain of this.‘

dante grins. ‘it would be an honour, dying at the hands of a hero like myself. i hope someone’ll resurrect me so i could sing about it. epics are written about less.’

shadowheart smiles but it’s a fleeting thing. any warmth in her is starting to chill thanks to dante’s cowardly deflection. what is it they had said that night by the waterfall? this had to be a give and take. dante gnaws at their lip, eased by the taste of the blood that wells up.

‘are you feeling warmer?’ a poor start. ‘i—‘

‘why were you awake? you weren’t cold—you run hot as a furnace.’ shadowheart’s lips twist as they both glance over at a snoring karlach. ‘i suppose that’s not much of a metaphor anymore.’

dante rubs their sternum as their gaze lingers on the smouldering barbarian. the things they could do to her before she died…

‘i wasn’t cold.’ most of dante’s mind is occupied in thoughts of how to crack open the ribs and the squish of organs around an infernal engine; the rest of it isn’t quick enough to stop them from blabbing their soft-hearted nonsense. ‘i haven’t been able to sleep. every time i close my eyes, i see her face and i wake up terrified that i’m about to kill someone else.’

dante wrenches their eyes to shadowheart; it takes a great effort to look but when they manage it, she doesn’t seem disgusted. that makes one of them. disgust rises hot in dante’s throat. nor does she seem excited. again, that makes one of them. the memories of alfira’s bloody death—and with her, the death of sweet childish hope dante had clung to, two-handed, since they awoke on a living ship, that the world was good and so were they and they’d befallen something awful but they were good and a hero and could set everything right again—the memories fill their mouth with drool. hunger makes a mouthpiece of dante, toothed and fanged and slavering for the kill.

a cool hand touches their cheek. the heavy scars. the skin is delicate there, sensitive. dante wishes they could remember what had hurt them, what had left needles of pain in them even years after it ought to have healed completely. had it been some last ditch effort to escape the monster that dante was? or had some cruel master done this to dante over the course of bending and twisting dante to some horrific purpose?

there is no answer to those questions—merely the echo of imagined horrors repeating and repeating back to them as the question ricochets through a hollow mind.

shadowheart cups their cheek. ‘what i said before,’ she begins, hesitates. ‘about you enjoying hurting our enemies.’

‘more kindly spoken than i deserve.’

‘it isn’t true. it isn’t fair. you keep so much of yourself back—i know that it’s for my sake. i don’t do well with prying,’ she admits, a smirk shared between them for the understatement. ‘and you hold back your thoughts, your ambitions, waiting for me to share mine. I thought perhaps that was why… but it has become abundantly clear that you don’t know, you don’t see…’ shadowheart shakes her head. meets dabte’s gaze resolutely. ‘very well. if you cannot see it, then it is time for me to share a truth with you. you do not hurt others if there is another way.’

dante holds their tongue between sharp teeth. it is impossible to speak in their own defence. they are an ocean of blood in a skin-thin bag. one moment of weakness, one sharp slice, and they drown the world in it.

she growls, seeing their disbelief. it’s very cute.

‘believe me. think. when have you ever raised your hand against another? think of every time you have stopped us from a needless fight, talked your way out with that clever tongue. for someone who claims to be an irredeemable killer, you choose kindness every chance you get. mercy, even when it is undeserved.’

‘perhaps i like to play with my food.’

she rolls her eyes. pulls back her hand. dante itches to hold it. they stare at her hand long enough for her to know that secret wish.

‘perhaps,’ she says, amused, ‘you become uncomfortable when i - when anyone speaks kindly of you. is mockery your native tongue?’

dante smiles, knowing already the way shadowheart will wince at their gentle words. ‘i don’t know,’ they tell her, almost cheerfully. ‘i can’t remember.’

she starts to speak - to scoff? to apologise? - when impulse drives dante to speak again. if it is a mistake, it will be the most well-intentioned mistake they have ever made.

‘i have forgotten myself but i know this. you like night orchids and cannot swim. you are afraid of wolves but you fought beside one anyway. your magic feels like the sun on my skin,’ dante tells her, apologetic, knowing well how the cleric of darkness will feel about that descriptor. ‘and while my muscles scream memories of dealing agony, yours remember pain. torture. i have forgotten the people i have loved, shadowheart. but i remember how to keep them safe.’

shadowheart grips their cloak tight, pulls it tighter around her shoulders. her face is pale with shock but she does not silence them. when they’re done, she speaks in a voice flat and distant. her eyes…there may be something more there. dante doesn’t pry.

‘time we got some rest, i think.’

dante nods. ‘sleep, then. i’ll keep you safe.’

#you can ignore this #my bg3 tag

[softquietsteadylove]

Well if we got Thenamesh actor AU hurt we also should get a fluff and comfort fic after the stunt desaster, don’t you think? Thena looking after Gil and helping him <3

Thena knocked on the door, waiting patiently, worrying all the while. Even though Gil had been released from the hospital, he had still broken his arm clean through after their stunt had gone terribly wrong. Filming was even on break for a short while as he healed and as they rearranged everyone's schedules. They were filming what they could without him, and that included some of her solo scenes.

But it still left her with more free time to check on Gil, visit him, maybe do her best to lend a helping hand.

Even though it was just the bad luck of things (and the lack of checking on the status of their safety equipment), she still felt bad that it was him that had gotten hurt. The least she could do was bring him some groceries.

"Thena, hey!"

"Hey, Gil, I-"

"Sorry," he apologised, chuckling nervously as he shut the door behind her with his good arm. His injured arm was tucked against his chest--his bare chest. "I'm sorry to, uh, greet you in this state."

Thena just stared, trying to pick her jaw up and say something (anything!).

"They showed me how to get a shirt on at the hospital," Gil continued in a rush. For however embarrassed Thena was, Gil was obviously mortified. "I was trying to get it on when you knocked."

Thena nodded, choosing to look down at the bags in her hands as opposed to the very half-naked Gilgamesh in front of her. She was being silly, she knew. They weren't children, and not only was he in his own home, but he was also injured. It was just a torso--a very bare, very muscular torso.

"Sorry," he apologised again, eagerly scooping the bags up from her hands. "I'll go give it another shot. I'll be-"

"I can help," she volunteered before she could really remind herself just how stupid that was of her to offer. The blush in her cheeks only deepened at the look of gratitude written all over his face. "It must be painful to try and do yourself."

Gil sighed, still cradling his arm against himself. "I guess I wouldn't describe it as fun. They said it would get better as it heals. I can't walk around shirtless all the time."

He could--if he wanted. Thena bit down on the inside of her lip, "I suppose not."

"How's Sprite?" he asked in light conversation, walking up the stairs first to lead Thena to the bedroom.

"She actually made you a card," Thena smiled, handing it over as he paused on the staircase.

He smiled down at the small, simplistic piece of cardstock with a frowny face on it. "Dear Gil, I'm sorry your shattered your arm into a million pieces. That must suck the big one. Sprite."

"A true poet," Thena rolled her eyes at her sister's way with words. But when she looked at Gil again he seemed genuinely moved by the facetious little card.

He shrugged at Thena's skeptical look, holding the card gently, "it's sweet, in her own way."

Thena let out a faint laugh as they continued to Gil's bedroom. He had met her maybe once or twice at this point, but his understanding of her standoffish sister continued to warm her heart. "I suppose so."

Gil opened the door and immediately moved to the bed, where both his sling and his shirt had been abandoned in favour of letting Thena in. "I didn't make it very far."

"I can't imagine it's easy," Thena tilted her brows at him. She could clearly remember how heavy a dose of painkillers they'd given him immediately after the break.

Gil didn't remember it at all--that's how strong they were.

Gil offered her his own shy smile as he leaned his head down, moving his arm away from himself as far as he could.

Thena bunched up the t-shirt in her hands, scrunching it up and condensing the fabric as much as possible. She slipped his fist through the sleeve first, pushing it up to his shoulder.

Gil leaned down closer to her to let her get the neck over his head. Thena turned her head slightly, unable to take the feeling of his face being so close to hers. It was one thing when they were playing husband and wife in a scene--it was one thing to kiss her co-star when they were in character. It was another thing entirely to have Gilgamesh so close to her.

Gil blinked as she pulled the neck of the shirt over his head. He never noticed how much taller than her he was when she wasn't in heels, but he stood back up to his full height, letting her pull the shirt down once his other arm was in. Her fingers brushed against the muscles below his ribs and they both skittered a little further apart. "Th-Thanks for the help."

"Anytime," Thena murmured, twisting her hair around and around and around and then moving it to her other shoulder. She swayed a little on her feet before gesturing vaguely behind her, "the, um, groceries?"

"R-Right!" Gil put on a smile, determined to put his sweet co-star at ease. He certainly didn't feel at ease after parading around in front of her in just some grey sweatpants, but he could wallow in his embarrassment later. "Let me make us some lunch--since you're here!"

"Gil," Thena murmured as she followed him out again, "I can help. You shouldn't be pushing yourself."

"Hey, it's no trouble," he smiled, already halfway down the stairs again. "You were nice enough to bring them anyway."

It was true--she had even braved the grocery store for them. She could already imagine the rumours that were going to pop up if anyone found out that she had brought them here, but she would just have to deal with that later.

"At least let me help," she laughed and scolded him at the same time, joining him in the kitchen as he pulled items onto the counter individually. She held up a bunch of carrots (not having known what to get him but just grabbing whatever she thought he might like). "Sprite will tell you herself that I'm not much of a cook. But at least I can chop some things for you."

"If you insist," he allowed, reaching into the fridge both to put away new things and pull out some milk. "How about some bolognese?"

Thena smiled as he reached around her to set out more ingredients, the warmth from him clinging to her pleasantly. "Sounds perfect."

#Thenamesh Actors AU #Gil keeps Sprite's card proudly displayed #probably even frames it #and Sprite is like that's weird dude #but Thena is so utterly charmed by it #Sprite is like #really??? #right in front of my salad? #just kidding she eats only garbage food and takeout #But Gil has her and Thena over for meals all the time #because he's a great cook #of course #and Thena is like #I just want to make sure he's not hurting himself #putting too much strain on his arm #you know that kind of thing #and Sprite is like #sure Jan #sitting on Gil's couch while he and her sister flirt in the kitchen over a pot of chili

[acacia-may]

But I Always Thought That I'd See You Again (OMORI Fanfiction): CHAPTER 3 [Final Chapter]

CHAPTER 3: HOW CAN YOU MEND A BROKEN HEART [Final Chapter]

Description: When Hero inexplicably locks himself in his room, Kel, Sunny, and Basil turn to Aubrey for help insisting that she is "the best at this kind of thing." She doesn't have the slightest idea when or how she earned that reputation, but Hero has always been there for her and for all of them really, so she knows she will do her best to be there for him too. Step one is, of course, getting him out of the house and away from everyone else so he isn't tempted to help with their problems rather than take care of himself, but that's easier said than done... Getting him to actually open up to her about whatever it is that's troubling him will likely be even harder, but along the way, Aubrey might discover they actually have a lot more in common than she thought...

Relationships: Hero & Aubrey Friendship, Extremely Functional Kelbrey (Romantic Kel/Aubrey), Hero & Kel Sibling Relationship, Past Romantic Hero/Mari, Past Aubrey & Mari Friendship. Some Hero & Aubrey & Kel & Basil & Sunny Friendship. Mentions (Potential) Hero finding love again with someone else (but the story does not specify who she is so choose your own adventure).

Characters: Aubrey (POV Character), Hero, Kel, & Mari's Memory. Mentioned Sunny and Basil.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Slice of Life. Some Angst. Some Past Hero/Mari Fluff & Current Angst, Some Extremely Functional Established Relationship Kelbrey. Hopeful Ending. Hero Deserves to Be Happy. Multi-Chapter. COMPLETE.

Word Count: 4478 (Chapter 3)

Rating: T for some heavy themes and thematic elements (i.e. grief & healing from grief and trauma. Implied/Referenced Canonical Character Death & Implied/Referenced Mental Health Issues including depression & suicide).

Warnings: Major Spoilers for OMORI! Heavy themes and thematic elements (i.e. grief & healing from grief and trauma. Implied/Referenced Canonical Character Death & Implied/Referenced Mental Health Issues including depression & suicide).

Link to original post on AO3. Please do not repost to another website. All other interaction (likes, reblogs ect.) appreciated!

This story is now COMPLETE. Link to Chapter 2.

Link to Story Masterlist.

A/N: This story's title was taken from the song "Fire and Rain" by James Taylor and this chapter's title was taken from "How Can You Mend A Broken Heart" both of which heavily inspired this work. Here's the link to this story's playlist if anyone is curious.

Chapter 3 under the cut! Thank you for reading!! 💕

“Oh…Hero…” Aubrey tripped over her words, unsure what she should say—what she even could say to that. She merely blinked at him wondering how it was that even now, over a decade after Mari’s death, she still had had no idea that this was such a significant day for him. To be fair, it wasn’t just her. None of them had known—not even Kel. Hero was so private about his grief.

“It’s okay,” he reassured her with a sigh and a slight smile. “I’m usually okay, even today. It’s just been…especially hard this year I guess…” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” she gently encouraged, and Hero’s face flushed as he twisted his hands. 

“I’m…honestly kind of embarrassed…” he mumbled. 

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. There are always going to be hard days. I know I still have them.” She sighed. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to—I just…want you to know that I’m here for you if you need someone and I’m never going to judge you. Honestly, there’s nothing to judge here—you have every right to be sad.”

“I guess I just…wasn’t expecting it to hurt as much anymore. It’s been almost thirteen years now…”

Aubrey shrugged. “That’s just a number, Hero. It doesn’t matter how many years it’s been—it’s okay to still miss her. I know I do”—her voice hitched—“and I didn’t even love her as much as you did.”

She paused—suddenly thinking about Kel, about what she would do if he… She stopped abruptly, overwhelmed by an ache in her chest and a burning sensation behind her eyes. She wanted to reach out and hug Hero just thinking about it—about how painful that must be, but she thought it might be a little awkward to try to hold him over the center console of her parked car so she reached out her hand and patted his shoulder instead. “I think you’re a much stronger person than me, Hero. If someone deserves to be broken up about it, it’s you, and you should take as much time as you need. No one would blame you if you just…never moved on.” 

Hero took a long, shaky breath then pressed his lips together. “That’s…that’s the thing, Aubrey. I…” His voice was so quiet she could barely hear him. He stared intently at his hands—twisting them together, refusing to look at her. It was almost like he couldn’t. “I had actually been thinking…”—he swallowed hard—“That is I…I actually wondered if maybe…I might be…ready…to...um...” 

Aubrey tried her best to stifle a gasp. Of all the things she could’ve expected…she would have never even entertained this as a possibility. Hero had never expressed any interest in pursuing a relationship with anyone after Mari. They all respected it and never pried, just quietly resigned themselves to the fact that Hero might never love again, so to hear that he was actually, seriously considering moving on... She just couldn’t hold back the smile that tugged at her mouth as her eyes started to grow misty. “Really?”

Hero blushed, and Aubrey’s breath caught in her throat. The expression on his face was so flustered but so warm, so affectionate—she never thought she’d ever see him make that face again. “Yeah…uh…I was actually…kind of thinking that I might ask someone out.”

Aubrey’s jaw fell slack. Here she had been worried that Hero was listening to sad music and still pining after Mari when actually he was thinking about moving on. A flabbergasted but excited chuckle escaped her lips, and she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him—center console be damned. “Hero, that’s wonderful! I…you have no idea how excited everyone is going to be to hear that, especially Kel.”

“Just…Just for coffee…” he stumbled quickly, awkwardly patting her on the back. “Nothing too big or dramatic or anything…”

“This is big, Hero,” said Aubrey pulling away from him with a wide, bright smile. “You…you’ve met someone…” It wasn’t really a question.  

His blush deepened. “I think it’s more like I finally saw someone who had been there for a long time.”

“So it’s someone you know well?” Aubrey repeated wracking her brain trying to think of Hero’s closest friends and who this could possibly be. She supposed it was really none of her business, but she was curious. Hero nodded and hummed.

“For a long time. We became close friends in college and we’re in this wedding together now so we’ve been seeing a lot of each other and…I guess I’ve just been thinking…realizing that…when I’m with her, I—I don’t know, Aubrey—I…feel things that I didn’t know I could feel anymore…” His voice trailed—quiet, distant as if he had forgotten himself, but his cheeks flushed a bright red. Aubrey’s eyes widened, but she could only blink at him in shock. Was Hero…? Was he really… in love?

The question felt somewhat silly and juvenile, especially seeing as he had never even been on a date with this woman, but…Aubrey couldn’t help but wonder. There was something so incredibly gentle and sincere in his face—something so warm and wistful, almost pining in his dark eyes as he sighed with a certain love-struck helplessness that Aubrey honestly didn’t think she would ever see from him again.

“Honestly,” he shyly admitted. “I…I think I’ve felt this way for a long time but…I just…wasn’t ready to see it.”

Aubrey’s chest ached as she watched his face light with so much ardent affection. She couldn’t help but think of how he had once looked this way when he talked about Mari, but she couldn’t stop smiling, couldn’t be anything but completely and unequivocally happy for him. At least, she was…until his face fell, and he sighed heavily with a shake of his head. “But it doesn’t matter anymore. I can’t pursue that.”

“What do you mean? Why not?”

With another heavy sigh, Hero shrugged his shoulders, evaded her question. “It was probably stupid of me to even consider it…to even think that I could—” He stopped, swallowed hard. “I don’t know who I’m kidding, Aubrey… I still miss Mari and no matter how much I thought I might be over it and ready to move on, I was miserable today—not just because I still miss her but because I realized that I am always going to miss her. No matter how much I might be sitting around wondering if I might be ready to love someone else, I can’t just forget about her. There will probably always be part of me that still loves her and that’s just not fair: not to Mari and not to—”

He stopped abruptly, seemingly unwilling or perhaps unable to say the name of whoever it was that had him actually thinking about love again. Hero took a long, shaky breath. “I just feel so guilty about the whole thing. If I really loved Mari, I wouldn’t feel this way about anyone else, but if really cared about someone else, I wouldn’t still feel so broken up about Mari. The truth is I… I just don’t have my whole heart to give away anymore—it’s too broken, and she deserves more than that, deserves to be someone’s one and only.”

“Hero, I…” she sighed with a long exhale. She had no idea what to say—what could she possibly say to that? She suddenly had a newfound appreciation for Kel’s fears of saying the wrong thing to Hero and hurting him–making him feel even worse than he already did.

“I’m sorry,” he quickly apologized—eyes widening with horror and realization as if he hadn’t meant to say any of that. “I shouldn’t have dumped all of that on you.”

“No, Hero, I—I’m your friend. If there’s anything I can do to help, I…I’ll do it, no questions asked. I’m always here for you, and it means a lot that you felt you could share that with me. It couldn’t have been easy.”

Flushing, Hero managed a quick nod, and Aubrey patted his shoulder, taking a deep breath and praying that the next words that came out of her mouth wouldn’t make everything worse.

“I can’t imagine how hard this all is for you, and I know that this probably doesn’t mean a lot coming from me but…feeling guilty about this is actually really normal, even if you haven’t done anything to feel guilty about.” Her face softened, and she met his eyes. “And you haven’t, Hero. You’ve done nothing wrong. You don’t have to forget about Mari ever —even if you do fall in love again. And anyone who really loves you wouldn’t want you to. You just have to find someone who isn’t threatened by that or jealous—someone who really understands that just because you loved Mari and lost her doesn’t mean that there isn’t room in your heart for someone else. Missing her doesn’t mean you need to feel guilty for wanting to be happy. I know Mari wouldn’t want that. She really loved you and would want you to be happy. And I know that your happiness doesn’t necessarily have to involve a new relationship and maybe it doesn’t—that’s okay, but don’t close the door to it just because you’re scared that you’re not enough. Even if your heart is broken and pieced back together, it’s still yours, and if you find someone who loves you, that’s all that’s going to matter.” 

Her mouth twitched in the corners as she added with a somewhat sheepish dryness, “Believe me, I speak from experience…” She sighed as her cheeks grew suddenly warm. “I know that’s probably awkward for me to say seeing as I’m dating your brother but…putting that aside for just a second,”—she chuckled breathily, sheepishly—“I do know how it feels to worry you’re not enough for someone you love—to think that if you really loved this person, you’d tell them to find someone better. I know that that seems like a selfless thing, but it’s actually kind of selfish—because it’s really just protecting yourself from the day that they realize they’ve made a huge mistake and could have— should have done better. It’s really just pushing them away before they can leave, before you might get hurt.”

She paused and sighed heavily, staring out the windshield. “I know it feels like the strong thing to do is to keep the door shut and resign yourself to being alone forever, but you actually have to be a lot stronger to open it up again. It takes a very strong person not to be afraid to accept the love someone wants to give you—even when you feel like you don’t deserve it.”

After a long, heavy pause, Hero finally mumbled with wide, dark eyes, “Wow…that’s really deep…” 

A smile twitched in the corners of Aubrey’s mouth. “I just saved you years of therapy,” she quipped. “You’re welcome.”

“Does that really work?” 

Aubrey shrugged. “Maybe…I don’t know…Sometimes. I think it's an ongoing struggle. There’s part of me that’s still terrified every time I think about Kel looking at rings.” She stopped. She hadn’t meant to say that part aloud. “Sorry... I didn’t mean to make this about me.” 

“No, I’d really rather you did.” 

Aubrey stifled a laugh. “Yeah I’m sure you would, but like it or not, this is about you, Hero”—she pointedly tilted her head at him—“and your life and your future…even if you don’t know what that looks like right now or even what you want it to look like. I’m sorry to say that’s just something you’ll have to figure out on your own, but even if your life isn’t the one you planned and sometimes maybe even isn’t the life you thought you wanted, that doesn’t mean it can’t still be a happy one.”

She sighed, shaking her head at her hands. “It’s probably not really my place to say this, but I don’t think you have to force yourself to forget about Mari or feel guilty when you still miss her in order to be happy, even if you do find love again. You probably have the biggest heart of anyone I know, so there’s no doubt in my mind that even if there’s a part of you that will always miss her, there is more than enough room in your heart for someone else too. And no matter how broken you might think that you are, that person, the one that you choose…not to replace Mari but to open your heart to again, whoever she is—she’s not going to feel slighted or less than. All she’s going to feel is so, so lucky.”

As she met his eyes, the hard, weary lines of Hero’s face softened, and he leaned across the center console of the car and hugged her. As her eyes widened in surprise, her shoulders stiffened, but after the shock wore off, she relaxed, wrapping her arms around his back and pressing her chin to his shoulder. She wasn’t sure how long they held each other before he finally pulled away saying, “Thank you. I…I really needed that.”

Aubrey sighed in relief but shrugged her shoulders with a slight smile. “Glad I could help.”

“And I’m not sure if it means anything coming from me but”—he paused, met her eyes—“Kel really loves you.”

A blush flushed in her flaming cheeks, but a smile tugged at her mouth. “I don’t know what he sees in me,” she bantered shakily, with a twitch of her shoulders.

Hero smiled kindly at her. “I do.”

 Aubrey’s face burned as her blush deepened. She turned away from him abruptly, and he stumbled over his words. “I don’t mean that in a weird way. Just in a…you’re really great kind of way. And Kel knows that—thinks you’re amazing. I mean…he’s my brother so I’ve known him his whole life, and I’ve never seen him like this—this happy and just…besotted,” he added dryly with a breathy chuckle before he tilted his head with a warm, gentle expression in his eyes. “You know I was just thinking earlier that it's kind of funny but…Kel also really likes love ballads from the 1970s—pretty sure his favorite is one called ‘Aubrey.’”

Aubrey's face flushed, and her cheeks burned. Biting her lip, she stared at her trembling hands, unable to find her words—find a way to shrug it off or banter something and change the subject to anything else, but Hero just hummed thoughtfully and continued, “Back before the two of you were dating, I kind of picked up on the fact that Kel was lovesick and seriously pining after somebody. I didn’t know who and I didn’t feel right asking or prying into his business, but I wanted to help so I lent him a whole stack of records just filled with all those great pining love songs.” 

He paused, a secret smile twitching in his mouth as he let out a dry chuckle. “Imagine my surprise when he practically begs me to let him keep Guitar Man of all things. When I asked why, he said he just couldn’t get enough of one of the songs, and, of course, I was kind of thinking well maybe it was ‘Sweet Surrender’ and he was planning to confess but…when I asked him, he got all flustered and was just bright red. Finally, he kind of shyly admitted, ‘Well…it’s…it’s “Aubrey”’…”

His eyes grew distant, wistful, but he paused, shrugged his shoulders. “To be fair, ‘Aubrey’ is a beautiful song of longing and unrequited love just universally, but you know Kel, he just…doesn’t read that deeply into things, and I knew what he heard was a song about a man who was helplessly, desperately in love with an incredible girl ‘ and Aubrey was her name ,’ and I felt so stupid for not realizing it before,” chuckled Hero. “But when I saw that look on his face when he said he just couldn’t stop listening to that song—I just…I knew he loved you, even if he didn’t know it yet.”

“I…I didn’t…” Aubrey’s voice trailed off as her face blushed a bright red. “He never told me about that.”

“I’m sorry you had to hear it from me then,” shrugged Hero with a light laugh and a slight flush in his cheeks.

Aubrey smiled—twisting her mouth to one side. “Do you have a song like that you’ve been listening to recently?”

“‘How Can You Mend A Broken Heart?’” Hero replied so dry and deadpan that Aubrey couldn’t be sure if he was being facetious or serious. Still, she gave him a sympathetic smile before she sighed.

“I meant about your mystery lady…Is there a song that always makes you think of her when you listen to it?”

Hero’s face turned crimson. “Well…uh…I…” He paused and stared down at his hands before shyly, quietly admitting, “‘She’s Got A Way...’”

Despite his flaming cheeks, Hero chuckled lightly and dryly added, “Another 70s ballad, what do you know?”

“Fits with the theme of the evening,” bantered Aubrey before she shrugged her shoulders. “But I actually don’t think I’ve ever heard that song.”

“Oh uh…well you should someday. It’s a good one.” Though his face was still particularly red, he tilted his head towards her with the twitch of a dry smile. “You should listen to ‘Aubrey’ too. It has your name in it—several times.”

“Maybe I’ll ask Kel to play it for me,” she teased, trying her best to ignore that blush that burned in her cheeks when she thought of him listening to a love song about an ‘Aubrey’ over and over, pining after her.

“He still has the record, I think. I told him he could just keep it—it meant a lot more to him than me,” Hero chuckled, and Aubrey twisted her mouth—trying and failing to frown at the knowing, teasing expression on his face. “We can ask him when we get back.”

She tilted her head at him. “Are you ready to go home already?”

“Yeah…I—” Hero was cut off by another weary yawn. He rubbed his tired eyes. “I obviously need a nap.”

Aubrey chuckled lightly, but she tilted her head at him. “You’re sure you’re feeling, okay? We can hang out here for as long as you want…or if there was somewhere else you wanted to go…”

“No, uh…thank you, but that’s okay.” Hero’s expression softened, and he smiled at her. “I…uh…I feel a lot better now. Thanks, Aubrey.”

He gently patted her head like he had used to do when she was a kid and just like back then, her face felt a bit warm—a bit embarrassed by the friendly, almost-familial affection. Her family had never been affectionate with each other in this way so she couldn’t be sure but she liked to imagine that if she had really had an older brother, he would have patted her head just like this. A smile tugged at Aubrey’s mouth at the thought. She had always wanted a brother.

When she turned the key in the ignition to start the car again, Hero stopped her with a blustering, confused, “Wait, we need to get those batteries first.”

“Hero…” she sighed, shaking her head. “Kel just made that up.”

“No, we actually are out of D Batteries. I put them on the shopping list on our refrigerator.” He wearily rubbed his hand across his forehead. “Come to think of it, I should have grabbed that list since we were coming to Other Mart anyway…I really am out of it.”

“It’s fine,” she reassured him. “If you think of something you want or that you guys need, we can pick it up while we’re here, but otherwise, Kel and I can go out shopping later. Don’t worry about it.” She paused, sighed. “Honestly, we don’t even really have to go in. We can just head home if you’re tired.”

“I didn’t have you drive all the way here just so we could have a heart-to-heart chat in the parking lot,” laughed Hero. “It was nice, but…I still don’t think we should head back empty handed.”

Aubrey shrugged but conceded, “Fair enough.”

*-*-*

With D batteries, a gallon of milk, laundry detergent, and two canisters of cocktail peanuts in hand, Aubrey finally drove Hero home where they were shocked to find Basil, Sunny, and Kel sitting in the living room folding laundry.

“What…what is this?” asked Hero as a touched smile tugged at his mouth.

“We decided to do your laundry for you, surprise!” exclaimed Kel with a beaming smile. “Well…uh…Basil did actually. He’s way better at dividing the colors and knowing which cycle to use and everything, but Sunny and I helped with the folding.”

Basil’s face flushed, and he mumbled, “Um…it was nothing. Just wanted to help…” as Sunny nodded in emphatic agreement.

Hero sniffled before he hugged Kel tightly. “Thank you so much. You really didn’t have to do this.”

Kel’s eyes widened as he glanced in confusion at Aubrey over his brother’s shoulder. Aubrey just shrugged and Kel did the same before wrapping his arms around Hero. “Are you feeling better?” he asked as Hero gave him a final pat on the back then turned to hug both Sunny and Basil as well.

“Yes, I…um…I’m feeling a lot better. Sorry for worrying everyone.”

“It’s okay,” said Basil who was already looking a bit misty-eyed again. “We’re just glad you’re alright.”

Sunny nodded in agreement, and Kel turned to Aubrey with a twitch of his eyebrows that seemed to ask, ‘ Is he really going be okay ?’

Aubrey’s face softened, and a gentle smile tugged at her lips as she nodded at him. She hoped her expression conveyed the hope that she felt that the worst was over and they didn’t have to worry about Hero anymore. He was going to be okay. No , she thought, remembering back to their conversation in the Other Mart parking lot. He was going to be more than okay.

As Hero took a seat on the sofa and insisted on folding the rest of the laundry himself, Kel slipped his hand into Aubrey’s and gave it a tight squeeze.

“Are you okay?” he asked, and she nodded, meeting his kind eyes.

“Yeah…just thinking…”

“About what?”

She hummed, taking a seat beside him. “This song Hero told me about. It’s called ‘Aubrey.’”

Kel’s face flushed just barely, but he smiled at her with a look in his eyes that was so warm, so sincere. “I love that song.” He paused, but his face lit up. “You want to hear it?”

Aubrey nodded, and Kel turned to his brother. “Hey, Hero, can I borrow your iPod?”

“Sure, but wouldn’t you rather just use the record?” he chuckled with a furrowed brow.

Kel shrugged. “Too much work, and what if we want to listen to other music too. Hero has great taste.”

“Yes, he does,” she said with a smile, and this was only solidified in the next hour of what was probably the world’s best music beginning with the one and only ‘Aubrey.’ Hero was right; it was a beautiful song of longing and unrequited love. She tried not to blush too much thinking about it, thinking about Kel listening to its pining words over and over, but she couldn’t stop her eyes from growing misty. She could scarcely believe it was true that anyone could listen to such a beautiful and emotionally raw love song, listen to lines like “I'd go a 1000 times around the world, just to be closer to her than to me…”  when thinking of her. But…maybe that was just Kel. Hero’s words rang in her head, Kel really loves you … She reached out and squeezed Kel’s hand—causing him to turn to her with surprise, but as the final note sounded, he intertwined their fingers and smiled at her.

The conversation quickly turned to what to have for dinner and everyone’s plans for the upcoming weekend, and the music faded into the background. In the midst of Basil’s anecdote about the caterpillar problem he was having at the greenhouse, Aubrey’s ears perked up at a line in the background music: “She’s got a way about her…”

She froze and glanced over at Hero wondering if this was the song he had mentioned earlier. The pink blush of his cheeks told her everything she needed to know, but he nodded at her with a slight smile and shrug of his shoulders. She tried her best to listen to the song—catching phrases that made her chest ache like, “She's got a smile that heals me…I don't know why it is, but I have to laugh when she reveals me …” 

Her breath got caught in her throat and tears prickled in the back of her eyes. When the music swelled, her jaw fell slack as she listened to the crystal clear: “She's got a way of showin' h ow I make her feel , and I find the strength to keep on goin' . She's got a light around her, and everywhere she goes a million dreams of love surround her.”

“Hey, I recognize this song now,” said Kel with a blissfully unaware smile. “You’ve been listening to this one a lot, Hero.”

Hero’s face flushed, and he shrugged—turning away abruptly when he met Aubrey knowing but misty expression. She almost wanted to practically lunge over the coffee table, throw her arms around Hero and hold him—tell him how happy she was for him, but she thought that might embarrass him and lead to too many questions he wasn’t ready to answer. After all, he hadn’t even told her who this ‘She’ was.  

“Yeah…um…it’s a good one,” he said with a sheepish smile. “What do you think, Aubrey?”

Aubrey sniffled but cleared her throat. “I think it’s beautiful”—her voice hitched, and she smiled kindly at Hero hoping her words meant infinitely more than what she said—“I really hope things work out for them.”

“Me too,” said Basil, wiping his eyes.

“I’m pretty sure Billy Joel has been divorced three times,” mumbled Sunny, completely deadpan, and Basil sniffled.

“That’s so sad.”

“Oh man, that’s rough,” sighed Kel. “It’s a beautiful love song though.”

Aubrey watched as a smile tugged at Hero’s mouth. She wasn’t sure if the others noticed it—that warm, wistful look in his eyes that they hadn’t seen in over a decade, the way his face lit up, the way he looked… happy again as he sighed and said, “Yes. It is.”

*-*-*

Nearly two weeks later, Aubrey received a package in the mail. In the box was a James Taylor record—the same one her father had once given her but that she had broken—tied with a bright pink bow. There was a pink sticky note on the cover that read:

Aubrey,

You’re right. We shouldn’t have to forget.

Thanks again for everything.

-Hero

As she pulled off the sticky note with a smile, she noticed the small arrow drawn in the bottom right corner. Her brow furrowed curiously as she flipped over the note, and she practically squealed at the post-script, startling her roommates Kim and Charlie:

P.S. I’m taking her out for coffee on Saturday.

#hero and aubrey's friendship is underrated #hero deserves to be happy #healthy male female friendship for the win!! #my writing #thank you for reading!! #omori spoilers #final chapter #part 3 of 3 #now complete