#Why am I the idiot that didn't block them four months ago

[aeolianblues]

one last thing I will say on that topic. Americans getting upset about you calling out Zionism. When you're not talking about Judaism or in fact, about religion at all. When you're talking about a national military funded by a country that has been dropping bombs on the middle east since the 1980s. But then I suppose when people who are so so so comfortable with equating a whole religion, or further a whole entire group of multiple ethnicities, with simply 'terrorism', are criticised on any aspect of their wrongdoings of course they must think we're talking about their whole religion. Literally every word is a projection.

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

Mr. (Not so) Perfectly Fine

AN: Not sure where this came from, but here we are. Maybe one day I'll write Josh in a non-toxic way lol. Also tagging Kai @lovelyhan because it's the law. I joked about writing a series of fics based on Taylor Swift songs. This fic isn't part of that idea. I just thought this title felt fitting (it's based off of a Taylor Swift song for anyone unaware).

Synopsis: Falling in love with Joshua was easy. It came to you easier than breathing. It's no wonder, then, that when he offers you a fraction of his affection after shattering your heart months ago, that you would grasp for it. Regardless of the consequences.

General tags and warnings: Joshua Hong x Fem! Reader, not super relevant to the plot but, this is a Non-Idol AU, exes to exes with benefits, elements of angst, Josh is emotionally constipated, Soonyoung and Seungkwan featuring as supportive but, tired friends, discussions around Reader having low self-esteem and being self-loathing at times, discussions around an unhealthy relationship and returning to it, alcohol and alcohol consumption, Seokmin featuring as a genuinely good guy who probably deserves better and discussions around jealousy and possessiveness on Josh's end.

Smut tags: mentions of throatfucking, mentions of piv sex with a condom (I know who am I?), mentions of a Daddy kink, it's implied that Josh is pretty self-centered (generally but, sexually more specifically) but, that does get remedied later, nipple play (f. receiving), Reader sucks on Josh's fingers, praise (f. receiving), implications of Reader being a bit of a masochist, Reader sits on Josh's face, overstimulation (f. receiving), pet names, dirty talk, begging, piv sex without a condom, marking (f. receiving), biting (f. receiving) and creampie.

Word count: 8514 (...I don't want to talk about it.)

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

The first time you found yourself at Joshua's doorstep was an innocuous Thursday evening. The sun had begun its descent on the horizon when you began the familiar route to his apartment building. You're not entirely sure what possessed you to knock on his front door, or what had possessed you to drive there to begin with. However, when he swung his door open, dressed in nothing but, a simple black shirt that clung a little too tightly to his broad chest and some grey sweats. Surprise colouring his handsome face, you knew it was too late to back away now.

To your shock, however, Josh had let you in without much question. Stepping aside wordlessly, you took the very obvious invitation. The sight of his living room was familiar in a way that churned the pit of your stomach. You weren't going to fall apart in his living room like the way you had when he broke up with you. You wouldn't allow yourself to. Wasn't it pathetic enough that you'd come grovelling back to him without much of a reason as to why? That you're likely about to have the most uncomfortable conversation that you've had in your entire life?

You're not sure what you'd expected from Joshua. He joined you on his couch, always too white for your liking but, didn't say anything. You weren't sure if he'd been waiting for you to explain why you're at his place after close to four months of next to zero contact.

Idiot. Of course he was.

"I," you start but, the words never seemed to find you. You focused on the pictures that decorated his wall. Choosing to look at anywhere that wasn't him at the risk of losing your already fickle train of thought. Pictures of him in suits with different friends and business partners. His work smile working overtime in all of them as he'd been showered with endless awards and promotions.

His work had always been the love of his life.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," were the first words he'd uttered to you in months. That had caused you to whip your head to face him. Reading Joshua was a skill you had never been able to master.

Master? You doubt you'd even be considered an amateur at it after a year of being with him.

His face betrayed little but, a barely there glimmer of understanding bled through that even you managed to catch. Understanding is an emotion you wouldn't typically associate with the someone like him. However, it flickers across his too handsome face nonetheless.

Perhaps you should've consulted an exorcist because before you know it, you're not sure what caused you to kiss him. You two have barely spoken, and there you were, gripping his shirt like a lifeline and kissing him on his stupid couch as the figures in his photographs act as spectators. You were going to apologise. You were going to erase him for good from your brain and dig a hole for yourself to crawl into.

But, then he'd kissed you back. His kiss, much like him, wasn't all passion and desperation. It was slow. Methodical. His soft lips refamiliarising themselves with your mouth once more gradually. As if he had all of the time in the world. Testing to see if this would be worth it. If you would be worth it.

Whatever he had been looking for during his exploration, he seemingly found because before you knew it, you found yourself amidst the sheets of his bed. Cool, navy blue sheets acting as a balm to your far too hot skin while his large hands mapped the expanse of your body. His heavy cock bruised the back of your throat before you found yourself arched for him with your face in one of his soft pillows and his long fingers in your hair. After months of no sex, specifically no sex with him, it took you a few long moments to adjust to the sting he provided.

From then, it was bliss.

His pillow muffling your whimpers and moans. Cries of 'Joshua' and 'Josh' and 'Daddy' were partially swallowed by the soft material. Your fingernails clawed at his sheets while he found relief in your body. His hips stuttered into you and filling the condom he had hurriedly put on, especially when the last title had hit his ears.

The two of you dressed in silence. The ruffling of your clothing and the sounds of the city all that you had to comfort you. When you stood on unsteady legs to leave, he hadn't walked you out. Not that you expected him to but, that didn't stop the sting from developing behind your eyes and your throat from growing tight.

Bliss was so, so easy to come back to. And come back, you did. You and Joshua still hadn't spoken all that much. Not putting any labels on... whatever tentative understanding the two of you had. You simply show up to his apartment, and he knows what you're here for. If you can't have him the way you want to, you'll have to settle for the way he needs you.

Two weeks.

Two weeks is the longest time you've gone without knocking on Joshua's front door. You can't help the guilt that twists up inside you and shreds your insides. However, you know rationally that you have nothing to feel guilty about. Joshua isn't your boyfriend anymore. He hasn't been for six months now. The two of you simply find solace in each other's bodies. It has just been easier with him than expending your time and energy on trying to meet anyone. Especially with how little energy and time you have as it with work all but, drowning you.

However, as Seungkwan has tried to sear into your brain, this isn't exactly healthy. Letting yourself fall into his bed and come apart underneath him for the past three months is likely in your top five unwisest decisions you've made in adulthood.

But god, it's just so easy.

"You know you deserve better," Seungkwan stresses to you for the likely millionth time. His typically kind face marred with a frown that does not suit him in the slightest. His glass of wine left completely untouched on your coffee table with his arms cross over his chest. Soonyoung nods, taking a sip of his own wine before speaking, "He's a dick. He's pretty much been using you since the two of you started dating."

"That's not true," you protest, your wine sloshing dangerous before you simmer down a little. "Joshua has his....issues but, I don't think it's fair to say all he does is use me. I mean, I'm the one who showed up to his door after us being broken up," you argue, "If anything this is a mutual using of each other."

"Except you're in love with him," Seungkwan deadpans. Soonyoung once again nods in agreement. Traitor.

"I'm not in love-"

You promptly stop talking when both men shoot you looks. Your face warms and you hide in your glass of wine. The liquid pleasantly heating your veins and acting as a phenomenal distraction from the gazes of your friends that are far, far too piercing.

"We're just here because we're worried," Soonyoung says softly and you can't bare to look into his eyes right now. You're too scared to see what you'll find in them. You're not sure what's worse. The pity or the frustration from the two of them.

"If it makes you two feel any better, I haven't gone to him in two weeks," you respond weakly. Despising the knot that builds in your throat and the tears that burn your eyes. You feel no better than when you were in university crying to them about shitty hookups and even shittier exes.

"That's a great start," Seungkwan responds sounding genuinely happy. Genuinely proud of you. His warm, larger hand grabbing yours and rubbing soothing circles into your skin. "Also, I'm sorry. I know you're an adult and I don't want to come across like I'm scolding you but, it's really hard watching you go back to him and break your heart all over again."

Oh, the guilt is back. Different but, present all the same. At this point, it's become an ever present companion for you.

"I'm sorry too. I know it's not fair for me to put the two of you through this either," you whisper in response. You don't think you're capable of speaking any louder right now.

"Hey now!" Soonyoung butts in, grabbing you both by your shoulders and crushing you to his chest. Seungkwan, to everyone's shock, only protests minimally, "What are friends for? Now both of you stop being so gloomy. We're here to get tipsy on cheap wine, inhale all the carbs we can and watch bad movies. Get it together."

The laugh that Soonyoung forces from you is foreign and a little rough around the edges but, it's one of the few you've managed in longer than you care to think about. And if you cling to him more fiercely than usual, he has the grace not to mention it.

It gets a little easier after that. You haven't found yourself knocking at Joshua's door for a good month now. Soonyoung seems ready to throw you a party over it and the same pity isn't as present in Seungkwan's gaze when the three of you find the time to catch up with each other.

Joshua never messages or calls you in the time you don't spend in his bed. You suppose you shouldn't be surprised. You're typically the one reaching out to him and making the journey to his apartment to experience a fraction of him. To bask in whatever he's willing to offer you.

You're not sure whether what you two have can be classed as affectionate. It was better than nothing, at least, you had supposed.

You still can't help the sparks of bitterness that fester in your system when you open up your chat with him. A simple 'Okay' from him being the last message in the conversation when you asked if you could come over. God, you were pathetic. Sad. Desperate.

Perhaps it's pettiness or spite or the resentment or maybe some part of you still wants his attention but, you send him a message before locking your phone for the night and turning away to face your windows. The voice in your head (that sounds suspiciously like Seungkwan) echoes that maybe that wasn't a good idea. Maybe allowing your anger to get the better of you wasn't wise. However, what's done is done. You just hope sleep finds you quicker than it has over the past two years.

You: I'm going on a date on Friday.

Seokmin is a nice guy.

No, calling him nice isn't fair or true to the man's character. Nice is vague. Meaningless. A platitude at best.

Ever since Soonyoung very heavy handedly sent you his number in the hopes that you'd focus your attention elsewhere, you two had been speaking borderline nonstop for a week now. Him regaling you with the less glamorous aspects of being an actor and you venting to him about a particular unruly classroom. You'd learned that he cried easily and had a weakness for anything dogs related. He'd learned that you love musicals and random historical facts.

It was the first time in a long time Joshua had barely crossed your mind. He still had but, it was an improvement. A week wasn't realistic enough to completely be clean of him but, you were taking steps. Seokmin definitely made it less difficult.

So, when Seokmin, nervousness rolling off of him in waves even over text, had asked you on a date, it was a no-brainer that you'd agree without much question. You deserve a pleasant night out. It also certainly doesn't hurt that Seokmin is an Adonis of a man.

You honestly don't remember the last time you were giddy over a date. Over a man. Butterflies kicking up in a storm in your stomach when you agonise over what you should wear. The temptation to cancel springing up more times than you count with every drag of your hangers and article of clothing that adds to pile accumulating on your bedroom floor. Fortunately, you find a dress in the back of your wardrobe that clings to you in a way that balances attractive and formal masterfully.

Seokmin is somehow even more attractive in person. All the pictures you came across during your search across his social media accounts do not even begin to do him justice. He's funnier too. His tales of disastrous productions and poor costume fittings prompting laughter out of you the likes of which mostly Soonyoung and Seungkwan are able to. Before you know it, it's already been three hours, and your mostly plates and glasses remain largely untouched.

"I had a great time," Seokmin starts once you two are outside. Whether it's the breeze or his proximity to you, goosebumps rise on your skin. It doesn't help that his cologne infiltrates your senses and muddles your mind further. The butterflies have chosen now to make a reappearance as well.

"Me too," you reply, your cheeks hurting from how hard you've been smiling all night and now isn't any different. Seokmin looks for all the world that he wants you to kiss him. Kind, brown eyes fliting down to your lips in a way you assume he hopes is subtle but, it's not. Terribly so. It's cute though. He's cute. However, you think you're going to take it slower this time around. As infatuating as he is, you know you're in no place to be kissing anyone.

Before you can bring up a different topic to help cut some of the tension weighing on your chest, your phone vibrates in your hand. Alerting you that your Uber has arrived.

"Looks like my ride is here," you tell him with a disappointed turn of your lips. For all your reservations, you really wouldn't have minded spending some more time with the man who would put the sun to shame.

"Have a safe ride home. Text me when you get home, okay?" And his blinding smile spreads across his handsome face once more. You've only known Seokmin for a short period but, it feels freeing to talk to someone whose feelings you don't need to attempt to decipher. They're there and clear as day on his face and in his words. Or maybe you're projecting. That's possible.

"Will do. Text me when you get home too, okay?" You reply, steeling your resolve before pulling him in for a hug. Hugs are fine. Safe. At least a safer option than kissing. Seokmin happily returns the gesture and heat that you haven't felt in some time begins to simmer in the very pit of your stomach when you feel how solid he is.

Now is not the time.

"Of course. It was nice getting to finally meet you in person. Hopefully we can see each other again," Oh. The butterflies certainly feel strongly about that.

Untangling yourself from his built frame is unpleasant, and a deeply irrational part of you wants to continue to cling to him. You opt to shove it down. "Hopefully," you respond with a coy smile, "I'd like that." And you truly would.

Seokmin watches you enter your Uber. He watches you until he can no longer see the car, and the gesture brings a smile to your face so wide that it feels a little foreign. If the driver hears your dreamy sigh, they choose not to comment on it. Thoughts of the actor with perhaps the brightest smile you've ever seen in your life fill your mind all the way to your apartment. Seokmin is still occupying your thoughts as you greet the on duty security and enter the, thankfully, empty elevator. More people don't need to see you practically levitating over this man. Over one date.

The smile that's been stinging your cheeks drops from your face when you notice a figure lingering at your front door. You can tell even from this distance that it's Joshua. Your steps grow more hurried, the clinking of your heels echoing through the empty hall. You suppose you're grateful that none of your neighbours are out. You're not entirely sure how this is going to go based on the anger bubbling up inside of you at the sight of your ex-boyfriend.

Joshua turns his head at the sound of your heels and he has the nerve to smile. To look relieved. You beat him to the punch for once instead of allowing the very tentative wall you've meticulously been building since the last time you found yourself in his too cool bed to crumble.

"What're you doing here?"

The bite in your voice takes even you by surprise but, you're too tired and a touch too fed up to really care about potentially offending him. Your arms crossing over your rapidly rising and falling chest as anger courses through your veins.

For all your inability to typically read him, the surprise on his face is clear as day. You don't think you've ever seen him look this unsure, a nervous hand carding through his short, dark hair. Oh. He must have cut it in the time you haven't found yourself on his doorstep.

"Hi uh," he stutters in a way deeply unlike him, "Can we talk inside?"

A voice that sounds very much like Seungkwan screams to send him away. To cuss him out where he stood in your hall and send him back to his sterile apartment that you never quite seemed to fit into.

However, you've never been good at saying no to him.

"Fine," you spit, walking to your front door and unlocking it while he stood by just hovering. Admitly, beneath the frustration and anger and annoyance at seeing him again after what has felt like ages, a miniscule part of you is curious why he's here.

Joshua walks in after you easily. The same way he used to when the two of you were together. The knowledge simultaneously dulls and sharpens the knife that twists in your gut but, you push it aside. Maybe an actual conversation is far overdue so, you can finally be free of him. Your coworker Wonwoo likes to joke that closure is just an invention of fiction but, just maybe this is your chance to find a fraction of it.

He shuts the door behind him while you turn on the lights. You want nothing more than to kick off your heels, pour yourself a glass of wine and regale Soonyoung and Seungkwan with all the details of your night. Joshua sure has a knack for ruining your plans.

"So, what do you want to talk about?" You ask once you've gathered all of courage. Leaning against the back of your couch, waiting for him to explain himself. Ignoring the way your throat burns seeing him in your home again.

"How was your date?" Are not the words you were expecting and they throw you utterly for a loop.

"What?" You blurt out sounding completely flabbergasted, "Is that why you're here? Fucking seriously?" The anger that's been simmer under the surface grows in ferocity once you begin to piece together why he's here. Why he's decided to reinsert himself into your life.

"You're here because you're fucking jealous?"

He has the nerve to look affronted by the assertion, "I'm not jealous-" he starts but, you're beyond frustrated and annoyed right now. Seungkwan would be proud.

"Joshua, please. Then why are you here? Why are you asking about my fucking date? Because you want an update on my life? You haven't reached out to me in fucking months!" You exclaim and you just hope you're not loud enough for any of your neighbours to hear. Though your concerns around that are minimal as the object of your anger walks towards you tentatively.

"I know," he sighs, continuing to run a tired hand through what you assume was his meticulously styled hair, "Honestly, I'm not sure why I'm here. I'm sorry. I just- I just miss you, I think."

Soonyoung has always been fond of calling Joshua an asshole over the course of your relationship and even after its end, but, in this moment, you realise Josh is not just an asshole, he's cruel.

His admission renders you speechless. You probably look comical just staring at him as his words sink into your brain.

'I just- I just miss you.'

He continues on his cruel streak, your carefully constructed walls falling to pieces with every syllable that leaves his full lips, "When you sent me that text, it just felt so awful. I felt awful and I think I realised just how much I missed you. Missed having you around. So I just got in my car and drove here," he breathes out, nearly tripping over his words in a rush to get them out, "I think I'm starting to understand why you came to my place all those months ago," he laughs with very little humour.

You think this is perhaps the most vulnerable you've ever seen him. More than your first date. The first time you told him you loved him. The first time you two slept together. All of those moments could not ever hope to hold a candle to the unadulterated emotions stirring in his doe eyes right now.

"You really suck, you know that?" You respond, the watery quality of your voice not going unnoticed, "Just when I thought I could let you go and move on, you just had to come back and do all of this. Say all of this," you mutter tiredly, shutting your eyes to just have a moment to yourself to think. To breathe.

The press of his forehead against your own is startling but, and you won't ever admit it to anyone else, comforting. It just feels so good to allow yourself to melt into him. The familiar scent of his too expensive cologne infiltrating your senses and muddling your brain further. Your hands grasp the front of his shirt, a shuddering breath leaving your lips.

"I know. I'm sorry," he whispers, and he's just so close, and you remember how easy it was to fall in love with him. How easy it is to continue to fall into him every chance you can.

So you do.

Everything, every voice that sounds like a friend screaming at you that this is a horrible, stupid idea, that you've been doing well, are all silenced when you press your lips to his in a kiss that is more hesitant than anything else. He kisses you back fiercer than you anticipate. Than you're used to from him. Swallowing your startled gasp like it's the first thing he's consumed in days and cupping your face with his large hands. His teeth nip at your bottom lip briefly when a whimper falls from your lips from how aggressive he's being.

"This is my favourite dress of yours," he mutters into your mouth between kisses, the tender way his thumbs brush your face juxtaposing with his desire to seemingly consume you whole, "I've always thought you looked gorgeous in it. So beautiful. Sexy," he continues, one of his hands drifting to palm at the thickest part of your exposed thigh. Arousal pools in the pit of your stomach. The fact that it's been months since you've been with him, been with anyone, fully hitting your body based on how quickly you find yourself becoming wet and your thighs rub against one another.

"My beautiful girl," he whispers, not giving you enough time to process his words before his mouth descends on you again. His hand kneading your thigh in a way that could be considered desperate if this was anyone other than Josh, shoving the material of your dress higher.

Once you remember you can touch him too, your hands find themselves in his now shorter hair, the inky locks filling the gaps between your fingers easily and the groan he presses into your lips worsens the ache you feel at the apex of your thighs. You want him. You don't think you'll ever stop wanting but, seeing him lose his composure for once has your panties sticking to you in a way that grows uncomfortable fast.

"Bedroom," you whisper, maybe part of you is worried that if either of you speak too loudly you'll burst this bubble you've found yourselves in. Josh just nods, tugging you to wobbly feet and pushing you towards your bedroom. His mouth never leaving yours while his hands touch and feel and grope and paw at every part of you they can reach. You try to not think too hard about how this reminds you of the first time he spent the night here and, how easily he seems to remember where your room is.

Fortunately, it doesn't take the two of you long to bump against your bedroom door. Fumbling with it longer than necessary while being lost in each other. A breathless giggle from you fills the quiet space when he curses while struggling to shut it behind him. Your laughter doesn't last long. His lips pressing scorching kisses to your throat as you settle onto your bed. It's like he can't even go a few seconds without touching you somehow. The thoughts prompts your heart to thunder in your chest.

"Can I take this off?" He asks against the hollow of your throat, impatiently tugging on the straps of your dress. You nod quickly, shuddering when he runs his teeth along your pulse and you feel him lightly grinding against your thigh.

"I want you to use your words, baby," baby. He really will be your demise. You can't remember the last time he called you that and, it only further fogs up your mind.

"Yes, Joshie, please," you whimper, your fingernails biting into the muscles of his biceps. The veins on his forearms coupled with the way the muscles flex is just so hot that it feels just the slightest bit unfair. Briefly, you wonder if he wore a short sleeve shirt because he knows how just a little bit stupid his arms make you.

He stills over you. His lidded eyes widening in surprise and, that forces you out of your lust-filled daze. He beats you to it before you can question his change of demeanour.

"You called me Joshie," is all he says in explanation at first, fingers ghosting over your shoulders. The barely there touch causing goosebumps to rise on your skin, "You haven't called me that since we broke up," he finishes and the raw emotion in his eyes renders you unable to respond for a few, long moments.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't-"

"It's okay. More than okay, actually," he cuts you off with a shake of his head, tossling his hair even more, "I didn't realise how much I missed hearing you call me that and Shua until now," he leans down, heavy eyes focusing on your well-kissed lips as his hands begin to slowly undress you, "Please keep calling me by those names."

The control he had slips out of his grasp as his hands tug down the straps of your form-fitting dress. While you'd much rather wind your arms around his broad and solid torso, you concede for these few minutes to help him undress you. Helping him free your arms from your straps before he tugs it off of your body in record time. Between how quickly you find yourself nearly naked and his words, you can't help yourself reaching for him and he happily complies. Nestling himself between your thighs properly while his hands squeeze your breasts over your bra.

"Shua," you whine into his mouth, your hips jolting up to his when you feel him pressed against you. Your hands tug him as close to you as humanly possible. Determined to fuse yourself to him and, based on the way his grip on you grows harsher, he doesn't seem to mind the idea all that much.

"God, I fucking missed you so much," he groans, nuzzling himself into your neck once more. Licking and kissing every millimetre of your skin he can, and every breath hitting you sends you further into madness. You suppose after months of not being touched, even his breath fanning against your skin is enough for goosebumps to rise to your skin and your thighs to clamp around his waist.

"Missed you too, Shua," you sigh, arching into him when his soft lips drift from your throat to sear kisses to the tops of your breasts. His hands reaching behind you to skillfully unclasp your bra and toss it somewhere onto your bedroom floor. Completely forgotten as he takes the opportunity to drink in the sight of your breasts moving with every greedy inhale and shuddering exhale you take.

"God, you're beautiful," he sighs in a way you'd almost describe as dreamy. His irises totally swallowed whole by his dilated pupils. The 'thank you' you intend to respond with is wiped from your mind when he latches onto one of your hardened nipples. His massive hand kneading your other breast to ensure it's not neglected. Your fingers weave into his hair, tugging on it with each tug of his plump lips and lick of tongue. His fingers tugging on your nipple enough to make you gasp from the embers of pain.

"Always so responsive," he chuckles throatily against your skin, pinching your nipple to prove his point. His eyes glinting at the way you moan and grind against his prominent length.

"Stop teasing," you whine, pouting at him. You're taken aback by the way his eyes soften considerably. Leaning up to press a heartbreaking gentle kiss to your more than likely bruised lips while his hand drifts towards your thighs. Swallowing your keens as his stupidly long fingers drag themselves over your panties. Coating them further in your wetness while you attempt to ground yourself by clawing at his broad shoulders.

"I'm sorry," he says and, based on the way he speaks, you're not entirely sure what he what he's apologising for.

His fingers shove your panties to the side and touch your slick folds directly before you're left with your thoughts for too long. "Joshie," you cry into him with every barely there brush of his digits. Your hips bucking into him when they circle your clit before continuing their leisure stroke of you.

"You're so fucking wet already," he groans, returning to your breasts to litter them with much harsher kisses. His fingers shallowly dipping into your entrance but never giving you the satisfaction you so deeply need. "All of this just from some kissing and playing with your tits, baby?" He asks, glancing up at you like you could realistically answer with his long fingers touching you and his breath fanning across your breasts. The amusement in his tone prickling your cheeks in embarrassment, more of your wetness leaking out of you and onto him.

"Or maybe you just get this wet for me." He muses out loud with a grin that's too smug for your liking. "Don't roll your eyes at me like that," he chuckles. However, the lightheartedness of the moment is cut short when he brings the hand that's been toying with your pussy up for you to see.

"I mean, it is true though. Isn't it?" He poses with a glance to gauge your reaction as his fingers spread, your arousal webbing them. You wouldn't be surprised if you were radiating enough heat from your face to rival the sun.

"Shua, that's embarrassing," you whine, avoiding his intense gaze, choosing instead to focus on an imaginary spot over his shoulder.

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about, baby," he mutters, resting his slick fingers on your bottom lip and focusing on them fully, "If anything, I'm flattered," he finishes with another arrogant uptick of his lips. It doesn't take much nudging for you to part your lips and for him to push his digits into his mouth. A quiet groan hitting your ears when you hum around them, your tongue licking up the taste of yourself eagerly.

"Fuck," he hisses, his thumb catching the drool that slips past your occupied mouth, "I should let you suck on my fingers more often. You look so pretty with them in your mouth," he mutters, grinding his hips against you as he memorises the sight of you gagging on his fingers and lapping at your essence. "Plus, I know how much you like them. You're not very subtle," he laughs, pulling them from your drooling lips and leaning away from you.

He doesn't give you much time to complain or miss his warmth over you, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of your soiled panties and tugging on them so frantically you're worried that he'll rip them. Luckily, they remain intact and soon join the heap of your clothing strawn all over your bedroom floor.

You don't typically have the presence of mind and time to feel self-conscious when you've been with Joshua. Too preoccupied with shutting your brain off and enjoying whatever time with him he lets you have. However, the way he pauses and his eyes leisurely scan your body now tempts you to hide in your pillows. Your heart trying its utmost to burst out of your chest and your blood roaring in your veins all you can hear.

He doesn't leave you to spiral for much longer. Tugging off his shirt that costs more than you think a plain, blue shirt has any right to. Your walls clench hard when your eyes land on the expanses of muscle, skin and arms that are available for you to fully consume.

"I want you to sit on my face," he says and his words are laden with so much unflinching desire. His eyes reflecting the same emotions and, you didn't think it was plausible for you to get any wetter yet, here you are.

"Shua, you don't have to-"

"I want to," he cuts you off with an air of finality. His gaze holding your own and waiting to see if you'd push this.

"I was such a fucking selfish asshole," he huffs, dragging the hand not covered in your spit down his handsome face, "I'm sorry."

You soften at that. Reaching for his hand and lacing your fingers with his, "It's okay."

"It's not," he argues, squeezing your hand before letting it go and settling beside you, "You deserve better than me, you know."

"I've been told," you respond dryly, trying your utmost to keep the images of your friends out of your mind. Basking in the warmth of his body.

"I'll make it up to you. Every chance I can. I promise I'll make it up to you. So, come here," he says as though his words don't close up your throat and cause your heart to hammer against your chest. When he looks at you like that, how could you ever dream of denying him?

Joshua's eyes never leave yours the entire time you move to settle yourself on his handsome face. The look in his eyes makes you feel like you're being set alight from the inside out, only finding a brief reprieve when his focus shifts from your face to your pussy. Large hands palming your thighs while his eyes drink you in.

"Come here," he commands, pulling you towards him. The strength in his hold causes your walls to flutter but, he doesn't force you. Giving you the chance to settle down on his face at your own pace. It doesn't take you much more prompting to do so. Carefully straddling him to make sure he can still breathe and that you're not smothering him. Joshua, however, doesn't care for your concerns. Firmly pulling you down onto him and latching onto your clit like a man starved. Not allowing you a moment to catch your breath. Long fingers biting into your ass as he guides you along his face.

"Shua," you cry, steadying yourself on your headboard while he continues to eager lap at your clit. Your thighs quiver around his head with every suck and lick he gives you, his hold helping you along his tongue. If you could find the strength to crack open your eyes, you would've noticed him watching you. His cock twitching in his boxers with every shuddering exhale and moan from your bruised lips.

The knot in the pit of your stomach tightens faster than you anticipate. Perhaps it's not being touched by anyone for so long or, perhaps it's simply Joshua that has your orgasm building up so quickly. From the way he groans into your drenched folds and his fingers dig into your so harshly that you wouldn't be surprised to find imprints on your ass later, he doesn't. If anything, your fragile state just motivates him. The vibrations from all of his own sounds of pleasure coupled with his unrelenting tongue made it so you really never stood a chance.

He continues to lap at you through one of your most intense orgasms. The grip you have on your headboard bites into your skin but, you can't bring yourselves to care when your walls spasm continously and your vision darkens around the edges. Overwhelmed tears spilling from you and streaking overheated face.

"Joshie," you whimper, your hips attempting to jolt away from him but, his strength is unrelenting. Keeping you firmly situated on his face while his focus shifts lower. A shudder running down your spine and goosebumps once again prickling your skin when he chooses to lap up your wetness directly from the source. The prods of his tongue and brushes of his nose on your clit make your stomach feels as though its tangled in a series of complicated knots.

The tears continue to fall freely as the overstimulation settles itself into your very bones. Your second release hits you like a runaway train. Your choked moans and cries of his name echoing so prominently throughout your bedroom, you're a little worried your neighbours might hear you. Joshua doesn't seem to care all that much. Cursing into your twitching entrance as more of your wetness seeps out of you and onto his awaiting tongue.

His hold on you eases up significantly after that, and with the near nonexistent energy you have and on still shaking thighs, you move off of him. Gracelessly plopping yourself down next to him in an attempt to regain sensation below your waist and come back from whatever dimension his mouth sent you to.

"Are you okay?"

Cracking a tired eye open to meet his heavy but, slightly concerned eyes proves to be a mistake. His hair is a complete and utter mess. Sticking up in every which direction in a way that just endearing him to you. However, the flush to his cheeks and sheen of your juices on the bottom half of his face quickly diminish any less carnal feelings you felt bubbling up for him. Despite nearly blacking out from how hard you came. Twice. Your body still opts to betray you. Your walls clenching around nothing at his dishevelled state and the outline clear as day in his dress pants.

"Yeah," you manage to croak out, cringing at the scratchy quality of your voice.

"Good," he mutters before kissing you. It's much gentler this time around. His tongue still snaking its way into your mouth and, the taste of yourself on it is enough for you to pull him closer to you. Tugging on his hair with every press of his plush lips and nip on your bottom lip. You're reminded that he's very much still hard and hasn't cum when the weight of him rests against your thigh. Just the idea of his cock pulls a wanton whine from you, which he happily swallows.

"Want you," you pant against him, trying your best not to allow yourself to completely lose yourself in his swirling, brown eyes.

"You have me, baby," he responds with more meaning than your fuzzy brain can process right now. His thumb caressing your cheek while he plants quick but, gentle kisses to your lips.

"No," you say, reaching one of your hands between your bodies and cupping him over his pants. He groans against you, his hips jerking against your hand, "I want you, Joshie," you emphasise with a squeeze of his girthy, long cock.

"I wanted tonight to be about you," the drop in octave of his voice only adds to the fresh wave of wetness leaking out of your pulsing hole. "Well, I want to feel you inside of me. That makes it still about me, doesn't it?"

You would laugh at the strangled 'fuck' that leaves his lips if you weren't at your wit's end right now. His kiss is much more aggressive this time around. Barely giving you any time or room to breathe or think while his hands fumble with the buttons and zipper of his pants. Tugging them and his boxers off at record speed and tossing them unceremoniously to join the mess on your bedroom floor. His lips remain attached to yours the entire time. Determined to make you think of nothing but, him.

You moan into each other when his bare cock drags along your drenched folds. His hips shallowly thrusting along you until he's slick with your wetness and his pre-cum. Every nudge of his fat head on your hypersensitive clit causes your lashes to flutter and your hips to meet him in his shallow movements.

"Shua, please," you whimper out when he drifts to kiss and lick your throat once again. His hips never ceasing their movements while his hands occupy themselves with your breasts. Tugging on your nipples while he nips into every bit of your skin his teeth can reach.

"You drive me fucking crazy," he groans, pulling away from you. He doesn't go too far. Gripping himself in his large hand and watching the way he runs along your slit. Drinking in the way you mewl and arch into him, chasing him for every bit of sensation he offers. "Your pussy's so pretty, baby. You'll look even better with my cock spliting you open, yeah?" He breathes, blown out pupils watching your face when he teases your fluttering entrance.

"Yes, yes, Joshie please. Please, just fuck me. I need it, I need you."

That prompts an especially harsh thrust against you, but he still doesn't sink into you, and you think you may just burst into tears from frustration. You'd forgotten his fondness for teasing and pushing you as close as possible to insanity.

"You really want me to fuck you that badly, baby?" The smirk on his face is equal parts irritating and attractive, "You'll even let me fuck you without a condom? My poor, desperate baby," he coos. Shifting his attention away from your face momentarily to watch the way his length teases your hole, his head just barely pushing into you.

"Fuck," you whimpers, gripping your poor sheets for dear life, "Yes, Joshie. Yes, I want you to fuck me raw. Please please pleas-" you choke on a moan when he slowly starts to sink into you. Your head kicks back and whimpers flow freely from your lips with every centimetre of himself he pushes into you. You probably should have let him stretch you out on his long, thick fingers because it takes you a great deal of adjusting to grow accustomed to his cock. His hands scorch your hips and shake with restraint. Determined to allow you ample room to get used to the feeling of him before he really starts to move.

It's difficult to know who moans the loudest when he's finally fully sheathed inside of you. The last time the two of you had forgone condoms was when you were still dating so, the feeling him completely bare sends your mind and body into a tailspin. Your fingernails digging into his back harder than you mean to but, it's not like you can help it when you can feel his cock molding you around him and kissing the deepest parts of you and, he hasn't even moved yet. Joshua, for his part, isn't fairing much better than you. Panting into the space between your neck and shoulder as he attempts to gather his bearings while your walls sporadically clench and unclench around him. It's a little embarrassing how close he already feels but, when your warm, wet walls cling to him, he doesn't think he can be faulted too much.

"Joshie, you ca-can move," you manage to utter with everything within you. Reaching for him and cupping his beautiful face in your hands. You don't want to examine the look in his eyes too closely right now. You don't think your heart can take it, and you fear you'll cry for an entire reason entirely if you do.

He nods. His first thrust is barely a movement at all, calling it shallow would be generous. However, after what has felt like a lifetime without any friction, that miniscule movement is still enough to set off sparks in the base of your spine and a gasp to be punched straight from your already struggling lungs. "I missed you," he grunts into your neck, the slight pain from where he runs over the bruises forming there with his mouth only causing you to clamp down even more around his thick cock.

"Missed you so fucking much. Only thought about you the whole time," he pants while he picks up his speed significantly, his hands keeping you in place while he sets the pace. Glancing up at you to watch the way your face twists with every drag of himself along your sinful walls and bite of your sensitive neck. "Did you miss me? Did you think of me? Think of this cock, sweetheart?"

"Yes," you cry out, trying to fill your greedy, burning lungs with any air you can while you lose yourself in pleasure, in him, "I only ever thought of you, Shua. Missed y-you so much," you moan because it's true. It was so hard staying away from him. From not running to your car and knocking on his door at concerning hours of the night. And now, as he fucks you to tears on his cock, you wonder why you even stayed away from him. From the look he gives you now that makes you feel like you're burning and, from the way his large hands that splay across your hips, you don't know why you ever thought of never seeing him again.

Your respective sounds of pleasure coupled with the obscene sounds of him thrusting into you ring out throughout your room. Bleary eyes drinking in the way his biceps flex and the sheen of sweat that's built up on his tan skin. Inky hair sticking to his damp forehead as he watches himself sink into you over and over and over again. Catching your lidded gaze and leaning down to kiss you, one of his hands cupping your jaw. Drifting downwards to ghost along your throat but, not applying pressure. Still, the thought itself is enough for you to keen against him and tightening around his cock.

"I love you."

Now that catches you totally off guard. Your eyes widening and your blood roaring in your ears. You blink up at him, your lips parting as your brain tries to process his words.

"Joshie," you sigh, lacing your fingers behind his neck and kissing the corner of his lips, "I love you too. I'll always love you," you whisper, not wanting to scare him away and feeling far too much far too quickly that you don't think you could speak louder even if you wanted to.

"Fuck," he grits out, pressing your thighs against your chest and tugging you into another searing, messy lip lock. It's more teeth and spit than an actual kiss but, you're not complaining. "You're mine, right? That other guy could never make you feel the way I do, right baby?" He groans against your mouth. You weren't expecting him to bring up Seokmin now of all times, while his cock bullies the sensitive parts of your walls and you're pretty sure another orgasm is building.

"Joshie-"

"I want you to say it," he mutters, his hand slotting itself between your sweaty, scorching bodies until his fingers find your clit. Not allowing you a chance to adjust, rubbing quick circles into while he continues to split you open on his cock, "that you're mine. That he'd never make you feel this way. Feel this good."

"I'm y-yours, Joshie," you whimper, his body keeping you in place so you have no choice but to allow yourself to be fucked dumb by him. That all too familiar knot tightening and tightening with every brush and stroke, "I'm yours. Always yours. Only yours," you cry out when he bites down on your neck.

You feel him cum before the warning tumbles out of his mouth. His cock pushed into you as deeply as it'll go and it throbs. It throbs and keeps throbbing with every rope of his cum that fills your waiting walls. Drawn out moans burned into your skin while his fingers clumsy continue to rub into you. It's no surprise then, with his warm cum already beginning to leak out of you, that your third orgasm hits you. This one isn't as intense as the previous two but, it does still causes you to squirm underneath him. Slick walls spasming around his softening cock while your combined orgasms trickle out of you and onto your poor sheets.

"Shua, my thighs hurt," you wheeze, tapping his arm. He mutters a tired 'sorry' before slowly pulling out of you and getting off of you. He does take a long moment to sear the image of his cum dribbling out of you into his mind. Shaking his head, he lies down beside you and tugs you to his broad chest. Cuddling with Joshua joins the litany of activities and behaviours you're not used to from him. However, he's so warm and you're so, so tired. It's just so easy to allow yourself to be lulled to sleep by his heartbeat and his hand playing with your hair. It doesn't take long for him to join you in the land of slumber after your eyes flutter shut.

Seokmin💛: Hey, just wanted to let you know I got home! I really did have a great time. I hope we can go out on another date soon :)

Feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

Do not repost, edit, copy and/or translate my work. I do not give you my permission to do so, nor will you ever receive it.

[utterlyinevitable]

For the Directors Cut - something, everything, or anything about For All the Lies.

And if you don't mind saying, why didn't he keep in touch?

That fic still breaks my heart whenever I think about it ❤️

Ruby, you have no idea how excited I was to get this about FATL 😄 I am gonna re-read and will tell you anything and everything you’d ever wanna know 💗

Starting with the idea... 

It was a dream scene I had with someone I used to know my muse - the two of us meeting after all this time, harboring old unresolved feelings but coming to terms with how life panned out. Some time’s you’re just not meant to be with someone and there’s a greater happiness out there to grasp. 

So I just realized that the first line makes no sense and I should probably change it 😂

I did initially want Becca to be engaged to Bryce but thought better of it. She left her life at Edenbrook behind for a job far away, being with Bryce meant that there was always a possibility for her to come back - an teeny tiny opening where she could potentially fall back into Ethan. The finality of her fiancé being some unknown guy just felt right. Someone whom no one knew existed could finally, actually give her everything she’s always wanted and never knew she needed. 

In my mind Becca accepted the fellowship somewhere between the Gwyneth case and the Senator incident (which ultimately never happened in this timeline). Her and Ethan were getting closer, though for every time he kissed her he’d then be super strict and assert his position as her boss. Very waffley and she was not here for that after 1.5 years. With Edenbrook going under, Ethan being mad at her for turning the team for-profit, and the hospital cutting jobs, Becca did the one thing she knew she could do: used her clout as Dr. Banerji’s savior to secure a fellowship abroad and keep some other Edenbrook doctor off the budgetary chopping block. What really was left in Boston for her anyway? 

She and Ethan had one last night together before she made her decision. He was completely unaware she had even applied, treating the night like any other with them having takeout in his office looking over their respective files. He pushed her away. They had a little fight. The next morning she accepted the position. Ethan found out she was leaving in an email she sent to Dr. Banerji and CC’d him on. He responded with a simple: “Congratulations. I have every faith you will make an invaluable addition to their team.” 

Becca left and got a new local phone number. He could have emailed her personal account, but a part of him was definitely hurt. If she wanted to hear from him she would reach out, he told himself whenever she crept into his thoughts. For Becca it was easier to let go, he’d broken her heart one too many times. And just like him she thought if he wanted her in his life he would have reached out - he did know what new hospital she’d be working at. 

It was Ethan’s turn to feel abandoned, just like he did to her. Except this time she wasn’t coming back. There wouldn’t be a reset button or a chance to do things over in two months when she returned from her sabbatical. His pride took a serious hit. But he still kept tabs on his protégé - he had a google alert with her name. Any time it pinged with a new published work of hers, he was always the first one to order a copy. He missed her but he was so proud of the brilliant doctor he knew she would become.   

Having them meet at Harper’s engagement party was a happy accident, though now I really like how she’s shown how a workaholic can change their habits and find love and happiness. I wanted a place where Bryce and Ethan would definitely be dressed up in suits but nothing involving medicine. It’s also morbidly funny to have Ethan be witness to both the incredible women he lost move on and find happiness in their lives without him. He’s kinda stuck in his small box of ethics and morals. Which as we all know got in the way of his relationships. 

Aurora’s purpose here was to subtly reassert that Bryce is a friend and not fiancé. 

I’d like to think that Ethan felt Becca’s presence the moment she entered the gates on Bryce’s arm. Like even though he was at the back of the garden yards and yards away, somehow he could smell her perfume swirling in the air around him. Unsettling and alert. Then his eyes fell on her and he couldn’t believe it. He inched closer and closer until luckily she was alone and he could muster the courage to face his biggest regret. 

God I wish I could paint the picture that’s in my head of the two of them when she turns around and acknowledges him. It breaks my heart. All that yearning and pent up anxiety and months and months of tears packaged in the faint acknowledgement of “Dr. Ramsey”. Everything just fades away when their eyes lock onto one another and it’s like no time had passed - one week, two years, three decades - none of that mattered in the other’s presence. There’s this underlying feeling that if he was just brave enough to pick up where they left off and saw sorry that she’d forgive him and run away with him. That is, if he had the courage to do that before she committed to another man four months ago. A part of Becca always held onto the idea that he’d find her again. But the moment - no, a about four weeks after her fiancé proposed she finally put her childish crush in the past for good. Where it belonged. 

I like to think that Ethan and Becca were friends. So old times for them would be dancing at a highbrow event he was forced to attend and invited her just because he liked the company, he’d drive her to a shopping center after work sometimes when she needed to get a lot of items she couldn’t carry on the subway, or window shopping during their coffee breaks. 

They were always respectful of the other’s boundaries for the most part. Except when eyes and hands would linger a little longer than they should have. Except for when innocent lip biting became too enticing. Except when they drank a little more than usual and just enough to act on their emotions. Except for when they were at his apartment, and when they recalled the few times they gave in intern year. 

Becca’s hand at his chest is always over his heart. Ever since Miami she’s held his heart in the palm of her hand. Then there’s also the practicality of it being there to push him away if she needed to. 

Ethan knew she was engaged. He heard it through the Edenbrook grapevine and then saw it on Pictagram to confirm the rumor - he hadn’t logged into the damn app since he used it to make sure she landed in her new homeland safely. But having her in his arms now and knowing this fact... it was all so confusing. He couldn’t believe it. One of these had to be fake. He hoped it was the ring on her finger. 

As he twirled it back and forth, both of them were taken aback and just a little guilty. 

She mindfully thanked her fiance for once again knowing her and her needs better than she herself did.  

This is the other bit I put in just to hone that Bryce is not Mr. Becca. 

I went through so many things of what Ethan could say to move the conversation along and literally nothing felt right. As much as I wanted them to jump in and talk about what happened in their absence, the awkward tension between them had to reign supreme. There is no reason these two near-lovers should have been comfortable enough to bare all their insecurities, especially when they still harbor feelings for one another. Though they try to push past it with banter. 

The ghostly smile I imagine on Ethan’s lips when he tells her he read her book. It breaks and warms my heart. And Becca completely not knowing that he would read it? It’s like she never really knew him at all. Of course he was going to keep track of her career no matter what happened in their personal life. This stemmed from the idea that there are people in my life that I’m not close with and haven’t spoken to in years, but I still keep track of them and support their businesses and endeavors. I’m proud to have them as someone I used to know. 

Becca was going to ask him How he was which is why she let him continue his question.  

In this moment Becca recalled every single thing that kept her from reaching out. If she reached out she’d be letting him back in. She’d be letting him break her once more. If Ethan didn’t date her while they were in the same city, there was no way they could have a future if they’re an ocean apart indefinitely. I think this “Ethan...” is more exasperation compared to the later one. 

These two idiots should have confessed how much they love one another ages ago. That way they probably wouldn’t be in this position and she wouldn’t have left to ‘reset’.  

The hand motions between them is everything. Ethan squeezing hers to keep her close, her squeezing back to pull an answer from him. Him going slack in her arms and having to take a step back like the admission knocked the wind out of him. Her moving back into place like a magnet, her hand going back to his heart. His hand going over hers, letting his fingers fall through the cracks. Her immediately balling her hand up so he couldn’t linger in the space she left for him anymore - effectively finally shutting him out and not holding him in her palm anymore. Not holding onto him anymore. 

And then there’s the last three bittersweet lines that kill me every single time. 

That’s all we ever want for someone we care about - for them to be happy, right? If it couldn’t be him because he threw away every single chance she served up to him on a silver platter then Ethan guesses he’s glad it’s a man who know what kind of ring she needed and put a smile on her face. 

[I think I lost the plot of this commentary thing oops] 

[muffindaddystyles]

(CLANDESTINE CHAPTER TWO)

ᗩᑭᑭOIᑎTᗰᗴᑎT, ᖇᗴᗪ ᐯᗴᒪᐯᗴT ᗩᑎᗪ ᗰᑌᖴᖴIᑎՏ

𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒚

Rhythmically mellifluous waves of notes echoes after bouncing back from anile theatre's walls, the trill getting softer the more I firmly place my chin over the tail piece.

Eye lids slip shutting at the flurries of heart chasing the last cadences, pinky shivering as the middle and ring finger pushes the string down while the bow touches through the strings simultaneously producing the last chords.

Feels like a voyage over a baby leaf that's leading me through a pallid wind.

My chest heaving vigorously and lifting my jaw from the violin my head snapped in the direction of loud claps flowing. After a hectic performance the seats went empty and instead of going backstage I tried to play a melody for myself.

I was so lost finding my way through strings that didn't even noticed when Azi came. He's the owner of this old hideously beautiful theatre, his love for arts has this place still running without compliance knowing else it would have left baren just like the other popular theatres they shut years ago.

"Well done Harry, people seemed to love your performance last night and today." A smile quenching from my inners causing the bottom lip to tuck in between my teeth.

A feeling like no other spiralling around my ribcages, this's all I ever wanted.

"They were properly soused into your magic and we know what that means, shit loads of money." I remained quite putting my violin and bow aside while he spoke with a tobacco cigar rolled in between his lips.

I never wanted to play for money but nor do I've problem if we're getting it because half of the people in theater needs it. They deserve it.

It's not their fault they've to die in return of loving the devotedness that's gifted naturally.

Their talent and adroitness is the only thing keeping them in this world even though they've to remain veiled from the ordinary people.

Azi drags the stash of money on the table in my direction causing me to shake my head in refusal, "you know that I don't need this money. Save it for the renovation of theatre before we all get buried deep under it." He laughs lungs rumbling from his old age.

For God's sake the ceilings are about to cripple and chandelier might bonk my head one day.

"Or' maybe double pay our ballerina she was prepossesing last night." The twitch of his wrinkles at the corners of eyes smoothed down sadly and he sighed loudly piercing a hole in my stomach.

Anticipation wrapped around my head shoving me into the sea of worry where I'm finding it difficult to process, "what happened-" my words choking in my windpipes when he cuts me off revealing the horror information.

"She was abducted last night, her body was found shot near the suburb of where she lives." Everything's feeling claustrophobic around me and I keep on gawking him in astonished dread.

She was one hell of the great dancers, the only ballerina of our theatre. She didn't not deserved this; fuck it nobody does. I refuse to believe.

Fuck this government. Fuck this stupid world.

Gripping my hair from roots I looked him straight in the eyes, "Tell me if her family needs any help." Then the realization dawned upon me like a heavy dust she never had a family. This theatre, her skills were her only family.

"Harry my boy listen I know you'll take it as a hard toll but believe me we can't do anything for what has happened, go home have a rest you've a performance in the coming month." I was taken aback when he hugged me assuring me like a father would do, not utterly sure how to respond to interactions like these I raised my hands several times only to let them fall back.

Memories of her on tips dancing beautifully on the stage displaying infront of me as I stored my violin into case putting it aside.

We weren't close. But the few times we had exchange of words in the middle of lunch breaks and her full concentration on my foolish jokes was worth than any friendships I ever had; which I unfortunately never had.

Without even noticing the whispers let out of my chest, "I'll miss ya." Never thought you could yearn to have a single glimpse of people last time even though they were barely in your life.

I didn't changed into comfortable clothes letting the flashy suit stick to my skin, so the weigh of it will keep on making me realize that the world has no place for us.

A sacrifice for living praise.

The alley outside's pitch dark with the sun roguishly trying to dawn from the horizon.

Azi Theatre's situated at the most lifeless spot in the city possible, you've to walk through several hidden allies to reach there.

While, walking past the streets and avoiding to ruin my trousers by splashing my boots into puddle my brain havoced with unnecessary thoughts.

Thousand of faces with erastz beauty passing in mili seconds on these vast fulgurant billboards their mocks appearing like arrows to my already wounded guts; though it's all in my head it's still crawling under my skin.

A peek of cognisance from the day she made me ate her red velvet muffins dizzied around in my mind painting sorrow over me.

Even though I protested with my nonsical excuses she won ending up handing me one of her perfectly shaped muffin on my palm with a huge grin.

Just like that alot of people's smiles in my life petered out in the lost pocket of my mind.

In the littlest remembrance of her I made route to the small bakery situated two blocks away from the building I live in. The city's sleeping the only thing's shop's boards blinking and hazy bakeries showing through the thick fog.

It's open twenty four hours seven. The sky tweeked with ribbons of brume and the digital clock showed 5:00 sharp in the early dawn the large glass windows fogy from weather. The counter lady's wrapped into a comfy blanket trying not to fall asleep.

The bell chimed startling the cute old lady when I stepped inside passing by the wooden counter, "uhh..hi sorry to disturb. I'll look in myself." She nodded slumping back into her seat soon about to knock off.

Strolling in between the squeezy aisles my eyes roamed over empty refrigerators ceasing to the one at the far corner.

There in the transparent domed box are four cherry-red muffins attracting every dull view of bakery towards themselves. They're perfectly shaped and snow-flaked into red coconut shudders but failed to water my mouth.

I've no appetite to eat them. Her's used to be baked into undescribeable funny shapes but atleast I had a company while chomping them in one bite.

A reel of same memory binging and before it could permanently imprint in my brain I cleared my throat raising my pointy finger as a habit, "I'll have these!"

We said in a unison. Hold on. We? Am I that exhausted that I've started to hallucinate.

My head snapshoting towards the person from whom the feminine voice billowed in the dense warm air.

Resplendent. Florid and kaleidoscopic were the first words that striked my confused mind when my vision raked from the faux suede ankle boots richer in pigment than the red velvet muffins resting inside the refrigerator; then straight towards to meet their eyes.

Her gaze projecting warmth in this wimtertide and out of curiosity I met her eyes to recognize their colour.

Golden syrup. They're like the glassed honey pool that has squeezed the bee in the syrup lake as if it's greed for honey became it's trap, hazel speckles caged inside the rim of irises flickering with her slightest of eye movement.

We both keeps on looking at eachother the morning peace surrounding us too unsure how to break the spell.

She's wearing a cerise peach long trench wool coat a sweet rose enamel pin attached to where her heart is. Her nose and ears pink from the cold outside, but her lips plump from under the translucent violaceous bubble gum coloured gloss.

Burnette tresses of hair loose till her covered shoulders, the peach tealed beanie intact on her head.

The women standing infront of me is in abstract contrast to the pastels of the bakery and the luster of gray buildings out of these bakery walls.

The pastelish hues still prominent in her and crimson peaked up my neck at the fact that she caught me intriguing her by my peer.

Boldly her eyes remained fixated at my suit that's very exotic for strolling into a bakery. She might think so I'm a bellend idiot.

The cashier lady came to us yawning placing her hands on her hips done with two strangers just looking at eachother but she doesn't know that both of them are inquisitive of what the other is wearing this early where anybody's barely awake.

"We've the only box, decide it quick kiddos that who'll get it." The lady yawned for fiftieth time taking the box of muffins out of refrigerator.

"I came here first and I was the first one to ask." I frowned for an obvious reason and the lady was about to give me the box when a honeyed voice again melted in my ears.

Now I really wanna hear her talk for a long time, "but I pointed at it first!" She whines softly jutting her lower lip.

"But vocalisation matters the most." I quipped arching my brow at her and she glared me but her beatific personality radiating naturally from her is breaking the bitter demeanour she's trying to pull towards me.

"Kay. We can leave it upto the rock, paper and siscorss." She smirks mishveously raising her brows several times in a challenge.

Her tongue poking out from her glossy lips with her one leg straight and other bended perpendicular she placed her on foot over another balancing with only one leg like a flamingo.

The cute small lady groaned, "are you really gonna do this?" Our eyes widening and chuckles spiraling when we once again we said 'yep.' In unison.

She was ready to launch her hand in a paper and mine was stone so I quickly interrupted looking down at her legs, "why are you standin' like a swan?" Her eyes slitting into a squint and lips shrinking into a pout.

Tilting her chin towards me and standing in the same position as before just the difference now's that her hands are on her hips to convey the offend.

She ruched her lower lip inside her mouth to stop from giving a smile, so she's a buoyant person...

"Because maybe I am?" And she doesn't have simple answers to straight questions. Our fists still raised into air and the cashier lady hissed this time ready to throw hands.

"You kids are worse than my grandchildren!" She gasped comically at the words of short lady.

"That's very mean of you..." I'm clearly surprised that she isn't one bit influenced by lady's sharpness instead she's further engaging in a conversation that will result in the loss of time for all of us. "...and your daughter wouldn't be very happy to know."

"Kay. Back to where we left." She quickly turned her head towards me her complete concentration struck over me making my stomach go fluttery and funny.

"Uhm..yes- rock, paper, siscorss!" I never thought I'd play a game with some stranger who's looking so cozy and comfy in the early dew, for some muffins in the middle of empty bakery when I scarcely interact with people.

"Yes! I won." I punched the air when my siscorss cut her paper and her jaw went slack for a moment.

What the fuck you're doing Styles!?

Out of shyness and awkwardness I abruptly combed back my curls rubbing my hand down the nape of my neck not meeting her eyes.

The lady handed me the box with a boring expression while Hers stayed ticked to it, "anyway I don't even like red-velvet muffins." Yeah. Grapes are sour when fox can't get it.

She was about to walk away near to step out of shop. I want to call her but don't know her name; so out of sheer rampage I blurted out the only word that the department of my brain could manage at the time.

"Swan!" She halted in her tracks torso turning and with her chin atop of her shoulder she looked back at me smiling coyly.

"Yes. Sparkly?" She's probably calling me that because of my glittery black suit and I'm sure my ribcages did something at the name. Getting made fun of doesn't sound very good; but it is at the time.

Today's an odd day.

"Um..we can share if you want to?" Her grin etching to the corner of her lips and she jumped excitedly clasping her hands together,"Really!?"

A timid smile crawling over my features watching her get delighted at the littlest of fact. "Yes. There are two pair of muffins we both can have one pair if you like to?" I told her and she bobs her head while going towards the cash counter, patting the counter with a huge grin indicating me to put the box down.

"Your total's $8.25." We both payed half of the total price and I shoved my hands into my trouser's pockets scrutinizing my surrounding while the annoyed cashier lady packed two muffins separately for one of us.

And she rummaged through her wallet which has alot of ebullient key-chains hanging from it, who's this girl?

Why I've never seen her here before? and I've never seen a person this cheerful in the crowd of prosaic people of city.

The lady handed us our respective delights with a roll of eyes and I was the first one to take mine and quickly sprinted out of there, because I didn't know what else to do.

A whiff of pungent vanilla, mulberry pomegranate sprouting with cocoa made it's way in my nostrils when I passed beside her. Her fragrance's divergent.

You know a scent that addictively clouds your senses but it's so rare you never get to smell it again; but if out of nowhere you get to it brings back nostalgia for no reason, she smelled like that.

When I glanced back the two women were still watching my weirdness in amusement through the glass windows of bakery.

It appeared like her rose enamel pin winked at me from far.

Mick was tangled up into cassette tapes when I stepped inside my flat, the tiny bugger he is jumped atop me straddling me to the floor.

"You're lookin' like a disco ball. No need to be so proud." Instead he gave a long slicky lick to my cheek woofing at me.

He's being too cheeky but it wouldn't last long when I'll take him for a checkup. He fucking envy his doc. I'm already sensing sympathy seeking whining from him, happens every year.

Shaking my head I grunted skiding from underneath him but he's fast and climbed up in my lap while I struggled to open the box.

The minute red hilly muffins were infront of me it reminded me of honey the ooze of golden, treacle eyes. Her eyes.

Shit. It's getting hard to get rid of her delicate image that's playing like an aesthetic reel in the back of my mind.

I was jerked into reality when Mick lurched greedily eating the delcious muffin from my hand in one bite, leaving his slickness at the tip of my fingers. Before he could attack my muffin too I quickly grabbed it.

"Mick you wouldn't believe what happened today!?" I spoke in an animated voice scratching his sweet spot under his ear my mouth full of red coconut and he looked up at me with his sick puppy eyes.

"We wouldn't have been able to eat these if I wouldn't have won from...." I stuttered pondering over the fact that the nameless peachy coat girl's too stubborn and wouldn't leave my fuzzy thoughts alone, "...from swan."

Mick just barked at me going to his sleeping pillow and I practically rubbed my eyes with the heels of my palms to bring myself to some consciousness from that bloody bakery fantasy.

_

When the proper morning hit I made myself breakfast and the longer I stared it the more it impeded my appetite.

With one hand offering Mick treats to deceive him into the idea that I'll take him to the park for a walk which instead will end up in a clinic's room and other hand diligent in searching word puzzles over the newspaper my jaw worked to chew the sandwich.

Throwing a sweater over my head and slipping into white washed jeans quickly I got ready to take Mick with me.

I had to scoop Mick up in my arms when he sprawled onto footpath of veterinary clinic the second he realized what was about to happen.

The kid leaning against the wall giggled loudly watching me practically drag my dog across the floor because he's too socially akward, fucking wow.

The waiting area's already full of pupils alongside their pets, someone stood up from the last bench and taking the advantage of opportunity I strided towards it sitting at it's edge.

Fifteen minutes passed since I've been caressing and comforting my scared bud, tucking his crown under my chin to make him at rest.

There's loud raucous noise when the elevator doors to the floor we're at opened wide gaining everyone's attention and when the person in tizzy strided inside the corridor I had to look at her twice.

What the fuck she's doing here? She never owned a pet and the one for whom she'll get this worried about.

Lyida's exactly same, her eyes bright as always and she has become more striking from when she was with me.

But she's not mine now, she never was.

She lurched over the receptionist with the box in her hand and distress of having to meet her eyes creeped inside me. The girl beside me threw daggers at me when I stood up hastily causing the whole bench to shake. I apologised for the disturbance.

My hands fumbled with the knob of nearest door right beside me and I had to shush Mick sternly when he kept on whining.

Heavy puff of breaths escaping my lungs when I stumbled inside some empty doctor's room shutting the door behind me, back meeting against the wooden plank of door, cold sweat breaking under the nape of my neck and I blinked several times taking in my surrounding.

I'm a weak son of a bitch.

It's fuckin' gruelling to be in her presence. It's hellish to meet her sympathetic gaze for me and I'm a bastard who's pathetic as hell.

I have to be away, I've to go right now. Trotting towards the large window panes I uncliped them stepping outside the shared balcony of room.

There's a drain pipe so I can climb it down to the ground and get the hell away from here.

Maybe, Mick was right it was a bad day and idea to come here.

Adjusting Mick inside my armpit I threw my one leg over the rail and then the second, my breath wavering as I gripped the rail tighter taking baby steps towards the plastic pipe.

The smack of air stinging my eyes while the cars are being parked infront of me at the parking lot.

A delucet voice clamoured from inside startling me to death and Mick barked lowly in reaction, "Whoops! Sorry to interrupt your suicidal mission." I turned my head steadily to see who's it even though I can comprehend the sherbet similarity.

Her voice has melted like a hot maroon stamp into my ears since the dawn hour and with the corner of my eyes I watched her leaning against the stretcher.

"But let me tell you Sparkly this height would cause you nothing but two broken ribs, one fractured thigh and you might loose your brain memory. No more than that." I gawked her appalled while she remained peacific arms folded infront of her chest, into different cardinal clothes now.

Again a replete splitness to what every other person's wearing outside.

Even though my intentions are nothing like that but saying this to someone who's about to take their life doesn't seem very pleasing.

I was about to speak something into my defence that she misinterpreted things but she cut me off popping her chewing gum and capturing the ropes of sticked bubble around her lips with her teeth.

Fuck.

.

A/n; Please lovies. Reblog it and gimme feedback alot of kisses!

[shawnpetermuffins]

I Miss You

A/n: I hope this is good because I put this off for so long wanting to do it justice. And this is based very loosely off I Miss you.

Summary: you two broke up recently, and it's not sitting well with Shawn, even though he's the reason you broke up.

Requested by @it-isnt-in-myy-blood: Hi, I recently listened to the song 'I Miss you' (Clean Bandit, Julia Michaels). Maybe you could write a fic based on the song, angsty but with a fluff ending? Thank you... ❤️

***

Kinda_yourname

2,158 likes

Kinda_yourname Cabo sunsets >>>> anything else

•

It may have only been a week, but I'm missing it here! 😭

Comments have been disabled.

I shut my phone off and toss it to the end of the bed. I should have been with her on that trip, but tour got in the way. I got in the way. It's crazy to think that if you asked me three weeks ago, I would have said that my girlfriend and I could overcome any obstacle thrown at us. But ask me again a week later, and I would tell you I was wrong. That being away from her for months at a time was too much for me and I broke it off because I thought it would be what was best for both of us in the end.

Now ask me if I still believe that.

I don't.

I haven't told anyone about us yet. I mean, everyone probably suspects because there haven't been Amy preshow FaceTime calls for good luck, and I'm not texting like a madman during dinner or when we're on our way to the venues. And I know she hasn't said anything to anyone either. How? Because for one, she hasn't blocked me on any social media - I know, I've checked at least ten times just within the last two hours. And two, she hasn't deleted the three pictures of us that she has on her Instagram. They're still there for everyone to see, me included.

Now my fingers are hovering over the keyboard and I'm staring at her name on my phone which is still My Love 😍, and I'll probably never change it. Because she is my love, and to strip her of that title because I'm an idiot just isn't fair.

Hey... I miss you

I type and backspace and type and backspace at least ten times. Because I want to text her. I want so badly to text her, but what if she doesn't want to hear from me? I wouldn't blame her if she didn't want to. I was the worst. Breaking up with her over the phone, no less because I was hurting being away from her. Never once did it occur to me that, yeah, she was hurting too. Or maybe she's with someone else. Maybe she's found somebody new. I want her happy, sure. But I selfishly still want to be the one that makes her happy.

Y/n I miss you.

I delete it one last time and open my photo gallery. I have an album saved for photos of us. Photos that I never got to post because she wanted to keep us as private as possible without being a secret. Which is why both of us only have 3 photos of each other on our Instagram. One for our six months, a year, and a year and a half. Two more months and we would have had a fourth picture.

I'm swiping through the photos landing on one I took of her when we were flying back to Canada after our first trip together. We're on a private jet because this was before we went public with our relationship. Andrew made sure that we weren't seen together in the airport or anything. She's sitting in the seat across the aisle from me, legs up to her chest, earphones in, head resting on her knees as she smiles brightly at me. There's another one of us curled up together on this tiny chair in a green room in the UK that Andrew sent me. She's literally curled into a ball on my lap, sleeping peacefully and my legs are spread in front of me, arms wrapped tightly around her body, head resting against the back of the seat.

The next one Brian took. We were at my place for a very impromptu new years party. It was just gonna be me and y/n, but she insisted we invite the guys over. And we did. It was one of the best nights of my life. We're watching the ball drop, with her in my lap, arm around my shoulder. I have one arm behind her back, the other on her thigh. I think Brian knew something was going to happen because at ten seconds to midnight he pulled his phone out and captured out first new years kiss. She's holding my face and I'm practically leaning her back against the couch. It looks like I'm seconds away from crawling on top of her, and it be honest, I probably was. She's just too perfect for me to resist.

Then there's one that Josiah took of us just a few months ago at the studio house. I had y/n on the kitchen counter, she was in these jean shorts that I loved her in and a button up that she'd stolen from my suitcase. Not that I was complaining. It looked far better on her than it did on me. I stood between her legs, my hands on her sides, slipping under the shirt a little bit, leaning her hips exposed. Not that either of u cared with her fingers threaded in my hair as casually as they were. My face is blocked by her figure, but there isn't a doubt in my mind that I was smiling entirely too wide standing between her legs.

The video that follows knocks the breath out of me. She giggling like crazy, but the camera isn't on her, it's on me. On my back, more specifically. She laughs even more when I wince at the feel of her fingers on my red, raw skin that is now home of her fingernail scratches.

"Baby? What happened to your back?" She asked, amused.

"Don't know," I said, turning to face her, my cheeks still holding a slight blush. "But I think the real question is, what happened to your neck, missy?" I pluck the phone from her hands and turn the camera to her where she's trying to cover her face. I manage, however, to take her hands in my free one and the camera focuses on the flourishing bruises that litter her beautiful neck, my favorite place to rest my head.

I close my eyes, the memory of that night filling my mind. Watching her come down from her high, my face still buried between her legs. The weight and cold touch of her hands as she pulled me up to her, into her, because she needed me closer. I can hear myself murmuring the words 'I love you' all over her skin, still remember the way her back arched when I hit the right spot again and again and her finger ran down my back over and over, once more and she probably would have drawn blood. And I may not be home, but I can smell her on the sheets, that constant aroma of warm vanilla penetrating my nostrils. God, do I miss her.

I'm only making it worse for myself by doing this, I know that. But I should feel bad. I lost the greatest thing in my life and I didn't need to. So I got back to our messages, but instead of going to type a new one, I scroll through, reading through our old texts. There's countless paragraphs of us professing our love for each other. Lots of random pictures sent, most from my side. There's conversations about getting a home together, and a dog. And her telling me how much she loves my family and me telling her how much they love her, how much they ask about her. It's all hitting me too hard right now.

And it doesn't help that im literally sobbing at 2 in the morning, in Paris. The city of love. The place she told me was her favorite trip to ever take with me. Where we stood atop the eiffle tower and I gave her a promise ring, a ring that said I would love her and keep her forever. A promise ring that was now probably in the ocean in Cabo because I tore us apart so easily.

I sit up suddenly, struggling to catch my breath. It takes a few minutes, but I'm able to pull myself out of this empty bed that would only be comfortable with y/n laying next to me. I'm scrambling through the room, picking up the pair of jeans I threw off my body earlier and slipping back into them. I find a torn work out shirt in the bottom of my back and push my head and arms through before throwing my youth hoodie over my already overheated upper body. My passport is sitting in my guitar case, and I grab both things without a second thought. My suitcase trailing behind me.

It's difficult booking a flight and carrying a suitcase and guitar all at once, but I get along just well enough and adjust myself in the lobby while I wait for a taxi. I don't text Andrew until I've made it to the airport and am in my seat on the plane, ready for take off.

Emergency... had to fly home. Promise to make it back in time for the Paris show.

And I turn my phone off before he can text or call me back. Because there isn't a damn thing that he could say that would keep me there in a city that's meant for lovers, when my lover is across the world instead of laying in my arms the way she should be.

I know I shouldn't be doing this. I know there is someone out there who is better for her. Someone who isn't constantly on the move. Someone who can come home to her every night and help her make dinner. Someone who can cuddle her until she falls asleep when she's having a particularly bad day. I know there's someone who can do those things.

But I also know that he won't love her the way I do. He won't know all the little things that I do. Like how she only uses a blue toothbrush. Always has. And he won't notice the tiny scar that she has on her right middle finger from when we tried to make dinner together one night and she cut herself. He probably won't know that she wakes up at 3:34 every single night, because she hasn't been able to sleep fully and soundly through the night since she was four years old. And he'll mess up the way she likes her tea, using tea bags instead of leaves. (She like the herbal taste that you get when you use the leaves. And she likes when you do two scoops of them, and two scoops of sugar, but just cane sugar, the rock sugar makes it too earthy. And of course, she drinks it on ice because she hates burning her tongue with hot drinks.)

I'm thinking way too much as I get off the plane, reluctantly turning my phone back on only to see texts from just about everyone I know. They're all asking where I am, but I ignore them, because what I'm about to do is far more important than anything they threaten me with. I have to make things right.

Standing in front of this door that I've stood in front of hundreds of times should make me feel at ease. Remembering all the times I had her pressed against the other side of the door because I just couldn't wait to have her all to myself. But if anything, it's making me more nervous. So nervous that my hands are shaking, palms sweating, my breathing is jagged and I know if I don't knock right now I might never get the chance again and I can't lose her for real this time. So without giving myself the chance to rethink, I knock on the door three times and I wait, handing in the pocket of my hoodie.

I wait a solid thirty seconds, which feel like an eternity, before the door finally opens and I see my beautiful girl. Her face is bare, hair only halfway straightened, and she's in those shorts I love and my old Led Zepplin t-shirt.

"Shawn," my name still sounds like heaven spilling from her lips. "What are you doing here?" She crosses and then uncrosses her arms, shifting her weight from one leg to the other before standing completely straight.

I didn't even realize I was crying until I sniffled and heard my voice crack with just three words, "I miss you."

"Shawn," she shook her head.

"I tried not to," I insisted, still standing like a fool on her door step. "I swear I did. But I couldn't stop. I looked through all our pictures and texts, and I couldn't stop myself from missing you. And I know I have no right to because I broke things off. But I was in Paris and I was miserable because Paris was your favorite place, and that was where I promised to love you forever, and I'm still keeping that promise. I was an idiot," I continue to ramble. "If there's a better word for that, then I'm that too, because I thought it would be easier if I broke things off. This tour was going to be so long and to go that long without each other, I was scared that it wouldn't be enough for you. But it's not what I wanted, y/n. It's not, and I just-"

"Shawn, stop."

I shut my mouth instantly, ready for her to tell me to leave. But what she does instead throws me completely off guard. She pulls me into the apartment and wraps her arms around my neck, burying her head deep in my chest.

"I miss you, too." She mumbles and I exhale slowly, only to inhale that scent that I love so much. The scent that is naturally her. She starts to pull away, and even though I don't want her to, I let her but she only leans back enough to take my face in her hands and before I even have time to blink, her soft lips are on mine and I'm whole again.

She's mine again and I'm never letting her go.

***

Tags: @curlyshawny @shawns-badreputation @anamariel2301 @bbellbagel

This took me longer to write than it should have, but I kinda really like it. I hope you enjoyed and I'll see you Wednesday for more content! 💙

Like, reblog, and leave feedback!!

[cryptnus-blog]

The Immutability Of Blockchain Is Useless When It Comes To Easy Crypto Thefts And Hacks

New Post has been published on https://cryptnus.com/2018/11/the-immutability-of-blockchain-is-useless-when-it-comes-to-easy-crypto-thefts-and-hacks/

The Immutability Of Blockchain Is Useless When It Comes To Easy Crypto Thefts And Hacks

[Disclosure: I used to have a small amount of Ethereum (Ether), but now I have absolutely zero Ether]

Your eyes are not deceiving you, the disclosure above is usually printed at the end of any article by any Forbes writer when the subject matter is about cryptocurrencies.

In this case, I am confirming that I now have no Ether, but I did have some until my crypto wallet was hacked around six weeks ago.

In the interim period, I know now more than most about the lack of crypto security and how it’s virtually impossible to retrieve funds after they’ve been stolen. It’s an interesting story, it’s just highly annoying that it happened to me.

First things first. Like many others, I was in the latter stages of the crypto wave and only started becoming interested in them a couple of years ago.

Blockchain seemed revolutionary, Ether looked as if it could more than emulate Bitcoin because of Smart Contracts, so why not quietly invest in a future nest egg? I had time on my hands, so this was always a long play… and not a big one.

I learnt quickly, heard that crypto exchanges were hacked regularly, so it would be advisable to store my Ether in a wallet via a public key and a private one. I could upload funds using my public key (open to the world), but only I would know the private key.

So far, so encrypted. Both keys were 40 characters long and I decided to use Myetherwallet to store my Ether; friends in the industry had assured me this was the best one.

As directed, I printed off my private key, kept it securely in my desk (whoops, just gave it away again) and then came up with what I thought was a masterstroke.

Some years ago when I lived in Goa, I met some very interesting people, one of whom was a notorious (and somewhat garrulous) drug dealer.

He told me over a few beers that whenever he wanted to pass on a secret message, he would give his Gmail log-in and password to an associate and that individual could access the appropriate message in Gmail drafts.

Nothing would be sent over the internet, so nobody would know, so it was as safe as proverbial houses. Good enough for a paranoid drug dealer, good enough for me; that’s where I stored my private key.

Moreover, I split the key into ten different sets of four characters and encrypted it my own way. Whenever I accessed the wallet, I would scrunch the characters together, cut-and-paste, access my wallet, then clear my browser history, then rearrange them differently. Clever old me.

Clever, not. This, apparently, was how the hackers found my private key. So if you’re thinking of storing your private key (or talking to fellow drug dealers), then Gmail drafts is a very bad idea. Clearly, I found this out too late; you have no excuses.

Crypto wallets and exchanges are mutually exclusive and do not provide security.Quoteinspector (via Creative Commons Flickr

What happened next was insane and intense. When I next logged in, I quickly discovered that I’d been cleaned out a week earlier. The crypto cupboard was bare.

Like any other burglary, this was an intensely stressful experience, so I activated my network of great people. Black hats, white hats, blockchain aces, crypto genii, high-networks individuals with access to the top, everybody I could think of.

Information came quickly. The Ether had been moved to a new public key address, but had not moved for seven days. This meant it could have been malware that had scraped the private key (but didn’t know how to move it to an exchange) or the thieves were biding their time.

Unfortunately, they bided their time for another six days, but I was told ‘not to worry’. This was blockchain and if the funds were moved to an exchange then I would be alerted, the thieves would be easy to track down.

Then they moved and six days later I was alerted that they were transfering my funds (along with others) to the Binance exchange. That transaction had to be stopped because no blockchain transaction can be reversed. Simple surely, the exchange could just block that transaction.

The next six hours were crazy, it was if the whole world was trying to help me out. Over the course of that evening, the odds of me blocking the transaction veered between 5 per cent to 40, down to 20, up to 70, down to 30 and finally a big, fat zero.

Myetherwallet were sympathetic, but said there was nothing they could do, they did not have the ability to stop movements, even if they were suspicious. I spoke to Myetherwallet CEO Kosala Hemachandra in a panic as the heist continued its less than merry way.

Remember we are an open source wallet that doesn’t hold any user funds, so any compromise of funds like this may be a result of using a lookalike phishing site. We have the highest security measures available in the market so that our users are protected against malicious actors.

Well, that was nice to know, but it didn’t help me much, so I turned to Binance, but was presented with a website request for a ‘ticket number’ and they would get back to me in 72 hours.

Seventy-two hours? I wanted something done within 72 seconds. I was told to expect a reply, which came 24 hours later, and a request for a law enforcement number to whom I had needed to report the crime.

I live in the UK, not North America. Law enforcement means the Police and while I appreciate the work the Police do, I don’t think any Police force in this country would even understand what had happened to me.

This to them would just be another burglary and if they did know enough about crypto, being informed that I had left my private key in my Gmail drafts was as good as leaving a window open in my house. I probably deserved it.

I later caught up with Wei Zhou, Binance CFO at this month’s Blockchain Summit in Malta and he said there had an increase in thefts such as mine over the last couple of months describing it as a ‘last grab’; hackers knew the crypto community was beefing up security.

We work very hard to ensure the safety and security of funds on Binance and Trust Wallet. Our hope is that all users are informed on best practices to ensure the safety of their own storage and accounts. We work closely with law enforcement agencies around the world to help users recover funds, so in case of stolen funds, we encourage users to file reports right away with law enforcement.

It will be interesting to find out just how many times Binance has co-operated to get theirs users’ funds back, but Zhou assured me that Binance wanted this relationship with law enforcement to be more efficient and they’re working on it.

I have seen the price of Ether plummet in the six weeks since I was hacked, so the pain has lessened over this period of time, but while I’ve been an idiot, I’m not exactly clueless in how this all works.

For the average and traditional investor however, the volatility of cryptocurrencies and its current (and brutal) bear market are enough to put most of them off investing in crypto.

Add stories such as mine and the eventual creep of regulation, the crypto world right now seems to be a very dangerous place to play.

On the other hand, I’m still a believer and while I’ve been burnt once, I may yet return. In the interim, the thieves have got away with it and whether this is a ‘last grab’, whether I’m a total loser or whether better security is coming, the warning is clear.

Never, at any time, store your private key anywhere on your computer or your cellphone; you are not safe. Moreover, forget using Gmail drafts for anything else other than drug-dealing… it’s a mug’s game.

[Disclosure: I do not currently hold any Ether… or any other cryptocurrency]

[w0ahstarr]

Want to know the worst part is I fucking stand up for you, everyone keeps telling me how I'm better off without and how horrible you were and I fucking defend you till I'm blue in the face. I still have your family on Facebook because I care about them, I viewed them as good as family when we were together yet you block my family at the soonest opportunity you get. Okay, I know my faults and mistakes but you can't seem to think you did anything wrong. Well, you pushed me to my breaking point. You treated me as an inconvience rather than a girlfriend. So when someone else started giving me the attention I wanted it fucked me up. I didn't know how poorly I was being treated until someone showed me how I should be treated. You spoke to me like shit, to the point sometimes where even my mum would cringe. The night my niece was born 15 weeks premature and we didn't know if she'd make it through the night, I came home and asked for a cuddle and you rejected me in front of my own mother. You wanted to break up with me last summer because I phoned you and wanted to see you when you was busy. And I still think the sun shines out of your arse. I'd still pick you, even after everything. You could do so many unspeakable things and I'd still want you. I guess I was the one who loved you more. Even now when I was the one to break up with you. Really shows how much you actually cared about me. So let everyone fill your head with shit about me, but they don't fucking know me. Not even Abbie, she hasn't the faintest idea who I am anymore. The worst part is she fucking egged me to leave you, she told me you treated me like shit and she thought it was disgusting but now you two are all pally. You hated that girl but now you're friends? So you can forgive her but not me? People change Louis, I'm completely different from who I was 3 months ago. I grew up, maybe you should take a leaf from my book. It's easy to be bitter at someone, even after 5 months and you're clearly viewing it from one side and won't accept that maybe you were to blame too. So stay salty, whatever helps you sleep at night, but good luck finding someone who will love you even half as much as what I did and do now. You'll never find anyone who will love you as much as I do. So good luck or whatever with your life, all I wanted was to be friends. Regret me, whatever I don't care, but I don't regret you. I won't forget you either. Please treat your next girl better than me, we all make mistakes and I was clearly one of yours so learn from the mistakes you made with me and I hope you make the next girl feel like a million dollars, I know you've got the love inside you Louis, just learn to show it better. Thank you for the last four years, my idiot brain will still hope that one day we can be friends, but let's be real that will never happen. What I can't get my head around is us speaking Wednesday and now I'm blocked so why don't you just tell me to fuck off and that's what I'll do, instead of playing the childish games? Did it give you a kick or something. I know I'd be better off dead, no need to remind me.