#I feel like she’s the most vulnerable and honest she’s ever been and people are mad at it? don’t like her approach to it?

[kingofmyborrowedheart]

Not to be all “I listen to Taylor Swift in a deeper and intellectual way” meme but I am seeing some people just not getting this album at all and I am a bit surprised by it.

[tabithatwo]

are we ready to talk about shauna's barely hidden but somehow very ignored psychosis and how it, like a ton of her other qualities, is brushed aside by both those around her and the audience? like, i think its clear that a central focus of the show is the way lottie is the only one who got stuck in a facility (and natalie in and out of rehab being the next closest to reckoning with her shit) when the rest of them are very clearly not okay. as a certified Crazy Girl, i've been weary of how they'll handle lottie's story line (blurring psychosis and the supernatural is a very delicate and tricky thing and thus far i've been sort of just waiting to see where it goes). our data on and understanding of mental health is incredibly limited for a lot of reasons (but that's a rant for another time) but there is a large mainstream misconception of when hallucinations and delusions can happen. psychosis isn't just something that happens in schizophrenia and its very complex, so if you want to learn more there's plenty of info out there i'm not going to get into it here, but it happens in a lot of other cases. psychosis is, most simply put, a loss of contact with external reality. ptsd can cause psychosis, especially auditory and visual hallucinations.

so shauna is shown to have these experiences and i didn't realize that they were being so heavily overlooked by a large amount of people until the reaction to the scene where she beats lottie nearly to death. shauna is introduced in s1 as having hallucinations of jackie 25 years later. she is shown to disassociate. in 207, she both holds the baby's body and believes the delusion that they ate the baby. the episode shows her fighting the delusion until she can't anymore. meanwhile, adult shauna tells lottie she keeps callie at arms length out of "fear that she would die...i guess? or maybe that she was never even...real to begin with." then she adds "i think something is broken, lottie." implied: she's broken. something is wrong with her. this is the is the most honest about her mental state we've ever seen shauna be.

why? because lottie has always been and likely will always be perceived as crazier. lottie is the one they pin it on, lottie is the cult leader both then and now, lottie is the scapegoat, lottie is the one who got sent to switzerland. i think there's something to be said for the effect lottie has on people (again, a whole other post) but honestly, that alone is enough. shauna is feeling vulnerable for a lot of reasons and she can tell lottie that she thinks she's crazy, that she's never quite sure her daughter exists, that she's constantly afraid she'll die to the degree that she doesn't let herself interact with her in a real, tangible way, because it's always safer to tell the crazy girl you're crazy, too.

and lottie knows. shauna knows that. lottie clocked her psychosis almost immediately, when she was in the meat shed for all hours. the other girls were shocked by the makeup, and their shock was so fucking strange to me when i watched it, but now on reflecting i'm realizing maybe its the lottie effect. like, have i done the shit shauna has? abso-fucking-lutely not lol. but does my mind work in a way where i immediately would assume shauna was doing something along the lines of the shit she was doing out there, because to me its like...what else would it be? yeah. like sees like, in a way. lottie knows what this looks like at baseline, even if its coming out way different in shauna. even if in shauna it looks like aggression and violence a lot of the time. lottie gets it.

jeff doesn't get it, he thinks strawberry lube is too wild. taissa gets it to a degree, and we see shauna be the second most open with her, but tai suppresses and hides it a degree that she wouldn't dare step foot in a therapist's office (this is yet another thing that makes me crazy but is a whole other post lol). shauna's main goal in this life she's created is pretending to be normal. and she's like, impressively bad at it. but people let her, because what else are they going to do? addressing the clear issues is taboo, because we categorize people so heavily. she masks better than lottie, but it's fucking wafer thin. you see this when she interacts with people who aren't her family or the other yjs. the way she speaks to the taylors? to adam? shauna is only sometimes masking passably when she's in her set world, where she has a routine, and is surrounded by people she only has to half-convince of her sanity.

if shauna is honest about the level of psychosis she experiences, she knows she'll end up like lottie. and i think there's an argument to be made that the people around her (which at this point in her life is pretty much just jeff because she's done another common thing and insulated herself from other people, re: the way she behaves being clockably off to others who won't overlook certain things or can't relate) understand that too. it can't be addressed, because then in their minds there must be action of some kind if it is. (taissa yelling you're acting crazy, shauna is one of the most purely terrified moments we see of her in relation to shauna, because she knows she's admitting something. jeff yelling something to the same effect after the carjacking, same thing.)

the person we see try to get shauna to open up about it is callie. her teenage daughter, who bares the brunt of her difficulty maintaining reality, (who knows that shauna has never accepted her fully as her child, and seems to actually sense that there is a deeper reason for that), asks her to open up. she tells her after the club scene that she knows something is wrong. she even mentions jackie directly. she spends all of s2 trying to relate to shauna, to get her to be open with her about everything. there's no way shauna's trauma and psychosis and general issues have gone unnoticed by callie. daughters always know. they see it in their mothers before they even have a concept of the world. so we're watching a 16 year old try to get her mom to open up, because she doesn't understand fully why that's so dangerous to shauna. to callie, it may even be a secret she thinks other people are in on that she's being left out of. i think maybe she's realizing that it isn't personal and that shauna is guarded like this in general, and we're watching that happen.

callie is learning to care for and relate to her mother and she doesn't see why shauna won't let her in, because to her it's an innate truth that she'll be by her side no matter what (if only she'd let her be). she has unconditional love for her mother and that is the scariest thing in the world to shauna, because the last person who had unconditional love for shauna died because shauna didn't know what to do with it. a baby she never got a chance to meet in reality could've replaced the love that jackie gave her, and shauna was maybe starting to look forward to that, but that ended before it began. so twice shauna has killed that figure in her life. the one who loves her wholly and for who she is, which is terrifying to shauna in it's own right (she tried to take that away from jackie in their last moments, maybe you never really knew me, because that would be easier. shauna can't handle someone really knowing her because she can't handle really knowing herself because, again, that means addressing things that go unaddressed). and she doesn't plan on killing that figure again.

(if callie's even real, because the baby wasn't real when she met him and jackie wasn't real every time she's talked to her in the last twenty-five years, so who the fuck is to say callie is real?)

[ilikethisacompletelynormalamount]

Andrew Scott, Vogue: April 2024.

by Zing Tsjeng, Photos by Annie Leibovitz

Ripley, in other words, is the hero of the tale. “That’s why he fascinates so many,” says Scott. “There’s been so many iterations of him. I think it’s because people root for him.” Actors like Alain Delon and Dennis Hopper have tried the role; Matt Damon played him as an obsequious, lower-class naïf; John Malkovich, as a slimy, camp killer. Scott’s Ripley is different; a watchful loner escaping rodent-infested poverty, more at home among art than he is around people. Musician and actor Johnny Flynn plays his first victim—the monied Dickie Greenleaf—and Dakota Fanning is Dickie’s suspicious ex-girlfriend. “I find Tom quite vulnerable,” Scott tells me. “I don’t think he’s necessarily lonely, but I certainly think he’s solitary…. He seems to me by his nature that he just can’t fit in. He’s trying to survive.”

In Ripley, Zaillian extracts maximum Hitchcockian dread from every creaky footstep. But most sinister of all is Scott’s face, which exhibits a sharklike steeliness throughout. It’s a performance that exudes queasy force. Is Ripley a scammer, a psychopath, or both? “There’s so many things lurking beneath him that I’ve been very reluctant to diagnose him with anything. I never thought of him as a sociopath or murderous,” Scott declares. “It’s up to everybody else to characterize him or call him whatever they want.”

As we weave through tourists near the Tower of London, barely anybody notices Scott, save for a faint glimmer of recognition among mainly young women. He seems to draw reassurance from it. “I don’t like to think about it too much, if I’m honest,” he muses of fame. “I find it a little bit, er, frightening.” He is known but not blockbuster-recognizable, although he is in the upcoming Back in Action with Cameron Diaz and Jamie Foxx. What stunts did he do? “I can’t give that away, I’m afraid, or somebody from Netflix will come and shoot me in the head.”

What’s been on Scott’s mind the most hasn’t been acting at all, in fact, but art. As a 17-year-old, he was offered his first movie role on the same day he was given a scholarship to study painting. He chose acting, but has recently been thinking about Oliver Burkeman’s philosophical self-help tract from 2021, Four Thousand Weeks, which makes the case for focusing on the five things you truly want to accomplish. “For me at the moment, it’s like, What do you want to do? What do you want to say?”

He scrolls through his phone to show me his work. There’s a watercolor of a couple arguing in a restaurant in rich reds and greens, line drawings of friends and people on the beach, and two self-portraits. “It’s a bit weird,” he acknowledges of his depiction of himself, all bulbous forehead and Pan-like tufts of hair. His brisk, nervy lines are reminiscent of Egon Schiele or Francis Bacon, who turns out to be one of his favorite painters. “Well, God, I’ll take that,” he mutters at the comparison. He would like someday to go to art school. “I don’t ever regret it,” he says of acting. “But I suppose you just get to a stage where you think, What else? That’s one of the big painful things in life for me, where you can’t quite live all the lives.” As he gets older, he feels the tug toward revisiting old working relationships, including with Waller-Bridge: “We’ve definitely got things cooking,” he smiles. “I’d love to work with her again. She’s just a singular, wonderful person.” For her part, Waller-Bridge says: “I’d love to see him do a fully unhinged slapstick comedy character. Someone who is outraged at everything, all of the time.”

As we round the pavement and the Tate Modern looms back into sight, he recalls a poster he received in 2017—a monstrously large graphic that detailed every week in a human life span. “It’s your entire life if you live to 80—you have to fill in all the bits that you’ve already lived,” he remembers in awe, “a visually terrifying gift.” What did he do with it? “I didn’t hold on to it for too long.” Easy come, easy go: We finally finish our loop around the Thames and, as Scott disappears back into the throng, anonymous just the way he likes it, it occurs to me that the actor has many lives to live yet. ■

[veturiusofserra]

when you know, you know | s. r.

𑁤 synopsis: in an interview she opens up about how easy it is to be loved by Spencer, sharing the story of how they met and how his love inspired her music.

𑁤 pairing: spencer reid x singer!reader

𑁤 words: 1.090

𑁤 disclaimer: This was 100% inspired by something my bf said a while ago, and I love the song. I hope you will enjoy it too <3

“As we reach the close of our conversation, one thing’s bugging me. In your song “Margaret,” there’s this line ‘when you know, you know.’ Like, how do you just know someone’s the one? I’ve been through my share of relationships, yet I haven’t experienced that kind of thing you sing about. In your song, it’s all so clear-cut, like you can predict the future. It reminds me of a kid believing in the tooth fairy – sweet idea, maybe not quite real. But that’s probably what makes the song so good. It talks about this perfect love where everything just clicks, and all your worries disappear. Maybe that’s what I’m still looking for, or maybe it’s just for some lucky people. Either way, your song paints such a strong picture of love that it makes me wonder if I’ll ever have a ‘Margaret’ of my own.”

“It’s funny, right? The answer everyone gives is so simple: “you’ll just know.” Like love hits you like a lightning bolt, destiny calls, happily ever after guaranteed. But maybe that’s the problem. We get this picture-perfect idea of love from movies and books, and then we miss the real thing when it’s right under our noses. We set these high expectations, these checklists of what “the one” should be like. And if someone doesn’t tick every box, we write them off. It’s like searching for a flawless diamond, forgetting that even the most beautiful gems have tiny imperfections. Because guess what? We all mess up. You make mistakes, I make mistakes, everyone does. Maybe that’s what makes a real connection so special – accepting someone, flaws and all. Speaking of which, there’s this story I wanted to share with you.”

“We're all ears!”, the interviewer and the crew smile with waiting faces.  

“For the longest time, I believed I was destined to give love, but never receive it.  Maybe because... well, let’s be honest, I can be a bit self-absorbed, lost in my own head and neglecting others. But even with the no love life mantra, there was always this yearning for a family, a deep desire for children I could call my own. The ‘what ifs’ terrified me, though. Would I be a good parent? Would they be happy? Could I provide for them? Eventually, I resigned myself to a life of music, making people happy through my art, having a few friends, maybe a tragically young death – you know, the artist’s curse. 

Then, I found him. We both know Penny, but run in different circles. He’s in law, I’m an artist – about as different as you get, except for maybe a shared love of fancy vocabulary. We met at Penny’s birthday party, and while he claims it was love at first sight for him, I just thought he was the most handsome man I’d ever seen. But that was it. He was too shy to introduce himself, and I was sworn off men at the time. Funny how fate works, right?  We never crossed paths before, but after that night, it seemed like everywhere I turned, there he was. That’s when I decided to take a chance, and boy, I was so scared!

All those stories about soulmates and butterflies? They weren’t for me. Anxiety had been my constant companion for as long as I could remember. Butterflies just meant another battle brewing in my head. What I craved was peace, a steady hand to anchor me until I was ready to set sail. So, I built a friendship with him. We shared secrets, dreams, and vulnerabilities. He turned out to be a brilliant mind, a walking encyclopedia with an IQ of 187. Yet, he never made me feel inferior. He found humor in my quirks, and we seemed to complement each other perfectly. The more time we spent together, the more his words resonated: “We were designed for one another.”

And then, it hit me. Love. Deep, unexpected, and all-encompassing. It felt effortless, a perfect fit. But fear gnawed at me. It was all so new, so unfamiliar. Just as I was drowning in uncertainty, Penny, our mutual friend, reached out. She had something to show me – “Margaret.”

“She wrote it?” she asked, intrigued.

“Well, she started it,” I clarify. “Inspired by him, she penned the first lines that night after the birthday party. She couldn't shake the image of his longing gaze, a sight she’d never witnessed before. It felt sacred, a raw glimpse into his heart. The initial draft, rough around the edges, went something like this: ‘just writing for a friend. My shirt's inside out, and penmanship is messy. He met her on the rooftop, and she wore white. He said, ‘I think I’m in trouble.’ He saw flashes of the future.” A gentle smile graces your lips. 

“Seriously, that’s adorable.”

I nod, a blush creeping up my cheeks. “Right? Her words sparked inspiration within me. I wrote the rest, my mind consumed by-”

“By him.” she prompted, leaning in.

“He made love feel simple. Loving me was effortless for him, a stark contrast to the struggle I’d always imagined. It was like breathing, a natural and easy rhythm. He helped me discover the light that had been hiding within me all along.”

“There’s a saying,” the interviewer began, “to be loved is to be changed.”

I smiled. “I prefer a different one: to be loved is to be known. Because maybe, just maybe, he saw the affection within me all along, the part I couldn’t quite see myself.”

“You are indeed full of affection,” she said warmly. “Thank you for sharing this story with us.”

“Thank you for listening. I know it's a cliché, but there truly is someone out there for everyone. You never know what tomorrow holds, but deep down, a tiny spark ignites within us, guiding us towards that love. Trust it.”

“That wraps it up for our interview with the lovely Y/n! But before we say goodbye, there's one more message for her. Can we play it, Jonah?” A nod later, the studio fills with the sound of a familiar voice.

“Hey there, love. Just wanted to say congratulations on the album! You poured your heart and soul into it, and I’m incredibly proud. But hey, can you come home soon? Two days feels like an eternity without you. Miss my other half. Love you tons, sweetheart. And everyone listening, stream Ocean Boulevard! Dex says hi to mom, too.” A meow erupts in the background, eliciting a laugh from you and the studio crew.

thoughts? or prayers idk

[imagine--if]

hey! i hope your doing well, i would love to see anything fluffy for mike (headcanons, blurbs, whatever you feel like suits it most!) - he deserves the whole world and sm more to me 😭

A/N: I get youuuu, hope you enjoy 😁 started off with the relationship hcs but let me know if you wanna see anything more specific!!

Warnings: FNAF movie spoilers, mentions of violence

⋆✮ Dating Mike Schmidt Includes: ✮⋆

➳ Mike's been through a hell of a lot ever since his little brother got kidnapped, so I'm seeing major protectiveness and sometimes even clinginess involved from him when you end up dating because 😭 guy's been through stuff and he's not letting anyone else he's close to get hurt

➳ To be honest, at first he's pretty closed-off with people, vulnerable with a tough exterior, so if you meet him in some scenario where you're tied up with the Freddy's murders and job, he'll try to be distant and professional and all... ending up failing 🙃

➳ Eventually you start. talking more about personal things, hobbies your lives, and he'll mention his sister Abby and having to take the job because he needs the money and is in the middle of the custody situation with his sister. He's got a lot going on and the trauma of what happened all those years ago still wringing at his guilt, so being able to talk with someone who doesn't judge in a relaxed place is a nice change for him having to be on guard all the time.

➳ When Mike befriends you, which is what happens first, he's got your back. If you need someone to vent to or hang out with or whatever, he'll do whatever he can to help, and when it comes to you being in a sticky situation or someone trying to hurt you or play you, he always seems to realise and is in no way afraid of confrontation to get them to back off.

➳ Like if William tries sizing you up a bit... and Mike gets annoyed with that cool, defensive glare as he asks if he needs anything (I've got to make an imagine of this nowwww). I think Mike would only realise that he's actually jealous if you teased about it, or if he really loses his temper with someone that's not leaving you alone or something. Then it really nags at him and makes him think about actually liking you as more than a friend, and then that initial reluctance because everyone he gets close to seems to have something bad happen to them, like it's a curse. At the end of the day, he just wants you to be safe.

➳ It would take something big for Mike to confess to you, unless you take the first step (aka Abby begging you to tell him you like him too because she's getting bored of him not concentrating on what she's talking to him about or the conversation somehow curving to you and the stuff you're into). Maybe you're attacked at Freddy's and you're all in on the crisis together when Mike stands firmly in front of you when William reveals himself, or he shoves you out the way so you won't get hurt, ultimately jumping in front of the threat without a worry of him getting hit instead. It's then that he realises how much he needs you in his life, how he needs you alive because you add some joy to it that he hasn't felt in all these years, a change from the darkness that his head's stuck in.

➳ It all comes out of him in a rush as he looks you up and down with wild eyes and a firm grip, asking if you're alright and saying in a rush that "you're one of the most important people in the world to me, and I don't know what I'd do if you got hurt... I- I couldn't live with myself, okay?!"

➳ Okayyy Mike, just kiss them 😏

➳ After you fight Afton together and get Vanessa looked after, you can finally breathe and properly start dating, which includes that familiar protectiveness and slight clinginess... and also being best friends with his little sister, which you 100% would be. You'd spend time drawing or chatting or playing random games while Mike was out working, eliminating the need for a babysitter because you're the perfect fit and get along with her great. And when he is home, you do a lot of stuff together, like a mini family, and there's finally that security and stability in that life she needed.

➳ I feel like Abby would find it hilarious to tell you all the sappy things Mike says about you on the rare occasions where you're not around, ending in Mike's cheeks flushing beet red and him picking her up and whirling her around playfully until she's in fits of laughter. "I heard Mike say that he found another reason to keep going when he realised he was in love wi- hey!!"

➳ Mike would be a bit clingy, again because of what happened with Garret; Mike being distracted for one moment and then blaming himself for the rest of his life because it was that moment where his brother was taken and killed. So if you are out, on a date or just around, this guy will not leave your side. He's the kind of person to text you again and again if you don't respond to the first message, and it's kind of cute how much he worries, but then he doesn't need to, and every now and then he'll need your reassurance that you guys are safe and that you won't leave him, which stills ends with him burying his face in your neck for a long tight hug for a while.

➳ MIKE'S A BIG HUGGER. CHANGE MY MIND.

➳ Whether you're watching a movie with him and Abby, or you're out on a date or sleeping or whatever, Mike will always have some contact with you if you've told him you're okay with it: fingers linked under the table, pressed into his side while you're watching TV (with an affectionate forehead kiss every five minutes 🥺) or being half crushed to death while you're trying to sleep when he rolls onto you and traps you under his leg... good luck if you need to go to the bathroom. Chances are he'll end up trailing after you with mumbled protests.

➳ That protectiveness always kicks in when someone looks at you for too long, or in a way that he doesn't like the look of, or if you're obviously uncomfortable with. If you're quick, you can just convince him to walk away and you two go somewhere else, because Mike will end up getting annoyed and giving the guy a line to get him to make them go away. If he's not careful, he might end up getting in a fight again, but he'll really try not to when you tell him off for it and promise him that things are okay and you're not going anywhere.

➳ You and Abby are basically Mike's world, after all that's happened, there are only really two people left that he truly cares for and would do anything for. Once you're in a relationship with him, he'll do everything he can to make sure you're safe and won't have to go through anything he had to. If ever you're upset, he'll listen for hours with no judgement and major support, whatever mood you're in somehow rubbing off on him. Mike will admit his feelings in a rush, and when he does, he's not afraid to tell you that he loves you whenever you need to hear it, or whenever he wants to say it and wants you to be reminded. It's something that you can never doubt.

[tokkiwrites]

FAWN HEART, PART ONE : The night's desire.

dark!joel miller x f!reader

summary: After a few months of being together, you move in with your boyfriend, 'Adam'. His landlord, Joel Miller, takes a special liking to you.

tags: murder, stalking, spying, mention of abuse, mention of blood, violence, age gap, vulnerable reader, stalker joel, mentions of abusive relationship, pet names, she/her pronouns (let me know if i missed anything.)

ㅤ↪ㅤtokki's ۫ 𐑺 𝚜𝚞ׂ𝚐𝚊𝚛 ࣭ note ˑ ⌕ ࣭ ּ ➭ staring my first series ever !! of course, I will continue it only if this first part does well ( so no spice for now!! ). for now, we're starting off a bit mild, & I'm leaning more on the double storylines . this is short with only 1.5k words, but it's a little gift since i was gone for so long. sorry if it sucks! remember, requests are opened, and your feedback matters the most to me 🐰

【commencing】 : a heart as soft as the embrace of spring. She welcomed everyone with open arms, seeing the best in people, and never turned anyone away, no matter the pain. Her kindness boundlessㅡ she gave without expecting anything in return. But this gentle nature often left her defenseless. she continued to believe in the goodness of others, her fawn heart resilient and unwavering, oblivious to those trampling on it. her fawn heart, her weakness.

「may 04th ㅡ O2:08 AM」

he didn't know her. didn't deserve her. the nerve he had saying he loved her when he doesn't know what love is...he doesn't know what kind of love she needed.

so when he left for work every night, her true love would sneak in. Joel wasn't the romantic type, but for her, he'd do it all. he'd sit there, watching her sleep, staring as her soft lips puffed out when she took her shallow breaths as she slept - how her lashes laid so perfectly onto her cheeks.. that's all he could do - stare. no touching. It killed him. how that asshole could do all that he pleased to her and how she would accept almost nothing in return.

she was sweet. bitterly. her soft, gaze a testament to the trials she's been through. she could've had so much more, yet she chose this moron. Joel couldn't understand why? not just why she chose that - but why everything when it came to her. why? everything about her, she was an enigma. when Joel first set eyes on her, that's all he could think of. why? and how? how could he have lived so long without his angel by his side.

that was 6 months ago. Tonight, it's a little less cold outside- its may, and the summer smell fills the air, as branches sway next to the window in a tireless dance. cars sound in the distance, as late night chatter of the streets fill Joel's ears and her scent his nose. drowning - suffocating him in the anticipation that maybe for one night he'd have her. he never wanted to scare her - to hurt her. she's precious, a porcelain statuette he had to have. Joel was adamant. kissing her only with his gaze, he got up only as the moon kissed the sun goodbye, and the chickadees started their long-awaited song.

「june17th ㅡ O8:42 PM」

late again. he's always late, letting her wait with no sign for hours. it was his birthday, not that Joel cared, but the thin walls provided him with utmost soundㅡ any and all sounds.

she was crying, and he didn't want to budge in making it weird for her, but his heart twisted when he knew she wasted tears on a shit-head like Adam.

but he let his heart get the best of him, and maybe, just maybe, this was the moment when he let his heart dictate, and she finally realizes that she's better than that. better than Adam. Better for Joel. He makes his way to the apartment next door, thinking if he should be honest with her or make up a lame excuse like late payment on utilities or donations for a new front door. He knocked twice, his palms sweaty. This girl made him feel all giddy like a teenager again, heart racing, his dreams full of her. The door cracks open, revealing just half of her red, puffy face with make-up pushed around.

"Y-yesㅡ"

"Hey, there, Iㅡ is everything alright, fawn darling?" his eyes furrow, a weight settling down in his stomach. he couldn't stand seeing her like this. her eyes finally reach his, a glint of gratitude glimmering within them. "hi, Mr.Miller. I'm fine justㅡ" she sighs. "Adam bailed on me.. again!" she tries to laugh it off, wave it as a joke, but the pain in her spirit is apparent. "Sorry if i was, you know... crying too loud. I'll keep it down -"

"fawn...darlin', you know-" Joel's gaze softened "you know you can always come to me if you ever need a shoulder to cry on. As corny as that sounds, 'm all here for ya." looking down at her, he dares not break eye contact.

"Thank you, Mr.Miller.."

"I told you to call me Joel, didn't I?" he tsks, straightening his back. "I feel too old when you call me mister.." Joel admits, in a playful manner. "Got it. Joel." How it rolls off her tongue like honey. how he wants to lick off every drop and indulge into her like the powerful drug she is, so deeply coursing through his being, wishing he'd hear her scream his name underneath him one day. "Right, so- if you ever want anythin'.." he scratches his rough beard. "I'm one door away."

"Thank you, Joel." she steps out barefoot, throwing herself into Joel's arms, hugging him whilst her sweet perfume envelopes them both. Joel breathes inㅡ so close. At last, the hug is broken, and she scurries back inside, leaving Joel stuck in his fantasy.

"My sweet fawn."

「july 3rd ㅡ OO:35 AM」

"Why so hostile, little bird? I thought you liked it when i touched you like this.. a little rough." he rasped, voice scratching at her chest like a knife. "Adam, you're drunk. let's justㅡ get inside." she manages to huff out as her palms lay flat on Adam's chest, pushing him away. "Baby- c'mon, be a doll."

"stop, Adamㅡ stop!" you could hear the frustration in her voice, and the tears that were brimming at the corners of her eyes, threatening to fall.

he couldn't just stand there and witness this. he'd regret it forever, unquestionably. " 's everything alright here?" Joel tries to play it cool. He doesn't want to let off too muc. Hee doesn't want it to escalateㅡ for her to get hurt.

" Mr.Millerㅡ"

"Yeah, none of your business, man. Just leave, okay?" Adam scoffs, staring down the hallway where he heard Joel's voice, thinking to himself,'what this old geezer was doing up so late'. "careful, boy. don't want ya to hurt your pretty lady, ok? just makin' sure everything is -"

"yeah, i fucking said everything is alright, so mind your fucking business, dude!" he spat "Jesus, man." Joel does nothing but smile. Does this Adam guy know what he has gotten himself into? Surely not.

He stretches his neck, making it crack as he takes one step closer to where the couple was. By this time, she was already starting to panic, soft pleads leaving her mouth as that jerk held onto her frame, shaking it up whilst he threw rude remarks towards Joel.

"Let go of her, boy."

"Fuck outta here, old ass. Don't make me come to you, I'm not nice when I'm drunk."

"Oh, I know." Joel promptly comes closer so that only a part of his face is visible by the light of the moon shining through the large window.

"Adam, let's just -"

"Quiet, bitch!" With a swift turn, Adam managed to deliver a harsh backhanded slap to her head, the pounding pain sending her a few steps back, right into the wall. "See, if you weren't here I would've gotten some pussy tonight. But you had to show up." Adam laughs, shaking his hand to recover from the hit. "You a knight in shining armor, or what?"

"You apologize to her, before I rip your fucking legs off and shove them up your sorry ass." Joel was calm. he tried his hardest to not run towards her, embrace her in his tight armsㅡ but he had other plans for now.

"Spare me the threats, old man. one wrong move, and your whole body dislocates." Adam laughs hungrily, shoving joel. or at least attempting. " I don't even know why you care so much. This bitch was onto me the whole night, but when its time to finally get the dick she shys away." he raises his arm again, oblivious to the knife Joel had aimed straight to his jugular, all this time, impatiently thirsting over the thought of Adam's blood gushing onto him. At first Adam is confused, but as he catches a glimpse of Joel's dark grin in the moonlight he finally realizes― he'd been stabbed.

with one palm over his mouth, joel grabs Adam closer, the knife slitting further into his flesh, now reaching his ear.

"You gotta know how to respect your elders, boy." Joel sucks a sharp breath through his teeth, staring deep into Adams eyes as he retracts the knife and promptly shoves it right between his eyes, with enough force that you could hear a faint 'crunch' sound. "ㅡand your lady." In a failed attempt to reach for the girl that was frozen in place, Adams pathetically tries to grab onto her dress as he collapses to the ground.

everything is silent for a moment.

So she stood there, watching as the blood from the splayed body pooled at her feet, the only sounds bouncing off the walls that bathed in darkness were her short breaths and slow steps approaching to where she practically turned to stone.

"'s alright, baby fawn . he can't hurt you no more. i promise."

[axellis]

good morning im politely requesting people look at my post abt how the ancients see each other

under the cut some closeups + a ton of additional thoughts

hollyberry + golden cheese are also part of the crew of 'thinking pv is a bit naive', but he's also the most emotionally intelligent out of all of them and incredibly empathetic and thats something they both respect a whole lot .

dark cacao on the flipside can see how much of a mental toll being empathetic can be

white lily seems to have the most "whole" thought of pv - which would make sense, she's been with him the longest and has seen every facet that is pv. but even still her worries that he's too trusting of her are eating away at her thoughts- as such a pv shapeshifter made of her subconscious Would be way more naive .

in my head white lily's pv would be the last shapeshifter and in order to tell the difference between them white lily would ask if he ever doubted her . the real pv would say that he definitely struggled and had been lost and confused- but ultimately trusts her above all else . vs the shapeshifter who would just say "no I'd never doubt you" .

i didnt have room for it but i think dark cacao also recognizes hollyberrys seriousness . if you get drunk with someone enough times you'll start to piece together the really vulnerable moments you had with eachother . i think hollyberry and dark cacao have the closest relationship and im not saying this because im in love with both of them

golden cheese has a bit of a recollection issue and you can see that with hollyberry + cacao the most. golden cheese reminisces a Lot and that affects how she remembers the othera . hollyberrys is a bit of a trickier thing but in this instance golden cheese doesnt remember the braids. she knows hollyberry has a different outfit than before but doesn't pay it much mind

you might have noticed the pattern at this point of pure vanilla having a bit of a cutesy interpretation of all the ancients. he loves his friends so much that he has a bit of a harder time being critical of them. he thinks dark cacaos seriousness/grumpiness is endearing. to be honest its partly an inverse of shadow milks interpretation of the ancients (simple and positive vs simple and negative) but that wasnt entirely intentional. just interesting to notate now that im thinking of it

hollyberrys dark cacao is a bit of an inverse also to what i was talking about with dark cacaos hollyberry . shes seen the sweeter more heartfelt side of dark cacao and that shines through to her

if it wasnt for the outfit + hair, golden cheese's dark cacao would have probably been the last shape shifter standing

and i will stand by the dragon cacao headcanon till the day i die

golden cheese's was fun to think about bc of the little details that are different between the different shapeshifters- specifically in the neck area (bc thays the only portion you guys get to see) . dark cacaos is a bit more of a hanbok style, white lily has a turtleneck thing kind of happening, etc etc. i think pure vanilla has the most accurate idea of what she looks like .

i think white lilys interestingly enough would be the last one standing because i honestly dont think her golden cheese would even be talking with her :(( so we'd only really find out the difference when white lily's gc is forced to talk to her . white lily thinks that gc hates her and wants her gone but golden cheese's feelings are wayy wayyy more complicated. golden cheese doesn't want white lily gone she Is glad that she's back but its also hard. everything she loves is gone right now . but she's going to find a way to get it back- and if white lily can help than maybe that'll rekindle their relationship.

the cuteification beam still reaches for white lily despite how much pv knows her . i doubt this would help with white lilys feelings that pv is being naive bc shes looking at a shapeshifter based off of pvs subconscious and that subconscious is showing so mucy nostalgia it probably hurts

hollyberry in the past probably really babied white lily + pure vanilla because she Knows theyre not eating . shes observant as hell and will always demand they have at least one bite of something in order to figure out if they're Really "not hungry".

the last one would probably land on golden cheese's bc again . her feelings are complicated and as such her subconscious would showcase that multifaceted issue of "knowing this is your friend and also knowing your friend is responsible for your kingdoms destruction".

[everydayyoulovemeless]

Hi! If you are still taking requests, I'd love a head cannon with marrying the companions at the castle, and how they would feel? Thank you for considering this! ❤️

Marrying the Fo4 Companions at the Castle

➼ Word Count » 1.7k ➼ Warnings » None ➼ Genre » Romantic ➼ A/N » I didn't add Codsworth because I couldn't stop thinking about Nate/Nora dying and then their spouse remarrying their butler. Felt too awkward😭

MacCready never imagined that he'd ever find someone who would love him as much as Lucy did and still know of his entire past. It makes him hopeful that Duncan could actually get a second partner to rely on in the future. He's never been too close with any of the Minutemen but, I imagine if he had to pick he'd choose them as his preferred faction. So, being married at the Castle wouldn't be an issue for him, but he'd get married just about anywhere as long as it meant you'd be the one he got to marry. It's one of the only times he doesn't intentionally pick a fight with Preston as he desperately wants his help with making him look his best. He knows he won't steer him wrong, since he's so close to you. He's so fidgety and nervous, but couldn't be more thrilled to devote the rest of his life to you.

Nick doesn't mind getting married at the Castle. If you'd asked him, he would've suggested the All Faiths Chapel, but in hindsight, the Castle seems a tad more appropriate for the two of you. Especially, when you consider that most of your loved ones are either already there or close enough in range to reach it safely. He cleans himself up quite nicely for the occasion, having Sturges help polish off his body's more visible aspects. He's a sucker for vintage weddings, and if you could somehow convince either Strong or a group of Minutemen soldiers to move one of those old cars into the venue, he'd consider proposing to you all over again.

Cait couldn’t care less where you two got married. She’s just glad that she’s going to marry you at all. Even if the Minutemen get on her nerves, she can’t help but find herself teary-eyed at the thought that you love her enough to even want to marry her. Even if it's almost certain that she's going to get into an argument of some sort with one of the faction members, she's still going to do her best to get along with everyone at the venue and make it fun for the both of you. She's never been a big fan of weddings and would prefer it if you only invited a small number of people, but besides that, she'll do her best to be as vulnerable with you as she possibly can on this day. Her being completely upfront and honest with you about how she feels is the least she could do after everything you've both been through together. It's the most emotional you have ever, and probably will ever see again.

There aren't many places at the Boston Airport that make sense to use for a venue so, Danse understands why the Castle is where you'd want to hold it. Even if they aren't Brotherhood, Danse still holds a lot of respect for the Minutemen soldiers and wouldn't mind playing nice if it meant making this day more memorable for you. He might even come to find that him and Sturges have a lot more in common than he initially thought. With them both being interested in power armor and whatnot. Danse is sorta like a puppy when it comes to these things, anywhere you want to go and anything you want to do, he's fully on board with. The location doesn't matter to him, as long as he's able to slip a ring on your finger. He's mainly just glad to be apart of your life in such a meaningful way and he hopes it'll stay that way for a long time to come.

Preston couldn't be happier to share this moment with you in a place he holds in such high regard. Especially since everyone he cares about is right here with you both in this moment. There’s nowhere more perfect in his mind and he’s overjoyed to be able to marry you despite the world being so tainted. It makes him that much more determined to defend the Commonwealth knowing that there are people like you still living in it. He does everything in his power to make the day go as smoothly as you could ever hope. He doesn't rest until the venue looks just as you described it to him, every little detail you dreamed about to him set in stone before your big day. Nothing is out of place, and he can't wait to see your expression when you see the effort he put into it all.

Piper had always been too enamored in her work to really consider a day when she'd get married to someone. She surprises herself when she agrees to commit herself to you for the rest of her life but, she supposes it's a welcomed one. The Castle would not have been her first choice when thinking of places to get married. If it were up to her, she would've picked somewhere on the coast. So, the two of you compromise and do it just outside the Castle on the sandy parts of the territory. She finds it to be much nicer on the outskirts, especially with the soft sound of the waves in the background. Nat makes the perfect flower girl for the occasion and she makes sure you're feeling more laid-back about the day rather than stressed. A light-hearted, casual wedding on the beach is all she could ever want.

Curie is so excited to wear a white dress! She’s read about this ritual before, but being able to partake in it is something she finds lovely! She couldn't care less where it happens, as long as the two of you can make it as accurate to the pre-war version as you can. She'll spend hours rambling to the Minutemen soldiers about all sorts of different topics out of being so nervous, but luckily for her, they're kind enough to just let her talk. Being able to experience something that holds such high importance to couples helps her to feel more human in her new body. There are so many different things she wants to do to further implement her as a person, and what better way to start than by getting married?

Strong doesn’t want to get married. It didn’t seem to work out all that well with Macbeth, so why would he want that for himself? Can’t you be a unit together without all your weird human rituals? Besides, there's no way anyone would ever get him into a classier outfit.

Hancock would’ve preferred to have married you in Goodneighbor since it's his home and everyone he planned to invite is there. But he's honestly so head over heels for you that he’d marry you in the glowing sea if that’s what you desired. He'll just ask to have two weddings instead of one, that way both of your 'families' can witness it without it being too much of a hassle. He's actually kinda glad your first wedding will be held at the Castle because he can't tie a tie to save his life, and Preston is way nicer about it than anyone in Goodneighbor would be. This way, he can learn and not be teased about it every time he walks into his own town, and Preston promises to keep his secret for him.

Deacon feels uncomfortable about getting married in front of everyone. He’d rather you go somewhere where it’s only you two and slide a ring on each other's fingers after saying your vows. No crowd, no long tradition. He's really nervous about the wedding, especially since it's being held in a place that means so much to you and to everyone else in the Minutemen. He wants to make this special, but his fear of being vulnerable is slowly killing him. He's so afraid that he'll get to the front of the makeshift alter and make a fool of himself. He's so shaky that you almost have to go over and ask how he's doing. He'll do it for you, just know he's having a few drinks beforehand to encourage his more charismatic side out of him. If that doesn't prove his love for you, I don't know what does.

X6-88 would hate it but would be surprisingly quiet about it for your sake. He thinks the Castle is disgusting, and he doesn’t particularly like the Minutemen, even if you are the general, but he wants this to be your day and so he’ll marry you where you want. The Institute would’ve been cleaner, and he could’ve arranged nicer decorations, but he supposes it doesn’t matter, as it’ll be him putting a ring on you either way. He can look forward to that, at least.

Old Longfellow would be pretty open about not wanting to get married there. He wants to compromise a little bit with you, as all of his closest friends are in Far Harbor and all of yours are in the Commonwealth. If anything he’d prefer to marry you in a place somewhere in the middle of those two places. You'll have to sit down with him and decide on a place that works for both of you and, if you can't find one, he has no issue just being with you. He's a firm believer in not needing to be married to prove your love for your partner. So, if that's how it ends up being, that's how it'll be.

Gage never imagined he’d ever get married, let alone at a Minutemen settlement. What were the odds? It’d take a lot of convincing to get Preston to agree to let you get married to a raider in the Castle. He gets slight flashbacks to Quincy at the thought of someone like him entering Minutemen territory so freely. But, as much as he disproves your relationship, he’ll let go of his grudge for the day so you two can get married. Security is amped up like crazy though. Gage personally doesn’t care where he gets married as long as it’s not in Nuka-World. The gang members aren’t too fond of the ritual and will begin to look down on both of you for participating in something so “classy”. It’s best if they don’t know.

[dollypopup]

"Colin should have grovelled more!" "Penelope folded too easily"

I think statements like this typically come from people who like Penelope. . .but don't really understand her. And don't really understand just why she cares for Colin, and just why him groveling would not in any way bring her peace.

Penelope and Colin are kindred spirits in their loneliness, in season 3 more than any others. Penelope had lost her friendship with Eloise, and Colin didn't really have a close friend circle to begin with. Except with Pen. Pen was the person he could put the mask down for, could open up to, (in particular with their 'dreams' discussion) and that's why he couldn't even entertain the idea of giving up talking to her in Season 2. She is a vital part of his life, and holds so much significance and importance to him.

I imagine that's what made their silence over his travels especially painful for him. They spent such a long time talking after Season 1, and he even informs her that her letters were so encouraging, that it helped him heal something inside of himself. That if she could see him in a gentle way. . .so could he. (And he repays this, because he is honest to god out here acting and looking at her like she hung the moon in the sky). But without her presence in his life, he spiraled. Didn't feel confident in being who he is, and thus put on his persona more firmly. We know this because he wrote in his journal that "I want to be less needy, less insecure, while still maintaining the core of my vulnerability that makes me who I am". That he misses his family, that he misses home.

And we know, from the books, that Home? Home is Penelope. Penelope is his North Star, is his guiding force, and who I argue he feels he needs. In his very first scene, he looks toward her house, tries to find her in the window. When he does not, he returns to his family. In the outdoor gathering, he looks for her and finds her, eager to talk. He states aloud that he misses her, and I imagine he wrote it, too. Not hearing back from her over the course of his travels was surely something that hurt him, but he doesn't hold any ill will toward her for it, only wants to reconnect again. In fact, the one and only time he brings up how he misses her and that she didn't respond, she makes very clear the reason why: she heard what he said and it hurt her. And he's ashamed of it.

Colin hears her call him cruel, and instead of ruffling his feathers about it, instead of getting upset, instead of having a chip on his shoulder as I feel so many men would about it. . .he understands why she does so.

Penelope is a woman who has been largely treated poorly in her society. She feels unheard, she feels undesired, and in her circumstances, and I can't help but ask myself. . .has anyone ever truly apologized to Penelope for hurting her, before? Her mother? Her sisters? Eloise, likely, but. . .anyone else? And the way Colin did? Because of all the characters in the show, Colin? Colin knows how to apologize. He has a lot of practice in it. And very importantly: Colin, a man of privilege in his society, apologizes. . .predominately to women. To Marina, to his mother, and multiple times to Penelope.

Ultimately, Penelope wants to be heard, Penelope wants to be understood, Penelope wants to feel desired.

And Colin checks every single one of those boxes. He informs he is not who he was before, and then he proves it to her. He hears that he hurt her, and he comments on it directly. An entire night apart, and he comes back to her 'Because I embarrass you' with 'I am most certainly not ashamed of you', replies to her 'I am a laughingstock' with 'you are clever, and warm, and I am proud to call you my good friend'. He hears her proclaim her own insecurities, and empathizes so deeply with her. He listens. He understands. He makes clear that he cares for her, and that she *is* desired. 'You lift my spirits' 'I seek you out at every social assembly'. That she helps him see the world in ways he loves, that he sees HER and how much she has cared for HIM, that she makes him feel appreciated, that he appreciates her, in turn.

And then? Then? He shows her. He tells her, and he shows her. His actions all throughout Season 3 reinforce this apology. He continues looking for her in every corner of every ballroom, he continues complimenting her, he laughs at her jokes and respects her boundaries, he is ever so gentle with her, he listens to her with an attentiveness that no one else has ever given her. To Lady Whistledown? Sure. But to Penelope? Who else in the entirety of that ton has listened to Penelope the way Colin has?

Absolutely no one.

Penelope Featherington ghosts Colin Bridgerton for months with no explanation, and Colin comes back wanting to reach out to her, and she finally tells him why.

And he apologizes. Because he listens. Really, truly listens. And really truly cares.

I need you to understand how rare that is, even nowadays, but especially back then. That Colin is the kind of man who can put his hurt to the side and realize he made a mistake, that he said something callous, and he adores her, and he can't lose her, and he has to see her and make it right.

Because that's why Penelope fell for Colin. Not because he's beautiful, not for his charm, not for his family. But for his heart. Because he shows her kindness in a world that so often disregards her. Because he seeks her out and tries to understand her, truly hears what she has to say and compliments her, says he's sorry and looks at things from her perspective.

Because he saw her when she was invisible.

Penelope Featherington, who grew up in a house that made cruel jabs at her, has Colin Bridgerton come to her and say he regrets what he said, and that he was wrong, and that he understands why she's mad at him. Penelope Featherington who has so rarely had much of anyone tell her that they're sorry for what they said about her, sits before Colin Bridgerton as he professes how much she means to him. That he cannot even spend a full day away from her knowing they're on bad terms with each other without making it right. That he sees how she is hurting and he has to in any way he can amend it. She is lonely, with no one really in her corner at the start of season 3, and she feels like she lost it all, and Colin comes to her and says 'no, I'm here and I appreciate you and you are special to me, please let me in and let me prove it'. Is it any wonder why after she shakes his hand, she stands in the sun, and she feels the warmth of it, she can smile? That she can breathe, again? That she can be truly content for the first time in the season?

Because Penelope Featherington does not want Colin to beg. She knows him. She knows the tender, full heart he hides behind the new cavalier persona. She knows the soft underbelly of Colin Bridgerton.

He never had to grovel. All he had to do was love her. Assuredly. Fervently. Loudly. Unapologetically.

And he does.

[lilithliliam]

My quiet haven

Warnings: Yandere themes. Teacher/student relationship. Obsessive and possessive behavior. There is no bloodthirstiness, there is no theme of death. Manipulation and pressure. The reader is a virgin. NSFW. Jealousy.

The reader is studying with Gojo temporarily, cause she don't plan to be a sorceress. The reader is 18 years old. She must learn to use her power, which is why she came to study in Tokyo.

It’s hard to imagine a Gojo who loves someone very much, let alone Yandere Gojo, but it turns out that this can happen. Where did it all start? Gojo is not particularly interested in people, to be honest, but he really loves and cares about his students. About all of them without exception, but recently he began to notice that he devotes much more time and attention to one of his students than to others, and is it even possible to blame him for this. After all, she, his student, is the very embodiment of femininity, beauty and kindness. She's not like everyone else, she's not angry at him for his childish nature, she doesn't think he's arrogant, or she doesn't have a stupid crush on him. She always seemed to be able to somehow read his emotions. He could say that there was absolutely nothing wrong with him, that his mission had been more successful than ever, that he was not tired at all, but she could understand how he felt just by looking once. When all his students left, she approached him and asked about his well-being, whether he was tired, whether he was accidentally injured. Did he need anything? And she asked with such genuine concern that Satoru involuntarily felt something in his chest - was moving. At first, he brushed off her questions, not wanting to pester her with his problems, but then he didn’t even understand how he began to open up. In one of the most vulnerable moments, when she was the only one who realized that something was wrong with him, with the strongest. She just came up and despite all the assurances that everything was fine, she hugged him tightly. As tightly as she could. She told him not to hide his feelings, because we all are people. He is a human after all. No matter how strong he is, he is still a person who is no stranger to pain, fatigue and suffering. And this is not something to be ashamed of.

"I can't even imagine the heavy burden you carry every day, sensei ,but please don't carry it alone. Whenever you need, whenever you feel alone, I will always be here for you. I can hardly help a lot, but I can listen to you. And no matter what you say, it will always remain between us,” she told him.

She hugged him, pressing his head to her chest and stroking his hair. She whispered various soothing things. And he...just melted like plasticine in her wonderful hands. He felt like a lonely abandoned child who had finally found shelter, a warm home. That day he himself did not understand how he fell asleep. But he slept well then. And then the germ of interest that he experienced in her even at the first meeting grew into true love. He didn't care that she was his student, that she was younger. She will only study for a year and she is already 18. He has been single for so many years that who cares about her age or the family she comes from. Gojo knew that he had earned himself at least one happiness in life and he was going to take care of its safety.

She was kind in character in general. She was kind to everyone, from a small bug on the sidewalk which she picked up and planted on a nearby flower so that it would not be given away, to the janitor for whom she bought coffee in a very cold time, knowing that he would probably frozen And of course she was kind to her classmates. She cared, but not too persistently, for Megumi, hugged and supported Itadori, saying that even though he is a vessel of Sukuna, this doesn't mean that he is bad. She listened and gave advice to Nobara and went shopping with her. She calmed down and even prepared Nanami’s favorite bread and sandwiches, who, by the way, also doted on her. She became the soul and the bright sun of their entire company. And Gojo was fine with this for the time being.

However, over time, he became even more clingy than before. He began to constantly demand her attention. Her worries. If she devoted time to someone else, he would create scandals and hysterics. When he finished his missions, the first thing he did was rush to her and showed off like a kid. And she smiled and praised. Thanked him for his hard work. Prepared sweets or other food for him just because knew that after the mission he would probably want to eat something. And he could sit all night with her in the living room or in her room, eating sweets or chips and watching some movie. He would constantly cry at the sad moments and laugh out loud at the funny ones, but one thing was invariable: he would either lie on her chest or on her lap while she instinctively stroked his hair. When she was once enthusiastically reading some book, he became hysterical like a child and threw it somewhere, while refusing to look at her, and childishly pouting his lip, showing that he was the victim here. At first she was indignant, but then, instead of to reprimand him, she sighed quietly and opened her arms, where he immediately rushed, forgetting about his offense because she forgot about him for THREE WHOLE MINUTES!

Her classmates also noticed Gojo’s strange attitude towards her, but she brushed it off and said that he was like a big baby or a living teddy bear and that he needed to be cuddled and cherished, otherwise he would behave completely capriciously. They didn't approve of this, but seeing how happy Gojo was they couldn't resist. She noticed that his actions were strange at times, but she convinced herself that Gojo was very lonely. She understood the burden people had placed on him since his birth. How they don't let him be normal. And his childish behavior was justified by the lack of a normal childhood before. Seeing one day how bad he really was, she decided that at least she could understand him, not put pressure on him, could become his quiet haven where he could come to rest. She wanted nothing more than for her mentors Gojo and Nanami to finally be able relax and do what you really want. One day Gojo felt that he was ready to completely open up to her. He told everything that was in his heart. About his best friend Geto, who betrayed him to the point of taking his life himself. He expected contempt in her eyes, although he understood that she was not that kind of girl, but he was afraid of her reaction. But she smiled softly and said that it was probably hard for him. And that she understood him. She feels sorry for his friend, she feels sorry for that girl. But the past cannot be changed. If Geto was his best friend, then he understands his actions and does not hold a grudge against him, so Satoru should also forgive himself: she told him. He first smiled and then...cried. He cried in her lap as she stroked his hair in an attempt to calm him down. He calmed down and he and she even agreed to visit Geto’s grave together next time. It would seem that everything was fine. Everyone was happy. Gojo has finally found his soul mate. A person ready to accept him. Here she is, the perfect girl. Strong, albeit weaker than him, beautiful, although not more beautiful than him(joke). But something is still wrong. He looks at her communicating with Yuji and Nanami and something strange stirs in his chest. He watches carefully as she hands a basket, probably with food, into Nanami's hands. After all, Gojo himself saw how she prepared him and suddenly realizes. Oh yes, exactly. This feeling is called... anxiety. No no. Jealousy. No... uncertainty? No, stupidity. So that Satoru Gojo himself, the strongest magician, feels insecure? Nonsense. But deep down he is afraid that she does not feel the same, that she might choose someone younger, like Yuji, someone more responsible like Nanami. But he's not going to give up. He's lost enough people and he's not going to lose any more. He knows for sure that he doesn't want her to care about anyone else. Especially about Nanami. After all, after so much time spent with her, it seems that she did not look at him differently, although Satoru tried to look after her. He gave her sweets, put flowers in her room, or if she was just walking, he appeared out of nowhere and dragged her to the nearest cafe to try a new food, but apparently this was not enough. So Gojo decided to act more decisively. And show her intentions, because even if she guessed about his feelings, she tried not to pay attention to it.

Gojo had hugged her before, like all his students, but now his hugs became more frequent, lower and more intimate? Although she felt that something was wrong, she tried to blame it on paranoia. When she was cooking, he could hug her and put his head on her shoulder and inhale the smell of her hair. One day, when she was eating candy that he bought her, for some reason in the shape of a heart, he asked how it tasted. She says it’s very tasty and he took the candy she bit and ate it, closing his eyes in satisfaction. One day he took her phone to check the time, but then when she took her phone again, on the lock screen there was a photo of them that they took with everyone, but only... the rest of the participants were cut out and only him and Gojo remained. By the way, he put the same photo on his phone. She also noticed that next to his contact there was now a red heart. And sometimes she woke up in the morning with a heaviness on her stomach and when she opened her eyes, she found a sleeping Gojo who was hugging her tightly, trying to fit on her bed. Slowly but surely he became a part of her life, her social circle, slowly and surely filling her entire world. One day, while walking in a store, he offered her to buy “mochi” in the shape of a heart, which were sold for Valentine’s Day, to which she quite logically replied:

-But, Gojo sensei, this is for couples

“Well, yes, we’re dating so what’s the problem here,” he told her as if nothing had happened.

-I love you, you love me and...call me Satoru-sama now, right? She was numb for a minute, not knowing how to refuse him, and he, of course, took advantage of this.

-You take care of me, cook for me, hug me, comfort me. This of course means that you like me as much as I like you. And you will not leave me like everyone else. Don't hurt my feelings. Well, of course, and how can you not love me.I’m so charming,

- he said, knowing that he was manipulating her, leaving her no choice, but he didn’t care. She was his and no one, not even she herself, could change that.

And she, in turn, thought: This is the first time that Gojo is truly happy, it took so much time to heal his wounds, but she won’t open his wounds again and leave new ones? How can she do this to him? Yes, and she must admit that over time she herself began to have feelings for him. It’s hardly pity, rather admiration along with the desire to care. The maternal instinct must be making itself felt, because he's like real child (or maybe it’s just a skillful manipulation by Satoru) So she decided that why not. She will give him a chance.And she did not quite confidently confirm the fact of their relationship, and Satoru was not even shy about rare people in the store, and kissed her right there, because he had been craving this for so long.

As for intimate matters, everything is simple. His beloved is 18 years old, in fact, she is not even his student, and Gojo also has his own... needs. Therefore, he probably won’t want to wait, or give her time to prepare for this mentally. He will gently hint to her by saying something like:

"Hey hey, a wonderful day to lose your virginity, don't you think?"

Or

"How is my favorite virgin doing?"

He constantly kisses her on the lips and moves lower. Will constantly touch her. And one day he will invite her to his house to watch a film. But she felt how it would end, after all, it was Satoru. He almost directly stated that he wanted her. Before she had time to enter his apartment, he was already heart-rendingly and greedily kissing her lips. Lifting her by the ass, he carried her onto the bed while crushing the fat of her ass. Climbing on top of her, he kissed her as if he wanted her to choke on either his tongue or his saliva. While his long, muscular arms explored her entire body, hastily ridding her of her clothes. Having finished with the kiss, leaving a thread of their common saliva on her lips that dripped onto her bare collarbones, he kissed lower. Frantically kissing the beads of her hardened nipples and putting one in his mouth, he began to suck, twisting it around his tongue, causing a series of moans from his beloved. He barely looked away from her soft and elastic breasts and began to look at her greedily, God, how he wanted to take a picture of her now, it was just a pornographic look. He wanted to remember this for the rest of his life. But this was her first time, he had to be softer and more gentle and please her first, and then himself. He sank lower, from her navel, sunken tummy to her femininity and she screamed. Her whole body arched and she pulled Gojo's head closer to her peak and Gojo moaned out loud.

She wriggled like a snake, simultaneously dropping sweet moans that gave him an incentive to move on. He greedily sucked, licked and even stuck his nimble tongue into her, stimulating places that she probably didn’t even know existed. Using his thumb, stroking and occasionally rubbing her clitoris or alternating it with his tongue, and inserting first one then a second finger into her, he quickly brought her to the peak and she moaned loudly and protractedly. He stood up and took off his T-shirt as he walked, wiping his wet mouth and face with it.

"Damn, damn baby. This is the best thing I've ever eaten. I wish you would give me this instead of the usual tomorrow and dinner, baby," he told her.

While she was trying to recover from a violent orgasm, he unzipped his pants and hastily stayed in his boxers, wet from his own secretions, in which his erect penis could be clearly seen. He desperately needed to be in her. He seemed ready to cum now if she just touched him.

She felt something hard and smooth sliding along her wet folds, occasionally touching her clitoris, causing a new wave of goosebumps and moans. Then slowly, as slowly as he could, testing all his patience, Gojo began to enter her. She seemed to suffocate from the feeling of being so stretched and full, something strange was tickling her stomach from the inside.

Now it was real torture for him not to move. It was incredibly tight, hot and very humid! The vaginal muscles tightly wrapped around the penis. The heat that came from them was driving them crazy, prompting them to immediately start moving. But he couldn't afford to be rude, not with her!

He bows his head in a gentle kiss, pulls out of her slightly, and makes a careful push back.

For the first time, a girl feels the movements of a man inside her.

She clasps her hands behind his neck. She doesn’t yet understand how she feels.

Another soft, not strong, deep push. He barely comes out of her before entering again to the end, as if he is rocking the two of them on the waves.

Her quiet moan escapes directly into his lips, breaking the kiss.

Tries the amplitude a little more. So wet that he easily slides in it, feeling the pleasant friction of the sensitive organ.

He told himself that he shouldn't lose patience, that he should be gentle, but... God, he couldn't do it anymore. It felt like heaven, like pure bliss, like a drug in its purest form.

Her pussy was warm, tight, reactive and wet - it was everything he had dreamed of and more.

He tried to be soft, tried to be slow, but hearing her meow and whimper he lost all remnants of willpower and self-control. He set a leisurely rhythm, simultaneously comforting her with sweet words, saying how well she was doing, how great she was and how well she accepted him. Just be patient, okay, is it okay for me, baby? “Be patient with love,” he whispered to her, but he himself seemed about to go crazy.

-Darling, my love, I just want to make you feel good? Okay?

Trying to distract himself and distract her from the unpleasant sensations of stretching, he kissed her cheeks, ears and her sensitive neck.

Surrendering to his tender kisses, she forgot about the pain and completely relaxed.

-It's okay, I'm okay.

-Are you sure honey, damn... say yes

To which she nodded and smiled. And he couldn't stand it anymore. Spreading her legs wide and pressing them to her chest, he began to quickly and hard enter her, his snow-white, coarse pubic hair and the slapping of his pelvis causing additional friction, stimulating her clitoris, bringing her to the edge. Quick thrusts that quickly spread her apart causing her to open up and make room for him inside, stretching her walls and letting them mold to the shape of his cock.

She arches her back, groaning protractedly. Clings to Satoru's shoulders, maintaining his balance. Gojo grabs her throat with his wet palm, speeding up the rhythm.

There is a catastrophic shortage of air. She moans loudly in her lover's ear, squeezing his hair with her palm.

She feels intoxicated already from the sounds he makes. A primal, deep growl emanates from his chest as he looks down to where you are both connected in heart and soul. Forever and ever... He makes his way inside of you, taking pleasure in your whines and squeals and pitiful meows.

-Go-jo ah, more, nhh I want

-Yes Yes Yes, baby. Let's.Do it. Do. You can my darling.

A pleasant spasm tightens in the lower abdomen. She whines, resting her forehead on the man's neck. A shiver runs through my body. The heartbeat quickens, the head is spinning. She clenches inside and moans loudly.

A powerful orgasm breaks through her body, she closes her eyes to white spots, sinking her teeth into Satoru’s neck.

Her second orgasm was more intense than the first, her cunt throbbing around his cock as pleasure pierced her with outstretched claws, ravaging every part of her.

He groaned. "I'm feeling it. You're squeezing my... oh... I'm going to, damn nhhhh.

His body was on fire, pleasure coursing through every nerve as he continued to fuck your quivering pussy, the lewd wet slaps of flesh on flesh accompanying his wanton, wild moans.

-I'm here, almost. Me too. Babe. Babe. Babe.

He screamed as if in a fit and then moved again, then again and again until the white pearls of sperm stained her insides. He waited a little longer, a heavy exhalation escaping his lips, dripping from his forehead, nose and hair. And then he collapsed exhaustedly on top of her, without leaving her. Remembering that he actually rolled heavily to one side and laid her on his chest, trying to even out his breathing. He stroked her hair and gave her a short laugh, kissing her on the top of her head.

-It was, it was... indescribable. You're so good... for...me

He whispered to her various nonsense, words of love, promises. Until felt that she was sleeping.

-Good night, my not virgin. He whispered in her ear, admiring her peaceful, sleeping face with red cheeks and rejoicing at his victory and understanding what it means to be happy. He felt happier than ever. Felt peace, tranquility and tranquility.

He finally found his man, his home. Your own quiet haven. And now no one will dare to encroach on him, no one will dare even look at her. She is his. He branded her, made her completely his, and soon he will build a house for them. He will put her there, he will admire her for hours, he will be the only one, he will teach her himself. He will make her a child, marry her. Don’t want to share her with a child, but it’s better than some Nanami. Let Kento look for another. After all, she is... only his Quiet Haven.

I don't own this arts

[grapejuicestyless]

conrad and fem!reader were bestfriends growing up but they were always in love. (reader is a conklin) they were both in love but they were both so oblivious to each others love (Susannah always knew hehe) I was thinking this could be inspired by ‘back to you’ by selena gomez

basically when susannah dies conrad lashes out on yn and says like the worst thing you can think of but then tries to kiss her and yn is so freaked out that they don’t see each other for years. After yn finishes college everyone reunites at the summer house and Conrad and yn finally realize what’s been right in front of them.

i know this is a lot but your writing is so beautiful especially with Conrad. thank u <3 🙏🏻

Back To You

Conrad Fisher x fem!reader

Angst to fluff

Summery: The request above^^^ I tried to stay as close to what was requested I hope this is okay! <3

The waves hit the wooden poles underneath our feet in a soft pattern. The thrashing of them shaking the dock just enough that you could feel it rocking. It was calming, breaking the silence that settled between my oldest son and I. Conrad had been off all spring, part of me connected it to his old ex girlfriend breaking it off with him, but that was just what I told myself because the thought that Conrad knew what was going on, something I swore I would keep hidden until it had to be know, made me sick with guilt. How my condition was weighing him down.

I took him out to the old dock just for one on one time. He used to love it out here at night. The way the stars illuminated the sky in their different patterns, the way even with them shifting, the constellations always found their way to stick together in the sky for a few weeks at a time. He loved the feeling of the damp wooden bench beneath his legs and how close we could cuddle up out here. He always loved it just being us.

“What’s going on, Connie?” My words were soft, in no way pushing him to open up any fresh wounds. He seemed wound up, his light dampened. I wanted to figure it out, I wanted to help him. The Conklin’s would be down here by morning and I worried that if left unresolved, it could bubble into a mess.

“Hm?” He acted confused, completely unaware to what I meant. I knew my son better than that though. He was always far too smart to play dumb.

“What’s got you down?” I put on my best smile, trying to squint my eyes to make them as welcoming as I could. My Conrad was never the most open with his feelings. He hated to be vulnerable. He told me once when he was younger that he felt if he was ever truly honest, the words would never be able to have been taken back. By saying things he didn’t say, by pushing people away, it gave him a good distance to build up the courage to make amends again. It gave him the time to choose when he was ready to open up his heart to whoever he wanted. He was always so conscious with things like that. Always thinking things through before doing them. It was funny how much a contrast he was with his feelings compared to Jeremiah. My spontaneous son who had no fears about regretting anything. Using his charm to get his way through life.

Laurel once joked that she believed Conrad’s eyes were so much darker because they held much more fear than Jeremiah’s. He was consumed by it. At the time we laughed, but now I was beginning to believe she was right. Here I was, preparing for a death nobody knew was coming and still, after nearly two decades of fighting and loving, I still was stuck at that distant arms length Conrad held me at.

He ignored the question, looking out to the sky. He knew he could’ve lied to me, could’ve made up something about his old heartbreak. How he was stressed with school. Anything to at least let me be able to give my support, even if it wasn’t in the areas he needed it. Conrad knew me like I knew him, though. Bound not only by blood but by love. There was no great excuse he could make that I wouldn’t pick up on. Mothers know everything, it’s our job.

My hands shook, partly from the cold and half from the disease working it’s way into my system. He shuttered sun my fingers wrapped around his, lips pressing to the back of his hand and my thumb smoothing over his skin to keep it stuck there.

“You don’t have to go through this alone, okay? When you feel like you need to say something, you don’t have to overthink it with me, okay? I’m your mom. I’ll love you no matter what’s going on in that mind of yours.” I saw the way his mouth twitched upward, a faltering smile so weak it was barely there. His eyes shinned in the moonlight, illuminated by the stars and the fireflies zipping by.

“Thank you, Mom.” He was honest then. I knew it by the way he said it. Like a weight was lifted off of his shoulders. He didn’t avoid my gaze, but held it firmly.

He crashed into me like one of the gentle waves into the dock. Arms wrapping around me in the biggest hug he’d given all year to me. His fingers dug into the back of my blouse, holding onto me for dead life in a way. He seemed desperate to be close to me.

A deep sigh left his nose, tickling the skin on my neck and down my back. I almost laughed at the feeling, but held it in to prolong the moment we were sharing. Soon, we would both be leaving whether we liked it or not, it was certain. I hoped that in the attempt to have one last perfect summer, Conrad and I could become closer. That we could all find a sense of happiness.

That sense came a few hours later. A wish being fulfilled without any extra begging. By now the moon was long gone, hiding beneath the horizon, the birds alive and singing. The children playing on nearby beaches and the whooshing of speeding cars passing the driveway.

Each part of the home was set up in the way I had hand picked it to be. My favorite flowers resting on the mantle and a bowl of the freshest fruits in the center of the kitchen countertops. The air was clean and crisp, blowing through the cracked window over the sink. It was cooling and refreshing, the outsides sounds seeping into the calm quiet of the house.

“They’re here!” My youngest shouted, heavy elephant feet stampeding down the stairs in pure excitement. I felt my own feet pick up from under me to jog outside. Summer was beginning.

The familiar silver car sat parked out by the bushes in the front, the engine still cooling and the sound of the car shutting off echoing through the area. The wheels moved from side to side, leaning closer to the ground to help give as the four missing pieces of Cousins announced their arrival.

Steven was the first to let his presence be known. His long, scrawny body stretching up after a long drive, an exaggerated groan becoming dragged out to truly emphasize how long their trip was. Jeremiah barely let him step away from the car before they were messing around, his arms wrapped around Steven in a welcoming hold. Their catching up was loud and joyful, jokes spewing off of their tongues without any extra effort.

Belly and Laurel came next, piling out of opposite sides of the car. Belly had occupied the passengers seat and Laurel the back right one. Both skipped the long stretch and made their way closer to their respected friends.

It was when Belly started making her way over to Jeremiah and Steven, giving an excited wave that I saw just how much she had changed. Her hair was longer, straighter. It fell just below her chest, shiny and thick. Her eyes seemed to sparkle brighter than last summer and her teeth had finally straightened enough to ditch the braces. It seemed like she was the center of attention for everyone because of these changes. Jeremiah swooning, hearts of eyes and Steven choosing to react in pure disgust, their playful teasing died down behind Laurels approaching voice.

“This has been a long time coming.” She sighed contently, arms already wrapping around me, feet in lifting from side to side to away smoothly. My hands rubbed along her back. She pulled away after a moment, observing the area, watching our kids. I saw her eyebrows furrow in confusion, almost like she was sad. I knew what it was.

Even in all this happiness, in all the reuniting and teasing, two very vital people remained missing. Y/n and Conrad.

While Belly and Jeremiah had an unbreakable bond that could carry any room, it never was really complete without Conrad and Y/n. To put it simply, even if Belly and Jeremiah were as great as they could be, Conrad and Y/n were the blueprint. They were the glue. No summer was truly starting until they were doing something irresponsible or stupid. One of them in a coughing fit, the other laughing themselves into one.

My lips drew themselves into a tight lipped smile, eyes finding the sky above. I swallowed. The words were in the tip of my tongue, the confession about what was happening with Conrad. What I believed was happening. I was getting ready to spill my guts about why Conrad wasn’t rushing out here. How he had been off all summer, and it was like he could hear me.

“Conrad!” The car door swung open so fast, I thought it might’ve snapped off with the force of it. It shook the car, slamming even harder than it had opened. The voice, still as sweet as I remember it being, belonged to Y/n.

She looked exasperated, hair a mess, cheeks flushed. Like she’d just woken up from a messy sleep. Her lips were bitten raw, and her shirt hung off her shoulder, unlike Belly’s that fit perfectly. But she was a ray of sunshine. She glowed like the brightest star in the sky. Her smile was infectious, spreading onto my best friend and I’s faces subconsciously. She truly captured the essence of pure happiness, the one I wanted so badly to feel this summer.

Heavy footsteps grew louder and louder behind me until a gust of wind was passed, the footsteps meeting their owner. Conrad, the moody, hurting boy who was completely shut away just hours ago was now running into the arms of his best friend. Of the girl he loved most.

They connected in the middle, the force of it making Y/n squeak. It didn’t stop them from tangling themselves up like they always seemed to do, Conrad’s back bent backwards and Y/n’s feet of the ground. They spun in circles, laughing the entire time. Even being limited to short glances at Conrad’s face while they spun, I could see the light in his face returning. The way his cheeks turned pinker and his eye bags seemed to get less heavy. He would never admit it, but it looked like he had gotten ready for her arrival. He no longer wore a plain grey zip up and old stained sweatpants. He wore Y/n’s favorite blue shirt he owned and matching shorts. She claimed he looked his best in that shirt because it fit him so well. Not too tight, but not too loose. He looked out together enough to go anywhere, but could remain comfortable. She’d even gone so far last summer to say it made him look handsome, something she confessed while drunk, clinging into her best friend and giggling under her breath.

I knew Conrad would never admit he chose the shirt just because he remembered that specific moment, but it was fairly obvious. At least to me. He always had the ability to pinpoint specific events, precise moments that involved something Y/n had done or said. He knew what she hated and what she loved. He put in more effort to make her see him than anyone else I’d ever known. It was endearing to see how much he cared for her.

More than that, it was like a storm had passed, Conrad’s grumpy attitude dissolving into one of pure sunshine and playfulness. He held no fear with her. Everything he did, everything he said, he knew it could be said with confidence. She was the one thing in this world he never felt ashamed to say what he needed to around. The only thing he never shared, his feelings. How he was so in love with her, his summers became dedicated solely to seeing her every second he could.

Secret sleepovers, long bonfire nights and early mornings on the beach. There was not more than a few hours that they weren’t together everyday. It was disappointing to see how he couldn’t share that, as Y/n so clearly felt the same for him.

Her eyes always looking for his face in a crowded room, her hands reaching out to feel he was there constantly. She needed him in more ways anyone could ever need a friend, she showed it, but they somehow always managed to shut down these feelings behind their insecurities of being wrong.

Jeremiah didn’t even get a chance to make his way over to talk with Y/n before she was being led away by his older brother, feet struggling to keep up behind him while he dragged her into the house. The thumping of their feet hitting the stairs sounded through the front door, their laughter and yelling echoing down the hall until his door slammed to a shut. I couldn’t help but laugh, Laurels own giggles stifled underneath mine. It was so obvious how much they cared for each other, yet so frustrating that they never acted on it.

The two of them always chased and chased, no aware that they were both aiming for the same thing. It was sweet to see puppy love like that. One so pure that they couldn’t even admit the feelings they so strongly felt for each other. Something they’d held since childhood, living in complete oblivion since.

The sun was high in the sky, a bright burning ball sizzling it’s mark into all of our skin. I could practically see Conrad’s shoulders peeling beneath its strong rays already. I had warned him to put on a rash guard, knowing he wouldn’t reapply. But he was so excited to catch up to Y/n, my words fell deaf on his ears. She was already out in the water with Belly and Steven, splashing around, laughter echoing as she grabbed what looked like mounds of wet sand from the bottom of the ocean to cover Belly with.

“Connie, you’re going to regret it later.” I had said, all to familiar with the distant sounds of his whining in the middle of the night. Conrad’s back sore and the aloe vera sticking to the warm sheets. But in that moment, the cringe worthy memory seemed to slip his mind as nothing was more important than getting to Y/n. He waved me off, promising to be careful but not really meaning it.

They were out there for hours that day. The waves were calm and the seaweed was relatively clear. The two of them, Y/n and Conrad, spent the perfect conditions submerged so deep into the water that when they reached land again, they complained how their legs felt like jelly. Conrads shoulders were bright red, torched by the beach day. I could see how they ached, just like I had said they would. Y/n’s cheeks and forehead were tinted a harsh red but she seemed completely unaware. Unbothered.

Conrad had pointed out how she had freckles on her face she didn’t have before. It was obvious how he thought she was beautiful, even then. I guess looking back on that memory, it was more clear that even at such a childish age, Conrad somehow always managed to pay the most attention to Y/n. Always the most observant of her tiniest details and mannerisms. Things he hadn’t even thought about in the others.

I didn’t let them sleep upstairs that night. I made sure to proclaim my love to them, but made it known I cherished my sleep more. Really, it was their own fault. Conrad had been warned to take precautions and those were blatantly ignored by the both of them.

I remember this day not because of how great the morning was, the summer breeze blowing in all its glory, but because of how the night had turned out to be.

The clocks hands were just passing the point that separated the late night and early morning. My blankets I had left for the kids spread across the large couch. The blankets were sticking to Conrads back and the aloe was rubbing off with each movement he made. I knew he was trying to muffle his whines, not wanting to be a bother, not wanting to wake his tired mother. I still heard it, and the rolling around became constant listening to the faint complaints from downstairs. It felt impossible to settle down at the time for Conrad, the soft melodic ticking of the kitchen clock only a reminder to how late the night was growing. Of how much time he had left before he was expected to be up and enjoying the day again. I remember feeling hopeless for him, he felt like crying.

It was the soft touch of fingers curling over his biceps carefully that pulled him from his descent into madness and silenced his cries. If it were anyone else, the sudden feeling of skin on skin would’ve scared him, sent him running upstairs into my arms like always. But the sensation was one he knew well. That and the shiny blue nail polish on her nails.

“Conrad, what’s wrong?” Her voice was soft, worrisome. It almost made him feel insecure, stupid in how he was getting ready to enter fourth grade and still couldn’t get over the ache of a stupid sunburn. Conrad should’ve felt pathetic, in his eyes. If it were Belly, or Steven or even Jere, he probably would’ve. But this was Y/n. His best friend! He knew he had nothing to be embarrassed about with her, she would never judge him.

“Is it your sunburn again?” She knew the answer, but always wanted to make sure. All it took was the slow nod of his head for her to lift herself off of the makeshift bed she’d made on the couch, the soft padding of her sock clad feet becoming more distant the farther she went into the house. In that moment, he felt confused, wondering if she was leaving him too. If his whining was even too much for her.

But, no. She came back with more aloe vera. A new bottle from the very back of the fridge. Conrad remembered how gentle she was when putting it on his back for him. It was feathery light, pressure changing depending on how severe the burn was. Even at such a young age, Y/n knew just what Conrad needed to make him feel better. It was like her sixth sense. Conrad had told me that morning, his heart couldn’t help but warm at that idea. That she had a special power just for him. He described it like waking up from a hazy dream.

A realization dawning on him after it had been forming for years. Y/n wasn’t just some girl Conrad enjoyed spending all my time with because she was simply just his best friend, but because deep down he loved her more than that. He knew he always felt something for her. Even when we were toddlers. The way she always shared with him, stuck by his side. At the time, Conrad acted annoyed by her presence, but he always secretly loved having her so close. He babbled about it in his sleep. He would slur how he felt safer, warmer, happier. Even his dumb little fourth grade self could see that those feelings weren’t ones someone had for a best friend. Those were feelings reserved for someone you loved. He knew then that he had always loved Y/n, now was just the first time he confronted those feelings.

When the sun rose, I was met with a goopy mess spilling all over the coffee table and a shiny back and Y/n’s wet hand. I could put the pieces together, but back then, Conrad made sure I didn’t have to.

That morning, while Y/n showered to get ready for the day, he went into depth about what had happened that led to the mess. How he felt, what was happening. At the time, I believed it was merely a small crush that he amounted to true love because he had never felt love before, but the longer I observed the pair, the more obvious it became that my little boy was in love with his best friend.

For Y/n, the day of realization came much later.

I remember the day clearly. Laurel and I had been insisting on a much needed a girls day, folding twenties into Conrad and Y/n’s palms and placing them in charge of the younger siblings of the bunch. Conrad being the oldest Fisher and Y/n the eldest Conklin, it wasn’t unusual that we would place our trust in them, tasking them with the job of keeping everyone in check for a day.

They’d decided to go to the boardwalk, the day too beautiful to not enjoy it. When arriving, the group had agreed to split up and conquer. Conrad would take Belly to the ring toss and Y/n would take Jeremiah and Steven to the go-karts. Everyone would meet back up in two hours for ice-cream and swap groups.

Y/n spent nearly all her money that day on those stupid go-karts. She’d only ridden them once, but Jeremiah and Steven kept begging to go again, again and again. Y/n was always such a softy, despite her confident exterior. Especially when it came to her younger friends. She couldn’t say no to them, they were just too convincing. When they met back up as a group, she complained, having a headache from the loud engines of the ride. She had eight dollars left in her pocket. Conrad had a large smile on his face and a polar bear named, Junior Mint, held loosely in his arms that he’d won after Belly begged him for it.

The looks on their faces made Y/n jealous, in a way. A feeling she knew shouldn’t be feeling when the situation involved her sister and her best friend. Two people she adored more than life itself. But Y/n, no matter how compassionate and understanding as she might be, like the rest of us, can’t control how we feel. We can only control how we reflect them.

“You have fun on the go-karts?” Conrad, who had somehow sensed her bad mood, had made race car sounds with his mouth, holding his arms out in front of him like he was turning a steering wheel in an attempt to lift it. Y/n’s hand hit his chest playfully, feet dragging along the wooden floor beneath their feet.

“The most.” She lied to him then, she wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was because she didn’t want him to feel bad for leaving her alone. She wanted him to be able to enjoy his day without having to worry about someone else.

When the time came to pay for their ice cream, it became apparent that the left over eight dollars would not be enough for three of the ice creams. Jeremiah and Steven insisted on getting the largest sizes possible, resulting in a grand total of almost the entire budget. Even if Y/n got a kiddy cup, she wouldn’t have enough to spend for a third cup.

Holding the money in her hands and looking back at the excited boys behind her, Y/n felt responsible to keep them that way. Happy. After all, she was the oldest. It was her job to look after them. To put their happiness above her own. She spent all her money on what they wanted that day, walking over to the table they’d picked over in the shade empty handed, disappointed in the lack of a cold treat to snack on after a long day.

Everyone was sat across from her, the table full of everyone except Conrad, who was ordering for him and Belly. Y/n’s hands became the most interesting thing to her for a brief period of time. The peeling paint on the table a good distraction from her two friends stuffing their faces with something she so desperately wanted.

“One vanilla ice cream cone for Belly!” She heard Conrad’s voice before I saw him. Her younger sisters eyes practically formed into hearts when he placed the dessert in front of her. He continued to announce the order.

“One mint chip for me and…” Conrad slipped a cup of mint chip ice cream in front of her next, the spoon lime green to match the melting treat below her.

“One for Y/n/n!” He sat beside Y/n then, mixing around the green ice cream until it turned into mush. Y/n lifted her eyes from the table to his face. It was stuffed with his own treat, a satisfied smirk directed towards his best friend. Y/n’s mouth was parted open, stuck like that for the longest time. It was only when Conrad had motioned at the ice cream that she realized it was still under the very hot sun, and melting more now.

With a silent whisper of a thank you, Y/n let the gift cool her down. It tasted sweeter knowing it was from Conrad, Y/n had confessed to me that night. Knowing that he cared enough to know how sad she would be to have been the only one without ice cream to finish off a fun afternoon.

He was always so sweet to her, always going out of his way to make sure she was included in everything. He didn’t have to, but he liked too. That’s what made Y/n like him the most. It didn’t matter what was happening, or who was involved. If Y/n was there, Conrad would be stuck to her side like glue, just like she was to him. He had some magic spell over her that no one else could even come close to.

Conrad always had a way to cheer her up, make Y/n feel like the most special person in the world. She never felt ashamed to be my most vulnerable self around him. He made her heart beat faster, her cheeks flush pink. He made Y/n feel pretty, wanted. More than that, Conrad never failed to give her butterflies.

These were all things she could connect with things someone could have with a best friend, someone close to them. She could convince myself as well as herself it was nothing more than that. Conrad was only a friend to her, but she couldn’t lie to herself anymore than she could lie to me.

Deep down, Y/n always knew she loved Conrad differently than everyone else. She could recognize his laugh anywhere, Y/n knew he had a lucky pair of socks and a least favorite pair of underwear. She knew he liked to part his hair down the middle, but how it trailed off to the left the further back it grew because he used to have a side part when he was younger. Y/n knew his glasses gave him a headache and how he didn’t really mind the feeling of sand stuck in his skin after a beach day. These were all things Y/n would’ve never given a second thought about with anyone else, but things her heart held onto like a prayer because it was Conrad.

Slowly but surely, she came to terms with my feelings developed for Conrad, ones I’d known about vaguely for years as the pair grew closer and closer each passing second since Conrad’s own revelations. Only, before, Y/n used to downplay them as a small crush. One she was developing because he was a boy and she was a teenage girl. She believed was supposed to feel like this, it would pass. But it wasn’t, and sometimes it felt to her like it never would. It grew more and more painfully obvious that Y/n’s feelings were so much more than that, and being in that moment then only solidified that fact. Y/n was in love with Conrad Fisher, her best friend, her world.

We were cuddled up on the couch when she talked to me about the day, the way her senses seemed to point overwhelmingly towards Conrad. I could’ve told her then that my son loved her just the same back, and maybe then they would’ve pulled together like a strong magnet, but I wanted them to find each other. They deserved to realize that through their own actions, not mine. So for years after that final confession, I sat here beside my own best friend wondering along with her when they would finally find each other.

“It’s cat and mouse with them every summer.” I sighed, holding my cup of coffee close to my chest. The warmth of the steam coming off of it warmed my skin in the cool July evening.

Laurel laughed beside me, her own mug clutched in her hands as well, we mirrored each other in looking out towards the back yard where Y/n and Conrad ran around in the grass with a deflated football. The smiles on their faces were vibrant, bright. Ones that only came out when they were together. They had that power over each other, to lift each other up. To make the others heart beat fast.

It was as clear as day what our oldest children felt for each other. No amount of deflections or excuses could hide the blush on their cheeks and the way their touches lingered for just a moment longer than friends should. They knew more about each other than anyone else because they cared too much to not know. It was pure and refreshing to see young love like this, even if neither of them knew what they had yet.

“When do you think they’ll realize what they have?” Laurel asked sincerely, her face turning to watch how my expression changed throughout my answer. She usually never played into my ideas, always being the more logical of the two of us, but this was the one thing we could agree on.

“With our luck, never.” We laughed, Laurels head falling to rest on my shoulder affectionately. We let out a synchronized sigh, allowing a beat of silence to pass.

“I’m sure they’ll find their way, they always do.” My hand rubbed my best friends arm in reassurance, my head settling on top of hers. I rested my weight on her, feeling more tired now that the day was ending.

It was almost comical, how ironic the entire situation was. The two oldest, smartest, strongest of the bunch, the ones who, other than Steven, had been the only ones to successfully apply and get into some of the top schools in the country, even with their brains, couldn’t figure out just how badly they wanted each other. Not even when it was dangled right in front of them.

I partially blamed myself. It was me who had ingrained the title, best friends, into their heads. With each time they were spotted together, with everything they set off to do together, I’d always stuck their names together with those two words. Even when it became more and more obvious that they were falling into each other in a way that crossed the line that divided platonic and romantic, it was always the two of them. The younger Laurel and Susannah. The next generation of best friends.

Conrad never managed to catch Y/n’s longing glances, and Y/n always seemed to just miss the way his hands held onto her in ways he didn’t with anyone else. He held her in ways best friends weren’t supposed to.

Lingering touches that mirrored her stares, fingers twitching, begging to be interlocked. Conrad spoke his feelings to her in acts of service, winning her prizes, helping her with her homework, reading to her when she had headaches, even when she was insufferable because she kept groaning. It was also in physical touch. His cologne practically stuck to her clothes permanently with all the excuses he could find to just touch her in one way or another. Y/n seemed to constantly be trying to relay the same in her own acts of service and physical touch. Holding the door, cooking him his favorite desserts without Conrad even asking, resting her head in his lap during movie night. Both slotting together to mesh perfectly, but their ignorance keeping them apart. If I were any less mature, I would’ve yelled at them to hurry up, I wouldn’t be here forever and I’d like to see my special kids happy before I went.

“What are you thinking about, Beck?” My own best friend asked softly, her head still under mine. I squeezed her arm, feeling sure that one day they would get together.

“How happy they’ll be once they realize what they have.” It went silent, but I knew my best friend. I could sense her tight lipped smile, eyes squinting and nose scrunching. He lifted her head from my shoulder slowly, her hand resting on my lower back.

“Why don’t we settle down for the night?” I wanted to fight her, I wanted to enjoy the calmness of the summer evening. The way our children were just what they needed to be, kids. No matter their age, still able to enjoy the simplicity that the summer home had to offer. But Laurel was right, I was feeling sluggish and if I didn’t rest soon, the couch would be my bed for the night. So I nodded, leaving the image of Y/n pinned under Conrad, his hands wiggling by her sides in an attempt to make her squirm and their laughter to be the last thing I would remember before I fell asleep.

“Con.” My voice was soft, the grass wet under our backs, dirt on our skin. He turned his head to face me, a lazy smile on his face. His eyes were all hazy, clouded by both tiredness and something unreadable that consumed his facial expression.

“Hm.” He hummed, eyes searching my face, lighting up when they settled on my own. I could feel the hair on his arms brush against mine, hands curled up, an indication of how close we truly were. Always just out of reach. My fingers twitched against the back of his hand, aching to be intertwined with his. My eyes flicked to his lips out of habit, breath hitching.

When I looked back to meet his eyes, I found the once playful look replaced with serious stare, burning straight into my head. He seemed stiff, nervous in a way. My cheeks flamed up in embarrassment. He must’ve seen the way I couldn’t pull my gaze from his lips. I breathed out.

“It’ll always be like this, right?” It wasn’t what I wanted to say, what I meant to ask. But in that moment, it was all I could manage. A simply vague question that held so much depth. I hoped he’d say yes, that we’d always be this close, not that we’d always be best friends. Selfishly, I hoped he said we would be more. That we could be so much more.

“You and me, always.” I felt the way his arm shifted from beside me, linking his own hands together over his chest and breathing out. He pulled his attention back to the sky, where the clouds moved faster than they did in June. The summer was ending.

“I wish it could be summer forever.” Feeling awkward being the only one to still be looking at him, I too turned to face the sky. Biting my lip, my eyes shut to imagine it was the beginning of the three wonderful months we had together.

I wished that I could have Conrad forever. That it wasn’t just some summer love that I would have to sit idly on as the seasons changed to a colder, more lonely winter. That Conrad and I could do all the things we always talked about over the phone together. Our cheeks would be rosy with the nip of the frosty weather and not because the sun had burnt us into a delirious mess. Groaning on the couch as we wasted our days away.

“Distance makes the heart grow fonder, Y/n/n.” He joked. Only, the way he said he sounded completely honest. Like he wasn’t joking. He said things like that a lot now. Things that were awfully romantic for someone who swore that we were platonic to all of our friends. It pulled in my heartstrings a little each time one of the phrases would slip. A source of joy for my daydreams to run on for the next few hours. If I were any more delusional, I would’ve told him how I felt about his jokes out loud. But I wasn’t, so I held them in. I let my heart face and my breathing quicken in silence.

“I hope you’ll be just as fond of me when you see me next, then.” I rolled to my side, countering his joke. I heard him laugh. My hands tucked under my head like a pillow and my legs bent at the knee. I made myself smaller next to him.

As our giggles died out, so did his interest in the clouds. He mirrored my position, hands under his head, legs bent up. Our knees touched, radiating a warmth that bounced between our body heat. My eyes were focused on him, but I was spacey. Thinking of just how long we’d be apart. It hurt my heart, I didn’t care if I would grow fonder of him. I didn’t think that was even possible with how much I loved him now.

“What’s running through that head if yours, Y/n/n.” His hand came up, pointer finger delicately tapping the top of my nose. I scrunched it under his touch, so light it tickled. My reaction made him smile again, even after his hand had returned back under his head.

“Thinking about how fondly I’ll think of you next June.” There were some things you just cannot speak about, can not share. I would never share what I was truly thinking about that day. How I was so stuck in my own feelings for him that I couldn’t even bare the thought of not having him beside me. That my heart deflated at just the mere mention of the winter because the only person I ever wanted to be around would be taken away from me.

Conrad’s laugh was weaker this time, smile fading into a smaller one but it was just as happy.

“I hope you’re already pretty fond of me, then.” I returned his smile then, the crinkle by my eyes moving a strand of hair into my face. It tickled my nose again, but I didn’t scrunch it. Too focused on Conrad so close to care.

Before I could respond, I felt the softness of his hand brushing across my face and tucking the strand behind my ear. He did it so gently, like I would break if he wasn’t.

“I am.” It came out breathy now that his touch was on me. He didn’t remove his hand from my face then. Instead, it felt more like he was molding his palm to fit my jawline. He cupped my face in his hand and just admired me. Eyes flickering around until they met my now moony gaze.

It was like some force was pulling us closer, then. Conrad’s face getting closer and closer, little by little. I couldn’t tell who was leaning in. It could’ve been me, but I was almost sure it was him. My eyelashes fluttered, fighting the instinct to close them. I heard how his breath hitched, I felt my own do the same. This was something I had always dreamed of happening, it felt unreal that now out of all times it would happen. I always dreamed of kissing Conrad in the beach, or the old dock where we used to play. Maybe even in the pool where we’d hold our fake Olympic competitions. But here we sat, on the grass, his breath fanning my face.

His head turned little by little, getting ready to connect our lips finally. The squeaky glass door slid open, and by some bad luck, it was enough to scare us into a more distant position. We sat up, now more than just inches away, searching the backyard for who had opened it.

Steven had been the culprit, having forgotten something on the small table outside. Looking beyond the pool, he found Conrad and I, red as can be, eyes wandering around and waved.

“I’ve been looking for you two! Belly wants to have one last movie night. Jeremiah’s making popcorn. Y/n, you’re on blanket duty!” He was completely oblivious to the tension between us. Of how my cheek, right where Conrad had been touching me was burning. How in my mind, it felt like he had left a mark with how hot it felt. I cleared my mind, shaking it off and looking to Conrad almost disappointedly.

To my surprise, he seemed perfectly fine, like nothing had just happened. He sprung to his feet, in fact, completely able to move on and ignore it. Maybe I had read it wrong. Maybe he wasn’t trying to kiss me. Of course I was, it would be stupid to believe that my best friend could really possess some sort of feelings for me. I had simply made it up, tricked my mind into believing it was true because I longed for him too much.

When his hands met mine to held me up, it felt like fire. Flames burning into my hands at how badly I wanted him. If he didn’t care, than I shouldn’t either. My stupid feelings shouldn’t weight down the last hours we’d spend together. It shouldn’t dictate how the last night will go.

I put on a brave smile, sticking a bandaid over the wound over my heart. I bled out on the couch, all over anyone near me. My smile false, heart heavy. I forced myself to forget it and as the movie grew longer and longer, it left my mind completely. Eyebrows feeling lighter, the burning in my throat releasing itself into a soothing sensation. It would be my last memory of the summer that truly stuck. How close I had gotten to Conrad, and how quickly he had slipped away. How wrong I was about how he felt. How hurt I was for believing it could be different.

What I didn’t know then was how he felt the same. How his mind was swirling with the what if’s and the same disappointment I felt. How my fake smile had tricked him into believing it meant nothing to me, like I didn’t understand the weight of the situation at all. He didn’t know how I was breaking inside at how he didn’t seem to care, because he was feeling the same. My own act was tricking him, allowing Conrad to believe just what I thought of him. That I did not care for him like he did with me. That his feelings weren’t reciprocated. It was a dance between us. Chasing in a circle to get the other attention, to figure out what was happening between us. Completely unaware that if we would just turn around, we’d find what we do desperately longed for. The other chasing the same thing. We let the incident go by the morning, pretending that whatever happened was all a dream. And just like that, we were what we had always been. Best friends.

The news came early in the morning. The sun hadn’t fully crossed the horizon yet and there was still dew on the lawn. I was alone then, away at college. The constant calls from my mother waking me up. But it was the one from Conrad that I answered somehow.

“Hello?” My voice was full of sleep, confused as to why my mom was calling me so early. I had an eight am that morning, I had my alarms set. It was all so confusing, hazy.

“Y/n.” His voice was shaky, weak. It woke me up quickly. Conrad was never like this, at least not over the phone. Occasionally he would breakdown around me. The tears always stung. So full of emotion, so overwhelmed to the point he couldn’t keep it together. All it took was someone to ask if he was really okay to tip him over the edge. To open the flood gates. It only happened at the worst of times, it was alarming that it was happening now.

“Conrad, are you okay? What happened?” I knew something bad had to have happened. This wasn’t simply just him calling because of how much he missed me. Those calls came later at night on FaceTime, his voice light and playful each time. This was heavy, I couldn’t see him, he was hiding behind the phone call. I knew it had to be bad, already packing a bag as he spoke. The phone was pressed to my ear by my shoulder and head, I worked on stuffing as much of my clothes in as possible. I made sure to scribble a note down to let my roommate know I was leaving and would be back in a few days.

“It’s my mom.” The world stopped in that moment. I knew I had to get to him even quicker now, I knew he needed me to talk to him, to walk him through his grief but the news was so heavy, my hands stopped working. I froze, unable to do anything but pray that it was some sick prank.

“What?” It came quiet, I wasn’t sure if he even heard me. She wasn’t my mom by birth, I didn’t carry the same relationship to her as Conrad did. I didn’t see her everyday for hours, but in some way she was my second mother. She taught me to ride a bike, how to bake a cake. I learned how to read from her, her name was the first word out of my mouth. She was the grounding in my life. The one person I trusted to share everything because it was likely she’d already been through it. She understood like a mother, helped me grow as one. Her death would leave an empty hole in my heart for eternity, I was sure.

I heard Conrad take a shaky breath, holding it while he tried to piece together what he had to say. What I deserved to know.

“It happened this morning, just an hour ago. I wasn’t going to call so soon but, I thought you deserved to know. She was special to you, so…” He tried to keep it together, I could feel it. I could hear it. How his breaths caught in his throat, the quiet stutter beneath his words.

“Conrad, I…” In looking for all the words I wanted to say, to tell him it would be okay with, I came up short. Unable to make some sense as to what was happen.

“You don’t have to say anything. We all knew it was coming soon.” He dismissed my struggle, knowing that if it were hitting this hard on his end, he could imagine that I wouldn’t take it very week either.

“Yes but Con, that doesn’t make it any better.” I ran a hand through my hair, placing the phone tightly between my shoulder blade and my ear. I began to pack again.

“Do you need me to come down to Boston?” I would’ve come down on my own, would’ve held him like a brother, protected him from the world, the reality of it all. But it was a delicate situation. I had to walk on eggshells, unsure of what was best. I had never lost a relative before, never endured the pain of not having a mother. Never seeing her again like how the Fisher brothers just had. I didn’t know if it was best to stay or go.

“No, no.” Though it sounded like he was lying, like part of him wanted me to just be there, his words were firm, exhausted. If he wanted me there, I would come, but I would not intrude when times were so tough.

The line went quiet for a moment, I can still hear the static ringing through my head even now. How the line went just as quiet as the dorms when everyone was asleep. I could feel the hot liquid trailing down my cheeks, the tightening of my chest becoming more rapid the longer we both stayed quiet.

“Listen, I’ll call you later when I know more, okay?” I nodded my head, only realizing a moment later he couldn’t see me. I took in a deep breath.

“Okay, yeah.” He mumbled a quick goodbye, hanging up the phone and leaving me alone to grieve. The once cheerful morning turned grey with sadness, clouds looming as a reminder to the sunshine we had lost that morning. The dew turned into mud and the plants wilted. My bag was packed in minutes after the call ended, bag slung over my shoulder.

Conrad didn’t want me there, and that was fine. But my mother was at home, sitting with only two thirds of her family who were probably all unaware besides her. If Conrad didn’t need my shoulders to lean on, my mother did. She knew Susannah longer and truer than any of us had. The pain she must be carrying could only be indescribable to her. So if I wasn’t leaving for the Fishers, I was for her.

I never got that call from Conrad, not even a text. As I laid in my childhood bedroom, eyes glued to the ceiling and the silence of the household drowning me in my own self isolation, I didn’t even wonder why. For the first time, my life didn’t revolve around Conrad, on how he was doing, what he was doing. I didn’t miss him anymore. Not because the hurt of him not being here was any less, but because the pain of his mother never coming back being worse. It canceled out and an extreme numbness took over. I felt nothing. I had cried all my tears, screamed into my pillow until my voice gave away. My knuckles hurt from how hard I gripped the steering wheel on the way home. I had already lost it and now I had nothing else to give.

…

The funeral was a week later. Not much time to process such a heavy loss. Adam wanted me to speak at the funeral, he knew how much Susannah meant to me, but I couldn’t do it. Walking up to the podium, I couldn’t say her name. Even if it were just a practice run. My voice ran dry, eyes wet. Staring at her photo by the alter, all I could do was shake my head. I felt ashamed that I couldn’t do what her husband wanted for her. I felt embarrassed I couldn’t help the family who was going through so much still. They claimed they understood, but the guilt loomed.

We sat three rows behind them. Strangers separating us. It made me angry. If not us, the ones who spent hours on hours together, at least my mother deserved to be sitting in the front row with the Fishers. She was a sister to Susannah. She was just as much of a family as they were. I kept my mouth shut, my eyes down. The family took turns speaking, each sentence summarizing her in the most beautiful way possible. Some old friends spoke in her honor too. It felt wrong then, how people who barely knew her could stand up there and act like she was their greatest gift.

When it was Conrad’s turn, he sung a song. In his pain, his voice failed him. Wavering and breaking through the song. He apologized, looking out into the crowd he met my eyes. I wanted to look away, not wanting him to see me so broken when I should be the one supporting him. But by looking into my eyes, even as teary and red as they were, he grounded himself. By the time he finished, the venue was silent, soft cries echoing from the back rows. Nobody acknowledged them out of the fear that it would cause them to breakdown again.

The silence carried over to the Fishers Boston home. Other than the adults mingling and the quiet chatter of Jeremiah and Steven, the room felt empty. It felt like a depressing party, one that was about Susannah, yet excluded her from it.

It was tiring, the whole experience. Always trying to catch up with how quickly everyone else was getting over it. I felt like a dead weight compared to Steven and Belly, who had already started coming to terms with it. I was the only one left living in denial. The only one still dreaming of epiphany’s to make some sense of it. To make the heartache more bearable.

I wore the dark eye bags and my salt tears like a tattoo, ones that had been permanently stained on my face since the news broke. It was obvious I wasn’t doing well. I had planned to go back to school after the funeral, seeking a clean space to cope. To get away from the constant reminders of what could no longer be.

Jeremiah said I looked too weak to be driving myself to school tonight. He set up the guest room for me, decorating it just as his mother used to. Even in my protests he managed to convince me. He told me how it was more for him than it was for me. How having me close made him feel better because it was like gaining a piece of him family back. Like having an older sister come home from college.

After that, I kept mainly to myself. Finding the emptiest rooms and sticking to them. I hid my face in my knees, soft cries coming in waves until I had nothing left to cry for. Alone, I sat in the darkness until the soft chatter died out and all distractions became a heavy peace.

“You should get to bed soon, Conrad, it’s getting late.” I forgot all about him, I realized. Not once having checked on him. It was only Adams soft suggestion reminding me of the other brother, who was probably taking the funeral even harder than his younger brother. Wiping my cheeks with the backs of my hands, I waited until the choking breaths turned into quiet sniffles. Until everything felt calmer, more collected to see him. I wanted to be able to be there for Conrad, even when I wasn’t doing okay either. I wanted to—no. I needed to be strong for him.

I knew where he was, I could see the frame of his back hunched over on the couch. Head hung low and hands fidgeting around anxiously. It made me nervous.

I took the time to go downstairs then, only after I was sure everybody else had filed out of the house, leaving it looming with an eerie emptiness. There were leftovers on the table, one serving left, the rest already in the refrigerator. Adam had already cleaned away any evidence of Susannah’s death.

Taking what was left, I put it on a paper plate. My own stomach rumbled, being empty, but the starving feeling felt better than feeling nothing at all. I knew Conrad hadn’t eaten in hours, cemented to his place on the couch, he needed to eat. It could be considered a peace offering, a kind gesture. Something to maybe lift his spirits.

My hands were shaky, so I had to hold his plate with both hands. I leaned against the wall when I went back upstairs, I didn’t trust my footing anymore. I had to stop halfway up, take a deep breath and pull it together. Conrad needed me, I had to be there. I wanted to be there.

It was a soft knock that pulled me from my descent into a bottomless pit of sadness. My mind shook its self free, eyes fighting consciousness. I was ready to snap, irritated at my dads efforts of trying to move me from where I found some sort of comfort. Really, it wasn’t his fault. He was only a concerned father who wanted to help his son. But I wanted none of it. I wanted even more now than when my mom was alive to be as distant from him as possible. Unforgiving of his horrible mistakes that caused my mom so much pain.

The soft voice that spoke wasn’t one that belonged to my father, not even my brother who had a sweet voice saved specifically for moments like these. To ease the tension, calm everyone down. No, it was like honey. So sweet and gentle. So easy to listen to. I longed to hear more.

“Con?” It belonged to Y/n. My Y/n. The only person I hadn’t really seen all day. The only person I wanted to see all day. Instead, she had spent it making everyone happy with her. Tending to Jeremiah’s wish, staying with us overnight. Giving a loving hand to hold for Belly and Steven, calming down her younger sisters uneven cries and her brothers panicked breathing. She tried to get her mother to open up, but Laurel was like me. Stubborn. Even with her best efforts, she was locked out, leaving her to seek solace in the less crowded rooms upstairs. I wanted to come see her, but my feet no longer worked. My legs were jelly. I felt stuck to the couch. Too weak to keep moving.

I acknowledged her, mouth too dry to speak. She took it as a signal to sit down beside me. The plate in her lap was shaking like her. The food looked unappetizing, but I appreciated her effort. She pushed it towards me, a hand finding my back, she rubbed it like she had in the summer when I was drunk and clinging onto the toilet out of sickness.

Nodding my head, I accepted it only to place it on the table in front of me. I knew she knew I didn’t mean it as an insult, I just couldn’t eat right now. I just wanted her to hold me. I wanted to feel safe again.

So, I placed my head where I’d always wished I could. My ear pressed against her shoulder, hands glued to my lap, her arms wrapped around me out of instinct. It was so warm, so loving. It helped to heal the ache that was ripping through my heart slightly. My headache didn’t feel so severe with her close. She made everything better, just as she always did.

“Con, I’ve known you my whole life, you’re my best friend. You can talk to me. You can trust me, okay?” Her hands in my hair suddenly felt my poison. Little thorns poking into my scalp. The sour reminder that this hold, this closeness wasn’t reserved for me. I wasn’t hers, she wasn’t mine. It made me feel angrier than I should’ve. A mix of grief and disappointment mixing together into something she didn’t deserve. She was only trying to help.

Sighing heavily, I pulled myself away, standing up to create a distance that I knew she felt not only physically but mentally. A feeling of someone close to her becoming closed off to her, just as her mother had done earlier today. I couldn’t look at her. I’d spill everything.

“Conrad, no. Please don’t shut me out. Please, not now.” She was pleading with me, her voice shook slightly, it made my heart break a little, hearing how feeble she was feeling.

“Y/n, can you go please?” I didn’t mean what I said. I’d only done it out of my own petty desires. Hurting the girl I loved more than anything in this world out of my own selfishness. When we were both hurting the most. She didn’t say anything, but I imagined she must’ve shook her head. Her footsteps grew closer.

“No.” She choked out, “No, I’m not leaving you alone right now.” Y/n cared so much for me, she always did. She knew how to read me better than anyone else. She knew that even now when I was asking her to go, I didn’t mean it. I wanted her more than anything. Her knowing this overwhelmed me with a love that I misplaced, unable to cherish and welcome it due to my own selfish nature. Only ever knowing how to push away what was so graciously given to me. I decided to snap at her, make her leave.

“What do you get out of staying, Y/n?” My words were laced with venom, I turned around to speak to her now. Having already built up my walls to know I wouldn’t break. She was speechless, confused.

“I-I don’t…” She couldn’t find the words. Not expecting to be turned on so quickly when she was just trying to help, to be kind.

“God, you are so selfish. This is about you doing what makes you feel good, right? You don’t give a shit about me, Y/n.” I didn’t mean it. I knew Y/n was far from selfish. She was the most selfless person I knew. Always putting herself dead last to help everyone else thrive. She hated thinking she was one day going to be depicted as someone selfish, someone cruel. It was an insecurity I knew she had since childhood. So, in my own anger, I pointed my weapons at her deepest hurts.

“Con, no. That’s not true.” She was defeated now, lip quivering and face contorted into pure pain. I scoffed.

“You can’t even look me in the eyes when you say it. You don’t have to pity me just because my mom is dead.” I kept going, unable to stop now that I had started. I had already stabbed her, now I was only twisting the knife. I watched her eyes well up with tears, all glassy and red. Her lip quivered and her eyebrows pulled together.

“Fuck you Conrad!” It was unexpected. I hoped she would walk away, leave it be and blame it on my grieving, but I should’ve known better. Y/n was like me, stubborn. She was just as much of a fighter ad I was, kinder but full of anger just as I was.

“Susannah was as much of a mother to me as my own! You aren’t the only one grieving, asshole! I’m doing this because I care. I care Conrad, and I wish I didn’t because you don’t deserve it, but I do. And I’m afraid I always will. So…so don’t you disregard my sadness out of the spite of your own anger!” What started out so strong had faltered into a weak confession. She was looking at me in the eyes, finding it in herself to finally make eye contact, breaking the invisible barrier between us. We were chest to chest.

Even in her state, she was so beautiful. Like an Angel sent form heaven specifically for me. I couldn’t help the way my eyes searched her face. I felt confused, more overwhelmed now than ever.

A silence took over, heavy breathing turning into quiet huffs of air. Even, steady. We were so close, I could feel her body heat radiating onto me.

I opened my mouth to speak, I wanted to apologize but the words got stuck. I couldn’t convey what I wanted to tell her. How she meant the world to me, how she was the only person who I cared about more than anything. She was the only person I didn’t want to shut out, didn’t mean to shut out. I loved her more than anything I’ve ever loved and it hurt me to not be able to love her as more than a friend.

My fingers found her hand then, squeezing and pulling her fingers between my own. I held it there, by her side, trying to get her to understand. I heard her breath hitch, saw her eyes find my lips. They flickered back up to my face. I needed her badly then, I knew I couldn’t wait. She was right here, so willing to stay when I’d treated her so horribly. She saw right through me constantly, she stuck by me in my darkest storms.

I didn’t think about it when I did it. About how my leaning in, my effort to kiss her could’ve scared her away. I was blinded by want, by need. I forgot it takes two people to have something.

Y/n released a breath only to hitch it once again, moving back from where I leaned in, she lengthened the gap between us again. A soft whimper woke me up from my haze, her head shaking rapidly. She looked scared. But more than that, she looked guilty, hurt.

Susannah was dead, there was no way to avoid that fact. My mom was never coming back, and that alone broke everyone into tiny pieces. Knowing Y/n, I knew how complicated everything felt for her. She was grieving, hurting. Not even I could piece together what she was thinking.

“Connie.” Her second whimper of my name is the one that made me back away. It was then I saw what I had done. The girl I loved most was staring back at me with wide eyes, mouth open slightly and body shaking. More than that, she had tears streaming down her face rapidly. I had made Y/n cry. For the first time in my life, I had made my best friend cry.

My heart shattered at the realization. How I’d ripped her down, made her feel vulnerable and then went in to kiss her like it would cancel everything out. I moved back again, trying to find the right words to apologize with. A silence surrounded us, crickets and the late night breeze the only sounds filling the walls around us.

I watched her a step back, slightly faltering over the threshold of the doorframe. Her hand ripped away from mine quickly, leaving a burning feeling behind from where we were once connected. A pain that wasn’t real, but felt so. She began to walk backwards now, hands finding the hallways walls for support, her feet failing her.

“Y/n.” My voice was quiet, my feet cemented to the floor. She shook her head again, a sob racking through her body. It’s a sound I’d never heard before. One I hope to never hear again. I could see how panicked she was. How everything was just now catching up. Her feet move quicker now, seeing how I’m reaching out for her. She’s scared, how could she not be? We’d crossed a line that wasn’t meant to be crossed, one that was toed over during one of the most horrible moments of our lives.

She’s halfway down the stairs now, the thumping of her feet louder than the creaking of the stairs. Jeremiah sticks his head out at the sound, looking between her disappearing figure and my body stuck in the doorway. It’s then I realize she’s actually leaving. Not to find peace in the guest bedroom, but to go away for good. I’d pushed her away, why had I pushed her away?

I’m quick then, my feet finding the floor in front of me, I make a mad dash down the hall and around the old banister. It cried under my weight but I push through, desperate to reach her. I don’t care who I wake up, if my fathers mad. If he’d just finished crying himself to sleep. I’m shouting after Y/n, yelling her name like it’s the only word in my dictionary.

“Y/n!” My feet stopped at the beginning of the driveway. The space her car once occupied is gone, not even the distant sound of a car rushing down the street can be heard. She’s slipped away from me just as my mother had, leaving me completely alone.

I walked out to the street, trying to see if she had parked it elsewhere. She wouldn’t leave me, would she? Not after we’d promised we’d always be like this. So close, always together.

The street was empty, only the flickering street lights illuminating the dark streets. I felt defeated, broken. I had got what I intended for, but not what I wanted.

Y/n was gone like the wind, leaving me in the stillness of the night, overthinking everything that had led us to this tipping point. All the tension, all the build up just for the resolve to be our ending. I always dreamed of the day I could finally confess my feelings to her. Even if she didn’t reciprocate them, she would never be mean about it. We’d always be close, and that alone gave me comfort. Now, I wasn’t so sure. What should’ve brought us together in my head, the one thing I’d always dreamed about, had split us apart. It’s almost funny how it happened, when it happened. The two people I always saw myself standing next to for the rest of eternity gone within the same week. Unsure if seeing them again was even something that was possible.

In all the years I had ignored him, Conrad never stopped reaching out. Not until my Junior year. My phone was filled with unanswered messages that varied from topic to topic. He kept me updated even in my absence from his life, wanting to salvage the closeness we’d cherished when we were younger.

He told me how he was in therapy, a week later he told me how he’d stopped going. Not only because he felt like it was nearly impossible to open up to a complete stranger, but because going felt like another financial burden he was adding to his fathers long list of bills and soon to be debt. Conrad shared how day by day, the grief of losing his mother was getting easier to cope with. The happy memories of her having been around at some point fueling him each day. He felt grateful he even had the pleasure to know her so well. Call her his mother. He was going to school to become a doctor now, changing his major halfway through his freshman year because he wanted to help people going through what his mother was forced to endure. He wanted to save people, help them in ways he was never able to help Susannah. He had a good heart, an honest one. Yet, he never spoke of any new lovers in his life. He carried all these amazing qualities, but his heart still longed for me, the girl who had left and never looked back.

It had been just over three years since I’d walked away from Conrad. Three years since I’d seen him. I couldn’t even look at him through photos. I was grown now, but my heart still aches in the same childish way it did when the wound was fresh. He never brought up what happened after the funeral. It was like his attempt to kiss me didn’t exist, only adding to the hurt I felt. Only confirming what I believed from the beginning. Conrad Fisher hadn’t leaned in to kiss me because he loved me, he had done it because he was grieving and didn’t know how to feel. He didn’t love me like I loved him. He did it because I was always so easy. The lovesick fool who would do anything for him, even if it hurt me the most. Susannah had been so sure that he did love me the same, I almost believed her, but it was ignorant to buy into it when it was so obviously not there. Yet, I still felt a tingling sensation each time I looked back at his messages. I wondered if in the time he’d stopped talking to me, he’d found someone else to love and know like he did with me. I hoped that my replacement was beautiful, like a model on the cover of Vogue. I prayed she was smart and kind like Susannah. I hoped she was everything I wasn’t to him.

Deep down, I knew part of my attachment, my fixation on what he was up to was because of the messages. How no matter how wrong it felt, I continued to allow myself to be part of his life from a distance. Even if Conrad didn’t know it, I always cared. Always would. I told him that the day I left. It was fear that turned out to be true. A curse that kept me from finding that same love for anyone else. My heart belonged to Conrad Fisher, a boy who barely knew me anymore. A boy who I wasn’t even sure if I could consider a friend anymore. A boy I want to be able to call my friend again. I had been so resolute all these years in keeping to my word. That after that night, I would never come back. The last would stay just that, the past. It was never that easy.

Letting go of Conrad Fisher was more than only losing the love of my life. It was like throwing away the last pieces of a Susannah. Sure, I still talked to Jeremiah quite frequently. Our phone calls lasted for hours, he never failed to make me smile. But he didn’t have Susannah’s eyes. He didn’t have her blonde hair or her smile. He was a direct reflection of his father, other than his unwavering optimism. None of his features lined up in the same way Conrad’s did. He was her twin, in a way. Losing him felt like losing her all over again.

All I did was try, try, keep trying. I kept pushing until I had nothing left to give, a burnout who barely made it to graduation. No friends to stand with at the finish line. All in an effort to forget what was lost along the way. Losing Conrad made all my achievements feel unworthy. A deep depression looming deep in my stomach, waiting for the right moment to rise, swallow me whole. Not even seeing my family there, sitting excitedly in the folding chairs could lift my spirits. There were four empty seats beside them that shattered my heart. I could place a name to each one. Figure out who would sit where if they had shown. But that bridge was burned and it was my fault.

My fault for running away from the boy who adored me like no other. Who made me feel special. Who understood me like a lover. My heart felt empty, I couldn’t sleep at all that night. Not even when Belly had shared about her forming relationship with Jeremiah, not when Steven confessed he thought he might be marrying Taylor soon, he was ready to buy a ring.

Years ago, that would’ve been something that lifted my mood. Filled me with joy, excitement that my sister was finding her own soulmate in a close friend. How her heart finally beat for the one that was there for her the whole time. But like a train, it hit me that the connecting link between the Fisher family and the Conklin’s would no longer be Conrad and I like I always dreamed it to be. It would be Jeremiah and Belly. Steven’s upcoming engagement didn’t thrill me either. His healthy relationship only reminding me of the ones I lacked. Amplifying the loneliness I was already painfully aware of. All by my own doing.

I felt like I was crashing, listening to my family talk about how well they were doing. It was like they couldn’t see the downward spiral I was falling into. Becoming my worst self.

Going home to a house filled with tainted memories surely didn’t help. Nor did the bottle of alcohol placed in the middle of the kitchen table. Picking it up and drinking straight from the glass was bound to happen, I was hurting and it was my numbing solution. Years ago I had told myself I’d rather feel all the pain in the world than be numb when it came to Susannah’s passing, but now I wished I could take it back. Each drink hurt less and less. The tequila turned into water, my eyes hurt to keep open. I was a quiet mess on the couch. Unaware of anything really.

It was an issue how easily persuaded I was when drunk. In my sober state, I would have never agreed to Belly’s proposition. I would’ve protested, claiming I still wasn’t ready to face my issues. I wasn’t fully prepared to accept that Conrad never loved me, that it was his grief that made him want to kiss me. Something I loved with for years. But I wasn’t sober, and Belly’s argument that we’d be going down for the summer again because it would be what Susannah wanted had me packing a bag for the morning. Ready to go down to the one place I hadn’t been since Susannah still inhabited it.

I found myself hurting in the back of the car, aching, tired. The road underneath the wheels crunching and bouncing the car in a way that made my head pound. I laid my head in my moms lap, praying for it to all be over. Seeking the peace of stillness.

Susannah had once told my mother that she believed I was walking sunshine. A force that lit up the sky when I was around. Someone who’s smile was so contagious, even her brooding son couldn’t help but feel joyful around me. It felt like I was letting her down in a way. Now that everyone had moved on, had gotten better. I felt like an idiot being stuck on the past. What was worse is that I wasn’t sure if I was so stuck because of Susannah or because of Conrad. Both answers freaked me out.

“Y/n, honey.” Her voice was gentle, hands running through my hair. I felt a mess. Hair messy like a child’s, eyes wide yet so tired. My lips were wet with drool, cheeks rosy with the summer heat. My head pounded with a nasty hangover.

I knew what my mom was going to tell me. I felt the car come to a halt, the road turning sharply into a familiar driveway with even more familiar trees peaking through the window. I knew where we were. I wasn’t sure if I was ready, but I knew there was no turning back.

Belly and Steven got out of the car first, just like every year prior. Footsteps echoed from the crushed up shells and rocks that were considered a driveway. Laughter and chatter, I recognized the voice as Jeremiah’s. My mother shifted underneath my head in hearing this, ready to get up. Her eyes met mine, silently pleading for me to just, try.

Sitting up, my back aches from the odd position I forced myself in. What I thought was comfort was a hidden pain shooting through my back. All I wanted more than anything was to lay back down on my moms lap. To pretend we were still at home. Like I wouldn’t have to confront anything. I heard the excitement in Jeremiahs voice.

“So, where’s Y/n?” My moms heavy sigh was a signal of impatience, her understanding was wearing thin, she was ready to shove me out into the outside.

I opened the car door slowly, head peaking out. My eyes were wide and nervous. Hands shaking around the door frame. I felt like a shell of the person I was the last time I’d stepped foot on this very ground.

“Jere.” His eyes were just as bright blue as I remembered, his hair just as unruly and free. He hadn’t changed, that alone gave me some sort of comfort. I felt my lips twitch up into a smile, eyebrows furrowed. I should’ve had smile lines at this age, but I only had worry lines. To stressed to think about being happy. But here I was, body peaking beyond the car door, cowering like a young child meeting new faces at a party.

My feet dragged, my body curling into itself in such a pathetic way. The door close weakly behind me, it didn’t make a sound I was sure I hadn’t closed it properly in my nervousness.

His footsteps were quick on the driveway, long strides shortening the amount of time it took to reach me. His eyes were slightly closed, like he was holding back tears. His arms outstretched, fingers motioning for me to come to him.

I didn’t realize how much I had missed how tightly he held onto me until having been deprived of it for so long. I wished I had been around more. I think I would’ve been better off if I had been. I could’ve healed, talked everything through.

But I ran. Far away from the people who supported me greatly, from the people who I needed to be around the most. I was cowardly and childish. A fool so blinded by her own emotions, I let myself close off to the people who I’d never had to before. I smeared my tears on Jeremiah’s shirt, his shoulder firm under my cheeks.

“I didn’t think you’d actually come.” His hands held my cheeks when he pulled away, keeping a hold on me liked I’d slip away if he didn’t. I shook my head, eyes crinkling just like they used to when we were children. I let out a hurt laugh. It was the furthest thing from real, but it felt nice to make someone else believe it was. Placing my hands over his, he lost all ability to move his hands other than his thumbs. He swiped at my tears, fighting off his own.

“I missed you.” I pinched his cheek, wiggling his face around playfully and snapping it back into place. His hands fell from my face, pretending to not find amusement in my attempts of play in such a serious moment. He swatted my hands away. My hangover was still intense, and my heart still beat unevenly, there was still a sense of magic around the beach house. I could feel the sadness slipping away, a new relief filling my heart as I eased back into the old routines of summer. It was still there, it always would be, but being around half of the pair I grew up around was enough to clear the murky skies and paint them a beautiful shade of crystal blue.

“I didn’t think you’d ever come back.” His words made my hands freeze, pulling back away from him and my smile falling, hard to bring back up. How could I explain my absence was one that was caused not only by the passing of his own mother, but by the cruel joke his brother had played on me. How in the weakest times, he continued to play me, made me feel so easy.

A deep breath got stuck in my throat, blinking hard. The small lump in my throat expanded until it burned. I swallowed, and swallowed until the pain was soothed enough to speak without an intense rasp. Licking my lips, I prepared for the long explanation and heavy details I would shorten to help Jeremiah understand why I had left everyone behind. I opened my mouth, only to have my words cut off and my heart to leap into my throat.

“Y/n.” His voice was airy, like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. Turning my head to the side, I saw the joy in his face, mixing with what I could read as pure shock and what I could pick up as a deep sadness. It was clear it wasn’t only the youngest who was shocked by me showing up this summer.

“Conrad.” My tone was the same. I didn’t chase after him like I did to Jeremiah, nor did I welcome him into my arms, letting him walk right up to me. I felt stuck in place, heart racing at the sudden confrontation. He looked thinner, more tired. But his skin was still sun kissed and his nose was burnt on the bridge into a pinkish red. He had freckles scattered on his face and the same middle part that still, even after almost a decade of the change, curved off to the side near the back.

It was his house, it was stupid to pretend to be shocked by him being there. Jeremiah and all the courage I’d gained to even begin the process of speaking up about what happened was gone. The smile, even as fake as it was was wiped from my face and replaced with pure terror, pain.

It was like ripping my heart out all over again. Resurrecting the feelings that I had sworn to have buried over the last years. The ones I promised would never come back. I never saw myself in this light. So pathetic, letting something so old kill me all over again. It was like I was watching myself out of my body, listening to the world around me as a ghost. Only half of who I was. It was like I convinced myself these past few months that what happened was merely just a flesh wound, nothing deeper. I couldn’t have anticipated how far the ache would reach. How intense it would feel.

Conrad had began to try and speak again, his hands raising, my heart beating. The closer he inched, the harder it became to breath. The more blurry my vision became, the more everything hurt in a way I was sure I would never feel again.

Like some saint, Jeremiah had seen it. The way my shoulders tensed, chest rising and falling erratically. My skin was becoming blotchy around my neck and my eyes were watering more. I looked just as panicked as I felt. He’d seen me crashing out, he knew just as Conrad once had to get me out of there.

His hand hooked in mine, fingers intertwined tightly and palms pressed together until there was no space between us. He looked to me with a fake face on, eyes searching mine, he prayed I would go along with it.

My ears tuned most of it out, the pounding on my ears to great to really listen to what he was saying. I could only nod my head and let him lead the way. My footing was unstable, the ground shifting and pebbles flying in front of my feet each time I lifted my shoes off the ground. The birds sung to each other, and my mother instructed everyone to help unload the last of the cars luggage. Jeremiah and I had slipped away, keeping distance away from Conrad while doing so and slipped through the back door to seek shelter in his room.

I knew I had to explain it to him then, I couldn’t leave Jeremiah in the dark. Not when he’d been so worried that he pulled me away from his own brother, my best friend. He’d saved me, in a way. I owed it to him to tell him everything. Even if he’d take Conrad side. Even if I lost my only other bridge to Susannah’s life. He deserved to know.

Sitting on his messy duvet cover, my shoes fell to the floor, creating a heavy sound when they connected with the carpet. My knees were pulled to my chest, as if to hide away in a way. He was patient with me, his hand warm on my leg. I felt calmer without Conrad so close, with walls to separate us. I told him everything. He stayed stone faced while processing my feelings, how my heartache had been so great I couldn’t take myself back here until now. How my heart still longed for Conrad Fisher, how it always would. He didn’t judge me, but I could see how he felt bad for me. An idiot who fell in love with his idiot brother.

She’d been ignoring me all week. Something I never saw myself becoming well aquatinted with when it came to her. She was always a ball of sunshine, so easy going, so open to change. I had no idea that by me expressing my feelings I could change it in a moment. I wouldn’t have done it if I knew she would have run like this.

My mom always believed that Y/n and I were meant to be, pulled together by some invisible force. It constantly worked in our favors to push and pull us into a tightly knitted circle. Just us. When she died, Y/n was persistent on being supportive. Being there, caring more than anyone had ever done for me in that dark time. I thought that it was smart to buy into my fantasies, that Y/n had developed the same feelings I held for her and we could finally be what I’d always dreamed of.

It was the worst thing I could’ve done, looking back. How naive I was to think that even if she did reciprocate what I held for her, she was grieving just like I was. She was weak. Maybe she thought of it as wrong, now that my mom was dead. I drove her away with my own selfishness. It was a regret I carried all of my college experience.

Phone dry, a never ending loop of unanswered texts. She became a dump in a way, a place for me to open up even in her not being there. Part of me liked to think she read the messages. She had turned off her alerts, I had no idea, but thinking she saw them made my heart hurt less.

I thought by her coming, even though I knew the chances were slim as the Conklin’s had packed up and spent the summer down at Cousins without her in the previous years, I knew that maybe by her just being close that we could mend things. I had to. It hurt me to not be able to reach out and touch her like I once had the privilege to.

To hold her fingers under mine, rubbing dirt out of her eyebrows and maybe pressing my palms to her temples just to feel her warmth. How her legs tangled between the lawn and my own. It was all a foreign memory, ones that kept me going. Her laugh was a distant memory, one that echoed each night before I went to bed. For years I covered my ears and held my breath, afraid to loose the sound of her voice and smell of her perfume. Some shirts stayed hung up idly in my closet because she lingered on them. I didn’t want to wash it away yet.

Jeremiah insisted she just needed time after the first day. After he’d taken her away from me. I went into his room that night to yell at him, ask him why he would do that to me when he knew just how badly I wanted to hold her. He shook his head and held his breath. She was still hurting, he explained. Still scarred by the injuries that should’ve healed months ago. She needed time.

Time, something that became limited in the summer. Something we had not much of. There was no more guarantee she would be back. No more sure telling that her smile would once again light up the summer home and her voice would ring throughout the beaches. This could be my last ever moments with her. My last real conversation being one that caused her to leave.

I wanted to make it right more than anything, wanted to show her I still cared more than anything. I wanted to tell her everything. Pretend that we were okay, really be okay. I wanted her back.

Around the twelve day mark, I had enough. Time and space was something she had plenty of. I understood her, better than anyone. I know she needed her space, continues to need to heal. But for the first time in my life it’s like I have no clue on how to even begin to help her do that. It made me feel stupid, helpless. Killing myself over a girl who was once only a little girl to me.

The old dock was a place I found myself at most peace. The way the waves gently brushed against the old wooden beams, rocking the platform above. How the moonlight peaked through the cracks of the wooden roof and glistened on the water. You could faintly make out the shape of fish if you really looked and the wind was chilling compared to the usual humid summer air that hung all morning.

My arms were situated right against my body, hands tucked under my armpits. I was cold, sure, but I would never admit it. I always loved when Conrad would take me out here when we were younger. He learned his own love for the spot form his mother, a love that was passed down from child to child like an everlasting passion.

It was quiet, the water and the air drowning out any background noise. Sometimes if you were lucky, young children would play in the background. Laughter would fill the area. Maybe an old couple would barbecue outside. You could people watch. It was all so serene. Not enough to block out the creaks of approaching footsteps. How the boards groaned under the heavy steps getting closer.

My nose was red, I scrunched it in the cold. I sighed heavily, releasing any tension.

“This has always kind of been our spot, huh.” His voice was much deeper than I recalled it. Much more gravely, raspy than before. He was referring to Susannah and how it started, the first discussions that made us realize we were closer than all the others. We were certainly best friends. It was funny how even though it was her funeral that ultimately led to our breakage that she was a reoccurring theme in our lives. I nodded.

Silence took over us, a gap left between our bodies. I felt the urge to stay in place fighting the one to leave. I swallowed hard, looking over my shoulder and backing away slowly. My feet found the floor behind me, and unlike I had when the incident occurred, I was steady and able to begin my escape.

“Y/n, wait.” Conrad spoke softly. His voice wasn’t demanding, almost like he was begging. His eyes begged more than his voice. He pleaded for me to stay. I turned my head to him, stopping short and turning to face him. I watched as his frame began to tower over mine the closer and closer we got. He left a sizable gap between us still, out of respect for me.

Looking up at him, my eyes reflected the stars, wide and expecting. I waited patiently while his tongue licked around his mouth, his breathing heavier and heavier by the minute. He looked like he might burst.

“Y/n, you’re my best friend.” The words stung to hear even now. Even when I should’ve been relieved to know that he still considered me to be at the top of his list. My own heartache held me back. I could only nod.

“I know.” I could feel the lump in my throat form. How it hurt to not cry. How my eyebrows felt heavy and my nose became sore, not from the cold anymore.

He breathed out harshly, watching as I tried to make my escape again. His hand was harsh on my hand, pulling me back to where I was. I hadn’t even gotten the chance to turn away yet but he knew my intentions just as well as I did.

“You’re my best friend and it kills me to not be able to have you in my life anymore. I miss what we had, what we were. Everything was going great and then…what happened to us, Y/n?” I wish I could’ve answered him, but we both knew what led us here.

“I don’t have to defend my feelings to you.” My lip quivered, feeling a fight rising between us. We never used to fight. Now looking back on it, our last two interactions had only been fights. How quickly things can change.

Ripping my hand from his grasp I turned and made my quick escape down the dock. Walking as quick as my feet would carry me until my feet felt the grass beneath the soles of my shoes. I heard Conrad’s own steps connecting with the flooring just as harshly as mine had. The yank on my wrist was no as gentle as the first time around. His grip was harsh, tight. He made sure there was no escape.

“What is wrong with you?” His voice was raised but he wasn’t shouting. He rarely shouted at me. He always said he loved me too much to be mad at me.

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with me?” My eyes rolled and my chest heaved, I felt myself getting hotter, cheeks redder.

“Susannah’s dead. She fucking died and everyone was hurting. You were hurting, I was hurting! You treated me like a last resort! Like, now that you lost someone important to you—you needed someone to fill the void! Made me feel easy, like an idiot! Trying to kiss me like it didn’t change anything—like it didn’t mean anything! It ruined everything Conrad! You decided that because you couldn’t have your ego bruised by being openly emotional, you just had to keep pushing people away! You used me! ” I threw my free hand up. I was crying. I felt stupid for crying, I shouldn’t be crying over him.

“I didn’t do that! No, Y/n you were never a last resort. I thought…I thought it would help! I didn’t think it would hurt you that badly. God, why did it have to hurt us so badly?” He shouted it at the sky. A fog now hugging the trees in the distance. A rainstorm coming in by morning. Clear sky’s would soon turn dark and murky. It felt fitting.

I felt rage. Pure rage. How blind he was to why I was hurting. I had pointed him in every direction, given him hints and yet he was always the one who even with their smart eyes and quick attention, could never truly figure out what I held for him. It all bubbles out like a sickness. A burning vomit that was nothing more than a dry heave. It hurt to get out, but the relief afterwards was worth it

“Because I love you, you idiot!” My voice was loud, deafening in the heavy silence that now hung between us, “I love you, okay?” I was more quiet the second time, seeing Conrad’s big eyes and shocked expression. How his hand loosened on my wrist, I prepared for the worst. The long awaited rejection that would forever break me, tear away the last pieces of the Fisher brothers from my life all together. Our past only to be held in old Polaroids and my moms photo book.

“And I’ve known it since that day in the pier. You bought me ice cream and I realized nobodies ever cared for me like that before. It felt so good to be know so well. It felt ducking amazing to have someone like that. I cared so much about you, I’m afraid I always will. Even now I can’t shake it.” I went on and on, confessing how I felt, when I realized what always been there. I felt his touch leave me completely. It felt cold to be so alone. My tears were salty when they landed on my lips, I wonder if Conrad could taste them.

His hands were warm on my cheeks, palms pressing into my jawline so hard that the simple touch felt that much more intense. His eyes were shut, I noticed. So I closed mine too, allowing myself to give into the boy in front of me. His chest pressed against mine, we were so close, air was almost impossible to find. I could only breathe in him, everything was Conrad. I could feel him everywhere. My nose, my eyes, my ears, my fingertips. His lips molded against my perfectly, slotting themselves into place and setting off jolts of electricity in my veins. It was slow and passionate, everything I had ever dreamed it to be. Wished for. He was gentle and rough, fearful to hurt me, as if I would shatter under his touch, but the pure desire to show me he felt the same was too great to dull down his actions.

We separated with a gasp. Heaving at the lack of air, both breathless form how long it lasted and how much build up had led us here. How badly we desired it. His forehead rested against mine softly, hands sliding down to settle on my waist. He was a lot softer now, more gentle, kinder. Like now that everything had been said wordlessly, he could finally relax by having me in his hold.

Our eyelashes fluttered against the others cheeks, a soft laughter passing between us. Our smiles were b, it felt more like a scar than a scab now. To have some reassurance that he didn’t go after me because I was easy in his eyes. But because he felt the same.

“It was the day at the beach. We got sunburnt badly and you took care of me all night.” I kissed his cheek while he spoke, holding onto him just a moment longer, “You said you realized your feelings the day at the boardwalk. I found mine while you were rubbing aloe on my back.” We laughter again at the almost stupid memory. How we had both realized what we felt at rehab seemed like the most insignificant parts of our relationship. Not when Conrad had taken me to my first party and danced with me all night, not when I stayed up all night with him and held him close just for the hell of it, but when we were children.

We had been so blind to it our whole lives it was almost a tragedy. How much wasted time we had in our lives. It was something we would never get back. Something so precious, something we all had so little of. It was too late to rewrite our history. We could only hope to fix what was broke. And in the silent of the night, Conrad began the mending with the soft whisper of three simple words. Ones that came out in almost a mumble, they only reached my ears.

“I love you.” I never truly believed Conrad when he would joke how distance makes the heart grow fonder, but after what felt like a lifetime apart, it felt like the most honest statement to be made.

Conrad Fisher was mine and I was his. After all of our damaged fights and flaws, we’d found each other again. Being pulled together again by that invisible string. Sticking like glue. My heart swelled knowing he would be mine in the morning.

I will forever cling onto everything I feared, but I will feel at peace with my own inquiries while now that we are half-awake, intimate in how we hold each other. Finally, the grief subsided and I am at peace. I am myself again, he is himself with me.

I know myself better than I have in years.

[peterpparkrr]

Banter (ch. 1)

Series: Banter

Pairing: Roy Kent x f!Reader

Summary: You and Roy Kent do not get along. But your mysterious Bantr match on the other hand…

A/N: SEASON 3! SEASON 3! Ted Lasso is the only thing holding my sanity together so I figured I might as well write for it. Enjoy! 

(Ch. 2) (Ch. 3) (Ch. 4) (Ch. 5)

series masterlist

Shutterbug: Do you ever feel like no one really knows you?

SirSwears-a-Lot: Yes. Most of the people I interact with are fucking idiots.

SirSwears-a-Lot: Has something prompted this existential crisis?

Shutterbug: My friends. And work. Everything.

SirSwears-a-Lot: It's hard to be vulnerable with people. 

SirSwears-a-Lot: In the effort to respond to honesty with honesty, I’ve recently been struggling with the question: What the hell am I doing?

Shutterbug: I’m about to start a new job and I’m questioning every decision I’ve ever made.

SirSwears-a-Lot: Same.

You were trying to navigate your way through the AFC Richmond building when you spotted a familiar blonde ponytail down the hallway.

“Keeley!”

Keeley squealed your name when she turned around to see you. 

“EEEEEE! I’m so excited that you’re here!” She shouted as she ran toward you at full speed before launching herself at you, wrapping her arms around your neck tightly as you spin her in a little circle.

To this day you weren’t sure how you’d ended up being best friends with Keeley Jones. 

You’d met on a commercial set when you were an assistant to the photographer and Keeley as the talent for the shoot had charmed your pants off. 

Not literally. You two didn’t have that kind of relationship. No matter how often Keeley joked about wanting to shag you. 

But Keeley’s uncanny ability to befriend anyone and everyone she met had worked on you. Despite being the model-slash-acress-social media star at the center of the commercial she took the time to ask you your name, understand what your job was, and pepper you with personal and ranndom questions.

And as an unmoored creative professional in London, you’d latched onto Keeley as a familiar face in the circles you both ran in (Well, circles that Keeley ran in and you sort of loitered on the outskirts of with your camera). 

And when the two of you’d walked in on her boyfriend at the time shagging the executive for the brand you two were working on the shoot for, she’d slapped him clear across the face (the boyfriend, not the executive, you both wanted to continue working). And you’d let her move in with you until she could figure out what she was going to do next.

It had bonded you together for life. 

Which is how she’d managed to rope you into taking AFC Richmond’s promo photos despite your strong anti-sport stance. 

You were easily swayed by the Keeley Jones pout. And the promise of a well-paying job.

“Ted! Roy! This is my friend-slash-photographer-extraordinaire,” Keeley called out to two men in Richmond jackets that made their way over to you, introducing you all to each other. They both looked a little too old to be players so you assumed they were coaches. “She’s going to be the photographer for the promo shoot tomorrow.” 

“Nice to meet you, I’m excited to work with the team,” You tell them as you reach out to shake their hands. 

“Pleasure to meet an old pal of Keeley’s,” The one with the mustache, Ted, replies as he shakes your hand eagerly.

“Oh! You’re American!” You exclaim in surprise.

“Yes, we are,” Ted replies with a small chuckle. “But I promise we have nothing but the utmost respect for the game y’all call football.”

“I’m not really a football fan to be honest,” You admit with a shrug. 

You don’t necessarily have anything against the game itself. But the fact that the world pours billions of dollars into an industry built around boys kicking balls around seems silly to you. Especially considering the way some fans of the game react – hooliganism, riots, bar fights, increased rates of domestic violence after matches – it all seems like a waste.

“Roy! this is the photographer for the shoot tomorrow,” Keeley tells a man with a head of dark curls and a deep frown etched into his stubble.

You can’t help but give him the once over. It’s part of the artistic nature of your work, you’re always scanning people for their best angles, natural beauty, etcetera, that you might want to work with when you’re shooting.

And he’s pretty. In that gruff, grumpy mountain man kind of way.

“Nice to meet you,” You greet him with a smile as you hold out your hand to him. “Are you a player?”

“Do I look like I’m a fucking player?” He grumbles at you before he pushed between you and Keeley and walks into the locker room. 

“Excuse me?!” You shout after him, completely taken aback by the rudeness you’d just been faced with.

“You’ll have to excuse Roy,” Keeley tells you with an apologetic smile.  “He wakes up on the wrong side of the bed, well, every morning.” 

“Right,” You reply with a glance over your shoulder in the direction he stalked off to. 

“Since he’s not a player at least I don’t have to work with him,” You add with a halfhearted smile. Trying to play the optimist for the sake of your professionality.

Keeley’s eyes widen slightly when you say that and what smile you had managed drops off your face completely.

“Um…” She mutters.

“What?” You groan.

“He’s one of the other coaches,” Keeley tells you apologetically as she purses her lips at you.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” You grumble. 

“Fucking dick,” You mutter under your breath as Keeley leads you down the hallway, explaining what the team owner, Rebecca Welton, is looking for brand-wise from these promotional photos.

Shutterbug: Why are men such assholes?

SirSwears-a-Lot: I feel like you’re expecting me to defend my gender but I honestly can’t.

SirSwears-a-Lot: Men are pricks.

Shutterbug: Agreed. This guy I met for part of my new job was a complete and total dick to me today for absolutely no reason. If I didn’t like getting paid I would have gone full psycho bitch on his ass. See how he liked that.

SirSwears-a-Lot: I would pay good money to see that.

Shutterbug: I did meet another guy at this job today who was actually a really nice guy, like unnaturally nice.

Shutterbug: And you’re nice. 

Shutterbug: So I guess #NotAllMen.

SirSwears-a-Lot: I’m not nice.

Shutterbug: Yeah, you are. 

Shutterbug: You let your niece help you come up with your dating app profile.

Shutterbug: And if you weren’t a nice guy you wouldn’t let me complain to you all the time.

SirSwears-a-Lot: I complain back to you so it’s really an even exchange. Plus most of your stories are hilarious.

Shutterbug: Well, I do usually like my work.

Shutterbug: But my pro tip of the day: don’t work with athletes. 

SirSwears-a-Lot: Noted.

“Hiya,” Ted greets you as you stand in the middle of the locker room on your phone.

You’re so engrossed in your text argument with Bantr boy about whether or not pineapple belongs on pizza that you jump slightly at the sudden noise.

“Ope, sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya,” Ted apologizes. 

“Oh, it’s fine, I just got wrapped up in a text conversation,” You tell him with a shrug as you tuck your phone back into your pocket and smile back at Ted. 

“Boyfriend? Girlfriend?” Ted asks curiously.

“Just a guy,” You tell him.

Ted nods for you to continue. Something you’ve almost never had someone, especially not a guy do to you in a professional context.

“Well, I’m on Keeley’s app. I figure at least one of us deserves to have success. Even if it’s professional and not personal.”

“You’re a good friend,” Ted interjects.

“And I have been flirting with one guy who’s actually funny. And intelligent. It probably won’t go anywhere but it’s fun to have someone to chat with who doesn’t know who I am.”

“I can’t say I understand the appeal of that sort of anonymity, what if you��re chatting with a serial killer? Or a homophobe? Or someone who hates pizza?” Ted replies. “But then again, I’m not young and hip.”

“It’s a valid perspective,” You reply with a nod. “I’m honestly not even sure if he would like me. If we ever met, I mean, I don’t know if I’m his type.”

“Well, you’re an absolute delight, I can’t imagine a single guy who wouldn’t like you, unless he hates, I don’t know, happiness and joy,” Ted tells you.

“Thanks, Ted,” You reply.

“Anything else I can help ya with?” Ted asks as he slaps his hands down on his thighs. “Got any of those big heavy lights you need moved around?”

“The lights actually aren’t that heavy,” You tell him with a burst of laughter. “I think I’m just about set up here. Just waiting on your team and then we can get started.”

Shutterbug: What’s your type?

SirSwears-a-Lot: Why do you ask?

Shutterbug: Maybe I’m getting plastic surgery so that I can look like it.

SirSwears-a-Lot: Whatever you look like, you’re my type.

SirSwears-a-Lot: Unless you’re actually my boss catfishing me.

SirSwears-a-Lot: In which case, fuck you.

Shutterbug:  Damn. You’ve caught me!

You couldn’t wait for this job to be over.

The team was actually easy. Other than a few players who tried to tell you about their best angles (Jamie Tartt had insisted that you needed to only shoot him from the left and seemed unable to not smolder during the shoot which was… an interesting choice), the solo shots of the players had been a breeze.

But these coaches were a whole different beast. 

Ted was happy, almost eager to take your direction. 

But the other three?

Coach Beard hardly spoke during the entire interaction and refused to smile but his pictures came out fairly decent. 

Nathan Shelley was so nervous and fidgety it took you ages to take the photos because he kept breaking the poses to ask you if he was doing alright.

Roy Kent was impossible.

“You have to stay in the pose,” You grumbled as you pushed past your lighting rig to re-adjust Roy for what felt like the hundredth time this afternoon to. 

“I feel fucking stupid in the pose,” Roy grumbled in response.

“Well, you look stupid when you don’t do it,” You shot back.

“Just listen to the nice lady, Roy,” Ted called out, causing a few of the others to chuckle. 

Something of a crowd had formed to watch the entire process. Some of the players who were done with training and the rest of the coaches were standing around watching now that their photos were over and you could tell that Roy hated having an audience.

“Shut up!” Roy shouted at them.

You groaned as he broke the angle again.

“Alright, everyone out!” You shout once you’ve finally lost your patience. You shoo at the men. “Everyone!”

Once it was just you and Roy in the room you turned back to him.

“The sooner you do what I tell you to do. The sooner this is all over,” You tell him. “You’re handsome, I don’t understand why you hate getting your photo taken so much.”

Roy didn’t reply with words, he simply grunted at you as you stepped towards him and lifted your hand to gently tilt his face back to the direction you wanted him to face before stepping away.

“There,” You said a minute later once you’d gotten all the shots you would need. “That wasn’t so painful, now was it?”

“Yeah,” Roy grunted again as he pushed through your set-up and disappeared back into the coaches' office. 

You watched him leave with a puff of mild annoyance before you realized that meant that today’s shoot was over and hurried to back up your things.

Shutterbug: Would you ever want to meet up?

You’d gotten to the restaurant too early. After you’d sent that message you’d thrown your phone across the room and tried not to panic. 

When you’d finally built up the courage to retrieve your phone you saw that he’d already messaged you back,

SirSwears-a-Lot: Yes.

SirSwears-a-Lot: Friday night? Bacco’s, 7 pm?

You grinned at your phone for a moment before typing your response.

Shutterbug: See you then :)

And you’d been riding on cloud nine for the last few days. You hadn’t told anyone about the date. Not even Keeley. No matter how hopeful you were about this working out, you hated the thought of getting someone else's hopes up so you decided to keep it a secret. 

Just until after the date.

But it also meant that you’d finished up the day’s shoot, gone home to get ready, and somehow ended up at the restaurant thirty minutes before your reservation. So you were standing in the waiting area, trying not to look too pathetic while you scrolled through Instagram.

Every time you heard the door open your eyes would flicker up only to be met with the view of a sweet elderly couple or a group of business partners making their way through the door. 

Until you heard to door open and looked up to lock eyes with Roy Kent. 

Your eyes widened before you offered him a sarcastic smile. 

“I’m waiting for someone,” You tell him in lieu of a greeting.

“Me too,” He replies gruffly.

“Good for you,” You reply with a furrow of your brows.

“Yeah.” 

You roll your eyes and look back down at your phone, tapping out a quick message to let him know you’re here. You hit send just as your phone pings with a similar text from him. 

You look up to scan the room again just as Roy’s phone buzzes and your eyes lock as you realize that you’re the only two people in the waiting area. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” You groan.

“Fuck,” Roy mutters.

[letsgetrowdy43]

https://www.tumblr.com/letsgetrowdy43/752241783330701312/thinking-about-quinn-always-calling-honey-hun-as

quinn calling honey “dove” when she’s feeling insecure:

a little after hayden is born honey is really starting to notice how much her body has changed since she had kids.

she was having a bad day for no specific reason and all she wanted to do was be with quinn. so when quinn got home after doing whatever hockey players do during the off season, honey was in the shower and the kids were asleep

quinn got in with her and honey didn’t even look at him. she was putting her face under the hot water so quinn couldn’t tell she was crying, but her shoulders were shaking

he asked what was wrong and all honey said was, “do you think i’m pretty still?”

shocked, quinn said “i think you’re the most beautiful woman alive” honey turned around and looked down at her body. quinn wrapped his arms around his wife and said, “dove, you’re perfect”

They’re in Michigan for the summer, and she begins struggling a bit with her body image, especially her postpartum body and summer attire.

She just kind of feels like everything about her appearance has changed since she had her second baby, her hips are a little more round, her stretchmarks are a little more prominent, and her boobs are just extremely sore and look a little different due to breastfeeding. All completely normal and beautiful things that she's struggling to find love for at the moment!!

She feels the only things that look good on her are sweaters and leggings, and to be honest she's just very uncomfortable in any summer and heat-appropriate clothing. This issue has caused her to be so warm all the time, and she's itching to be comfortable in a pair of shorts and a tank top, or one of her favourite summer dresses, but she's having trouble loving herself and stepping out of her comfort zone.

This little moment happened a week into their summer vacation, she was starting her bedtime routine after putting the kids to bed, and she took a few minutes to look at herself in the mirror nitpicking all of the noticeable changes until the weight of it all becomes too much, and she breaks down before stepping into the shower.

Meanwhile, Quinn returns from a day spent at the country club, his anticipation to see his wife growing as he searches the house for her. Upon hearing the sound of the running shower, he wastes no time in joining her, eager to see her after a day apart. But as he enters the steam-filled bathroom, he senses something is wrong, something heavy in the air that dampens his excitement.

Approaching her with tenderness, he wraps his arms around her, pressing sweet kisses to her shoulders. He can feel the tension and vulnerability radiating off of her. So he asks what's wrong and how he can make it better.

She kinda just shrugs him off and puts her face in the stream of water coming from the shower head, pretending to wash her face so she doesn’t have to talk about what’s upsetting her.

He asks again wanting to know how to help, it takes her a moment to gather her thoughts and to find the right words to express the emotions swirling within her. And then as she turns to him, in a voice trembling with upset, she whispers the words that have been haunting her, her arms instinctively moving to shield herself from his gaze, as if afraid of his reaction.

Her shoulders are shaking and she kinda falls into his hold as she mumbles about how she knows that "looks aren't everything, but she feels so ugly” and Quinn is just shocked.

Honey then apologizes to him for not being pretty anymore and Quinn snaps out of his moment of disbelief and just hugs her into him as he begs her to stop apologizing and starts reassuring her that she is the most beautiful woman ever.

He apologizes, realizing he's neglected to remind her of her perfection, then proceeds to tell her she's not only perfect but also one of the strongest people he knows. He gently reassures her that these changes are not just normal, but also beautiful, as they are a representation of the new lives and family that they are building together. He thanks her for loving him and for being the best mother to their children.

Quinn is just so frantic because the most beautiful woman in his arms is feeling so down on herself, and he feels an urgent need to fix it. There's not a day that goes by without him thinking about how beautiful and intelligent she is, and he realizes he hasn't been doing a good job of telling her, especially when she's feeling vulnerable.

He cups her face and makes her look at him so she can get the gravity of his words, "Dove, you are the most beautiful woman alive, and I know it is a struggle to hear it right now but I will never stop reminding you," he mumbled as he presses kisses to all the places around her body that he knows she been feeling uncomfortable towards.

And let's just he makes sure to spend the rest of their night tangled in bed worshipping her and showing her just how beautiful he thinks she is 🤭

This got a little long… but this felt important :)))

[messrmoonyy]

And she would rescue me

Tess Servopoulos x Fem!reader

Summary- Tess doesn’t know why she stopped to help you. She doesn’t know why she thought bringing into the QZ was a good idea either. But now you’re in her apartment and she’ll be damned if she’s about to let you die. Snippets of the days you spend with her

A/N- this came to me so randomly in the middle of getting extremely frustrated over a request I couldn’t get my mind to wrap around, and I smashed out a few thousand words and decided I loved it. I feel like there’s a lot of injured reader x Joel fics but not enough Tess ones. So here’s my spin on it.

Warnings- 18+ || light discussion of injuries, I think this is sliigghttllyyy ooc tess, tess realising she can actually let someone in, tess learning to trust tbh, smut towards the end( it isn’t as detailed as usual cause Lord this OS is long I had to chop things out ) : oral ( reader receiving ) , fingering ( tess receiving), tess gets a little panicked during one part of the smut but she’s totally okay, can I get a hell yeah for tess being vulnerable?!

Word count- 13k only proof read once

Navigation | TLOU masterlist | AO3

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated/ encouraged <3

She didn’t really know why she’d done it. Why she hadn’t just… kept walking. Minded her own fucking business and gone home. But how could she? She still had some kind of humanity left in her, enough that meant she wouldn’t just walk past a girl dying.

Which, when she thought about it, was almost laughable. She’d left her fair share of people dying, most of them dying because of her own actions. So. Clearly her humanity liked to pick and choose its moments. And maybe if this scenario had happened 10 more years into the apocalypse, she would have left you there.

But it hadn’t. The world was still yet to rip the final shreds of humanity out of her.

You had been in a heap at the bottom of a slope, where the concrete of the road had been bombed and now created a jagged rocky mess. She’d thought you were dead at first. No one really ever survived outside the wall on their own, so it wasn’t wrong of her to assume. And if she was truly honest she thought that checking on you was worth it, even if you were dead because you might actually have something decent on you.

Well that’s what she’d told Joel anyway. Her and Joel were close, ridiculously close. They knew each other inside and out but she always noticed she had held onto a little more of her humanity of the years where as he seemed to have buried his deeply away. She was the one that still had a tiny candle flickering in her chest, a warmth that allowed her to hope and care. Even if some days she did feel like snuffing it out. No matter how twisted and dark her mind had become over the years, she still had some light trapped in there.

And so even with Joel’s complaints she had gone over to you. Using the excuse of simply hoping to pull something useful from the corpse. But no. You’d been alive. Barely it seemed. But alive.

Firstly she’d checked you over for any sign of a bite, carefully pushing at you and moving your clothes for any sign of fungus crawling through your veins. Last thing she wanted was another infected crawling around out there, as if their journeys out of the city weren’t difficult enough as it was. So she checked, ready to shoot you in the head if she found even a single sign of a mushroom. And when she’d found none… she’d stood up to leave. You had nothing on you. Even your clothes were fucked. Nothing worth her time. You’d be dead soon and just another body littering the streets. She should just go home and get out of the rain.

But she found herself unable to move. Even when Joel chastised her for wasting time when he just wanted to get back inside the wall and drink himself to sleep.

“ I am not taking some damn girl back inside the wall “ he hissed “ This isn’t you Tess “

“ she’s dying Joel “

“ and so let her die. People die every goddamn day. Including us if we get caught tryna smuggle some girl through the wall. And what’re you gonna do when you get back? What if she dies anyway huh? “

She’d looked down at you again, debating listening to him. If you did die on the way back she’d be stuck with the task of trying to dispose of a dead body. Which she had done plenty of times before but, if they found you without any records of ever being accepted into the QZ? That could cause some problems.

But you were still alive. Somehow. Somehow you had managed to survive out there, and from the flaking dried blood on your face you’d been there a while. You were strong. She liked that.

Joel was wrapped around her finger so even with his protesting it didn’t surprise her that she’d managed to talk him round.

The real surprise was that they’d managed to get back inside the wall, through the tunnels and into her apartment unnoticed. Joel unceremoniously dumping you down on her bed and leaving with muttered curses under his breath that he wasn’t gonna help if she got caught. Which was bullshit. Of course he would.

That had been 2 days ago.

You were still where Joel had left you, but she made you more comfortable. Changed you out of your filthy clothes and bandaged your ankle. From the bruising and the swelling she assumed you’d broken it. But there wasn’t much telling what exactly you’d done, X-rays weren’t exactly easy to go and get now.

She’d also cleaned the injury on your head, washing away the dried blood and stitching up the wound. It wasn’t exactly neat. But she didn’t think you’d mind. She’d saved your life after all. She sat you up every now and again to coax water into you, smashing up painkillers and dissolving them in some hope you weren’t in too much pain.

You’d barely woken up the entire time. Occasionally your eyes would open for a few seconds, gaze around the room in a way that made you look drunk, and then pass back out again. She was starting to get worried. Because you needed to eat sooner rather than later. Dosing you with water and pills was one thing but it would be useless if you didn’t eat anything.

She kept a close eye on you. Locking the doors whenever she went out for work assignments and hoping you wouldn’t wake up and freak out whilst she was gone. But you didn’t. She came home, gave you water and meds, and then went to bed.

She’d been sleeping on the couch. The bed was big enough for two. But she guessed you waking up not only in a strange place but with a strange person next to you might just kill you anyway from the shock.

It made her want to laugh sometimes when she lay there at night. Maybe she was getting soft. Running around like Florence fucking Nightingale looking after a stranger that was probably gonna die anyway. And for what? What solid reason did she have for it?

None. Absolutely none.

But she couldn’t help it. Continuously tending to you and keeping you clean, keeping your bandages fresh. Wiping at your face and wondering where you’d come from, how you’d ended up out there. She had so many questions.

She was getting soft.

You woke up properly a few days after she’d found you. She wasn’t entirely sure if your bouts of unconsciousness had been due to the head injury or the painkillers. Maybe it was both. Either way, your eyes were fully open now.

To her surprise you didn’t look afraid. She found it made that little candle in her chest burn a little brighter for a moment. She was so used to people being afraid. She liked it, of course she did. But the change was nice for a brief moment. To see kind eyes looking at her like she was… a person.

You were both silent. Neither of you seemingly knowing what to say in the moment. She hadn’t really thought that far ahead. And she was confused to find herself stuck for words. Unsure of what to do. She usually was ten steps ahead of everyone, could read a room in an instant and know exactly what her next move would be.

But not now. Not there with you looking at her like that. It was frustrating.

“ welcome to the world of the living sweetheart “ she finally said, crossing her arms over her chest and watching you closely “ or half living I suppose “

“ where am I? “ your voice was hoarse. Probably because you hadn’t used it for so long. It was curious though. Not afraid. No fear laced your words as you glanced around the room, landing back on her and tilting your head slightly to the side like an inquisitive animal.

“ Boston QZ “ Tess finally spoke, grabbing a chair from the kitchen table and pulling it to the end of the bed and sitting down. You watched her every move, eyes following her from the table to where she sat “ I found you outside the wall. What the fuck were you doing out there huh? “

You seemed to ponder on the question for a moment, flickers of confusion flashing across your face. You didn’t know. How hard had you hit your head?

“ I’m not- I’m not sure - how long have I been here? “

“ few days “ your eyes widened at that, eyebrows flying up in a way that clearly hurt the wound on your head. Your hand came up to touch it, gingerly patting the stitched up space in your hairline. You then pulled at the blankets to see your ankle neatly bandaged up.

“ I fell “

“ I guess so “ she said with a sarcastic tone seeping its way into her words. Of course you’d fallen. It didn’t take a genius to work that one out.

“ so you… brought me here? “

“ a thank you would be fuckin nice “

“ oh! Thank you. Yeah of course “ you said quickly, blush creeping across your cheeks. She surprised herself by immediately thinking how… cute… it looked.

“ you feel okay though? “ she asked, immediately trying to rid herself of her previous thought. You nodded and yours eyes fell back onto her, sheepishly avoiding her gaze for more than a few seconds.

“ kinda hungry though “ to her surprise that made her smile, exhaling shortly though her nose in a small laugh.

“ yeah I bet “ she felt your eyes on her the entire time she was pottering around in the kitchenette deciding what food to get you. A small part of her did think she should’ve been smarter than to turn her back on you, you could’ve gotten out of bed and found one of the numerous weapons littered around the place. Killed her and escaped thinking she’d kidnapped you or something.

It made her glance over her shoulder.

“ you’re not gonna hurt me are you “ you said suddenly. It came out as more of statement or a fact than a question though, like you were telling yourself out loud to confirm it. Not really asking her.

“ if I wanted to hurt you I would’ve done it by now. Fuck I wouldn’t have even risked my ass bringing you though the wall “ she made her way back over to you, placing down a couple of the rationed food bars she had in front of you “ they taste like shit. But apparently one bar equals a whole fuckin meal or whatever propaganda bullshit the Military wanna tell us. Just tryna make us eat less “

“ thank you “ your eyes suddenly seemed ravenous, grabbing at the bar and taking a large bite

“ fuck. Slow down. You haven’t eaten in a week you keep going like that you’ll puke the whole thing up in ten minutes “ your cheeks flushed and you nodded, taking smaller nibbles from the shitty food bar. Looking at them already made her crave the fresh food from Bills. It’d only been days and she’d do anything for a vegetable that actually crunched. And had taste “ you can stay here till your ankles fixed… just be quiet. Stay out of sight. Last thing I want is my neck hanging from a fuckin rope because i got caught with an unregistered citizen. Okay? “

“ thank you “ she moved back to the table then, not really knowing what else she was supposed to say to you, and made herself look busy by counting ration cards. As if she hadn’t already gotten the exact number already twice over.

She was mildly regretting bringing you back. What was she supposed to do with you now? At least when you were asleep she didn’t have to worry about you drawing attention to yourself. Now you were awake, what if someone saw you. Or you decided you were in fact scared of her and started screaming or something.

She was such a fuckin idiot. Always acting on impulse when she was tired. And she had been after that hike from Lincoln. She was usually quite rational, but that all went out the window with you clearly. She should’ve listened to Joel. She probably wouldn’t even remember you by now if she’d just left you there. And now? Now she was stuck with an unregistered citizen in her apartment for fuck knows how long.

Way to fuckin go Tess.

“ I didn’t think.. I didn’t think you’d actually hurt me you know? “ you said as she stacked the cards, her eyes flickered up to find you watching her “ I just. I don’t know why I asked really. I actually feel pretty safe here. That’s stupid isn’t it? “

“ a little bit stupid. Yeah “ she agreed.

“ No one’s kind anymore. But you are. You helped me “ was she kind? Was she? She used to be. She wasn’t so sure anymore “ and you’re a woman “

“ nice observation “

“ no I mean. Men were shitty before but now? We ran into this group on the way here… I can’t remember their names but. They just took girls because they could. Kept them like slaves. Infected aren’t the scariest thing out there “ she knew that was true. Not to say that some women weren’t just as shitty. But the men were having a field day with the apocalypse. All rules had gone out the window.

It was stupid of you to trust her so easily, woman or not. She could very much have been planning to hurt you. Or demand something in return for her good nature. She wasn’t going to of course. But most people would’ve done that. If they’d even bothered to stop to help you at all.

Maybe she was kind.

By your third night- well. Nights that you were aware of anyway- in her apartment she was starting to miss when you were passed out. You woke up screaming somewhere in the early hours each night, thrashing around in the sheets and sobbing about things you couldn’t seem to explain to her.

So much for not drawing any attention to yourself.

She knew you couldn’t help it. Not really. She knew first hand from Joel. From her own nightmares that liked to sneak their way into her dreams from time to time. But you needed to be quiet.

She wondered if you’d been trapped in an endless cycle of those dream when you were unconscious. If you had been watching them on a loop as she attempted to care for you, looking so peaceful but screaming on the inside.

“ you wanna talk about those dreams of yours? “ she asked on morning number four. Remembering some slight memory of her mother telling her that talking about bad dreams would make them go away when she was a kid. Something she probably would’ve then gone on to tell her own kids. One of those small twists of the truth that parents did to try and make their children feel better. Something little and mostly useless that they took into adulthood. Even knowing that it wasn’t entirely true. But it worked a little bit.

So it was worth a try. Wasn’t it. Just because she needed you to be quiet. Not that she really cared. Of course she didn’t care. Why would she.

She couldn’t. Caring was dangerous.

“ I’m sorry I know you said about the noi- “

“ yeah you’re waking up the whole fuckin block every night sweetheart you need to get that under control “ she watched your face flush slightly in a way she had noticed you did when she slipped in the pet name. But maybe it was a mixture of embarrassment too.

It didn’t make you special. It was almost… condescending. Her way of keeping herself that one step above on the ladder, she didn’t care.

She didn’t.

“ I’m sorry I’m trying “

“ try a little harder “ you sighed and dropped your head into your hands, shaking your head. Were you crying?

“ I’m sorry “ you were “ I just keep seeing… seeing all the people and the blood and the rain and- “ she walked over to you, observing you like a injured animal that wasn’t quite sure what to do with. The kind where she didn’t know if it was kinder to kill it and put it out of it’s misery or to attempt to console it and bring it back to health.

Though clearly she was already doing the latter.

“ I told you. Tell me about them “ that came out a little lighter than she had initially meant. But she didn’t linger on it “ get it out. Probably won’t make them stop but. Might help “

You seemed to debate it, wiping at the tears on your cheeks and sighing.

She had to admit she was curious to know what was tormenting you. In the world they lived in there was plenty of things it could’ve been. They were 10 years in now and she still saw flashes of outbreak day in her dreams sometimes. Still remembered the first person she had seen infected. The first she had killed.

Death no longer bothered her. She had become numb to it in every way. Paths she had had no choice but to take, that had lead to her ending up that way. She did what she had to do to survive. But you seemed to still be coming to terms with the world around you.

You shuffled to move next to her, hanging your legs over the side of the bed with a small wince as you moved the ankle that was bandaged up.

“ me and a group. 9 of us? We were heading for the QZ. There was more of us at the start but… Pittsburgh is falling apart. A group of us snook out before it could get any worse. If that place lasts another year I’ll be surprised “ she’d heard of QZs falling apart all over the country. Boston was one of the only ones that FEDRA still had a relatively tight grip on “ we made it to the outskirts of the city… these runners came from no where and- “

She sat down on the edge of the bed as you tried to compose yourself a little, surprised to find her chest hurting a little as she watched you. Maybe it was because you seemed so… vulnerable. Somehow avoiding the hardships of the last ten years and behaving like the outbreak had only just begun.

She couldn’t help but feel inclined to protect you.

“ and how’d you end up at the bottom of that slope? “

“ me and 2 others. We made it pretty deep into the city, one of them said we should cut through the buildings. The road was fucked so I agreed. We got separated. Runners. Clickers. I just ran. Last thing I remember is the rain and and tryna get around the mess on the roads… guess I fell. Then you found me”

You’d escaped runners and clickers, and outlasted your entire group. You were really stronger than she thought. Vulnerable, yes, but still strong.

“ and that’s what you keep seeing? In your dreams? “ you nodded and sighed.

“ the others being ripped apart. Clickers chasing me. It’s so stupid I’m sorry. I’ll try to be quiet… I just wish they’d stop“ you dropped your head against her shoulder with a small sigh. Tess didn’t really know what to do. The gentleness of the act was almost alien to her now.

No one had been gentle with her for 10 years. Not even Joel.

You were doing something to her. Had done from the moment she’d seen you lying half dead on the floor outside. The fact that she had stopped at all. That she had brought you back. That in the 3 days you had been awake, the near constant 72 hours in your company, you had declared feeling safe with her. That you trusted her. That you looked at her and believed she could be gentle.

And Tess didn’t know how to react to it. What to do with it. She didn’t have a snarky remark to give you, simply out of fear of hurting your feelings or upsetting you. Which was ridiculous. Since when did she care about people’s feelings?

“ I promise I’ll try control it. Maybe you’re right. Maybe talking about it helped “

“ yeah. Maybe “

She had the sudden urge to tell you it’ll be okay. That she had nightmares too. That she’d lost count of the amount times she woke up in a cold sweat, images of her husband in a pool of his own blood flashing behind her eyelids, the sounds of her son fighting to escape the basement she had locked him in ringing in her ears.

Nothing haunted her more than that day. Everyone had their ghosts.

She didn’t even tell Joel but there she was wanting to tell you. To relate. To console.

She stood up before she could. Clearing her throat and heading for the door. She needed to get out of that apartment.

“ where are you going? “ the look on your face was like that of a kicked puppy, eyes wide and sad. She really needed to get out of that apartment.

“ I have shit to do. Stay quiet. Don’t open the door. I’ll be back in a few hours “ she pulled on her boots as she spoke, grabbing her bag and heading out the door in a hurry.

She needed to get back out among people that feared her. People that knew how dangerous she could be. Just to remind herself she was feared. She was dangerous. She wasn’t soft.

She. Didn’t. Care.

The fourth night was the same. She woke up to the clock on the wall showing 3:30am, you screaming at the top of your lungs and begging for help.

She got up from her makeshift bed on the couch and headed for the kitchen to get you some water, in the way that was becoming routine now. Usually by the time she reached you you’d stopped, but not tonight. You were thrashing around in the sheets, eyes still clenched tightly closed as you sobbed and screamed.

She placed the water down, her brows furrowed and sat herself on the edge of the bed. She grabbed at your arms to stop your thrashing before you hurt yourself

“ hey! You’re okay, look at me come on. Sweetheart, look at me. Just a dream. C’mon now “ your eyes flung open, terror swirling in your dilated pupils “ that’s it. Look around. You’re awake. You’re safe. You’re safe “

Clearly talking about it hadn’t helped. If anything it had made it worse.

“ no! Please- no! “

“ you gotta be quiet. Look. At. Me! “ she grabbed at your face, forcing your wild eyes to focus on her instead “ that’s it. Look at me. You see me? Not a fuckin clicker. No mushrooms in sight. You were dreamin again “ you seemed to register her words, slowly calming down as you took in her face in front of you.

“ Tess “ you whispered it with such relief, like some kind of wish in a prayer had been granted.

“ yeah. That’s right. It’s me “ you leaned into her touch, apparently grounding yourself again against the feel of her hands against your cheek. She watched you intently, the way you had known her for such little time but so clearly found comfort in her. In her touch.

She wondered if you knew the things she were capable of… if you knew the things she had done. Would you be so willing to sit there with her like that?

She let go of you and stood up.

“ no “ you said suddenly, fingers wrapping around her wrist as she attempted to return to the couch “ sorry I- “ she looked down at your hand, the way you held onto her “ I mean- can you. Could you… would you… stay? Here. With me “ she didn’t quite know why the word ‘ yeah ‘ flew into her mouth before she could even think about what you’d said. But she stopped it before it could escape “ please Tess. I’m so scared… I’d feel better if you were here “

“ I’m just around the other side of the wall “

“ please. You make me feel safe “ that took her aback. She didn’t have a single idea how to respond to that. Safe. She made you feel safe.

People didn’t feel safe around her. They felt afraid. They felt submissive to her power, they begged for their life, they felt dependent on her for their pills. They didn’t feel… safe.

But hadn’t that been what she had been trying to achieve? Hadn’t she wanted to make you feel safe. That you could exist around her and not be scared she’d hurt you. And it felt different yes, but. It felt nice too.

“ okay “ it came out far less confident than she’d wanted it to and she cleared her throat, trying to shake off the clearly obvious confusion she was experiencing “ yeah. Yeah. I’ll stay if you want “ you closed your eyes in relief and gave her a small smile, letting go of her wrist.

She watched you pull back the covers beside her and she got in, keeping a nice distance between you both. She had to admit it felt nice to be back in her bed. It wasn’t the most comfortable of things but anything was better than the couch for another night.

It felt strange laying next to someone though. She hadn’t done that for a long. Long. Time. Even when she had made her way through her string of flings and one time things, she hardly ever brought them back to her apartment. And they never slept in her bed if she did bring anyone back. She never let anyone invade her space. That felt too personal.

And yet there you were. In her bed. In her clothes. Finding herself annoyingly thinking about how much better that T-shirt looked on you than it did on her. And trying to ignore how unbelievably normal it felt having you there now. Even more so how normal and comfortable she was having you sleeping beside her.

She turned on her side to look at you, see how at peace you now looked. Your face no longer screwed up in terror, or eyes flashing wildly around the room. The only evidence of your dream the dried tear marks along your cheeks.

She reached out before she could stop herself, wiping at them softly with her fingers. There was a small scar on your left cheek below your eye, she let her finger trace it and wondered how you’d gotten it. She had too many scars to count now. Her face littered with nicks and dotted with freckles from the sun. She wondered if the face she was looking at now had changed in 10 years. If the face you now owned had looked different before the world fell apart.

She instinctively tried to pull away when your hand suddenly moved, placing it over hers gently and holding it in place.

She waited for the embarrassment to come, to ramble some excuse and probably excuse herself back to the couch. But your eyes remained closed, maybe in fear of embarrassing her. Whatever it was. She was grateful. And she let you hold her there, her hand still cupping your face as she fell asleep herself.

“ alright. Come here come look at these “ Tess broke the comfortable silence that had settled over the apartment for the last few hours, drawing your attention away from the book she had given you. She watched as you hopped your way over to the kitchen table, grabbing onto things to keep your balance whilst keeping your injured ankle off the floor.

She’d been working on papers for you for most of the day. Some half cooked insurance policy that made it look like you were a registered citizen if FEDRA happened to come knocking.

Even if they didn’t work entirely they’d still give her enough of a window to get you out before they returned again. And something was better than nothing she supposed.

“ FEDRA do random door to door checks, checking for infection “ she explained when you slumped into the chair next to her “ When they can fuckin be bothered to do it anyway… but if they do there’s a chance they’ll question why you’re here. This apartments only assigned to me, but as long as they think you’re registered it won’t matter. So. Fake papers. According to FEDRA your name is now Christine Hurley “ she didn’t mention that the real Christine Hurley was in fact in a ditch in one of the back alleys of area 2.

That the real Christine Hurley had thought trying to scam her and Joel with fake ration cards was a good idea, and had gotten a bullet in the forehead for her troubles.

“ and these will work? “

“ yeah. I make fake papers all the time to get me and Joel in and out of different areas. Should’ve been a forger pre outbreak. I’d have been rich as fuck” you laughed at that and she almost hated the way it made her heart skip. You were making her too fuckin soft and it was annoying. It was frustrating. She’d known you barely two weeks now, some of which you’d been unconscious, and yet you were making her soft. You were making her feel. Which was ridiculous

“ won’t they still question why I’m here?”

“ yeah but. They won’t really care. As long as you have papers they don’t give a shit. Found me with a girl here before. Idiot didn’t carry her papers with her. Arrested and… well fuck knows where she is now “ your face seemed to change ever so slightly at that and she wondered why “ just keep them with you”

“ you’ve had girls here before? What make a habit of rescuing people do you? “ she scoffed at that. Did she seem like the type to go around rescuing people every day?

“ no. She was here for… she was perfectly healthy. No rescuing “ it seemed to take you a moment before your eyebrows arched and you gave a nervous laugh.

“ oh “ she wasn’t embarrassed, she never had been when it came to sex or her enjoyment of it. She wondered if anyone else would’ve been. Maybe because you didn’t seem uncomfortable at the thought, in fact you seemed quite pleased about it. Something mischievous almost flashing in your eyes. “ interesting “

“ interesting? “

“ yeah. It’s interesting “ Tess raised an eyebrow but you simply shrugged, a smile tugging at your lips that you were seemingly trying and failing to suppress.

It didn’t seem mocking. More… knowing.

She changed the subject.

“ well. There’s your papers. Keep em with you “ you nodded and scanned over them, learning the new information about yourself whilst you were inside Bostons walls. Tess packed her stuff away and stood up, taking it over to the kitchen counter to hide it away in the small stash behind the back of one of the cupboards.

“ was she your girlfriend? “ Tess froze for a moment as you spoke, glancing slightly behind her to look at you. You were still looking down at the papers, like it was a casual topic to simply make conversation.

“ who? “

“ the girl. The one who didn’t have her papers “ she quirked an eyebrow and turned around , folding her arms across her chest and leaning back against the counter

“ why’d you ask? “

“ is that a yes “

“ it’s not “ you hummed a response, flipping the first page over to look at the other which listed all of the work assignments Christine had completed “ she wasn’t my girlfriend. I don’t… I don’t do girlfriends. Or boyfriends for that matter “

“ ahh. You’re one of those people. Alright “ you said, smiling down at the paper and clearly no longer reading it

“ what’s that supposed to mean? “

“ nothing bad. I’m just observing “ you finally looked up, sitting back in the chair with amusement on your face. It was a nice change from the sadness that seemed to be settling over your face every now and again “ let me guess. You get bored. Or lonely. So you go out, find a find a girl. Or a guy. Fuck them. Then leave them. That right? “

It was right. And she hated that you’d read her so easily.

“ no “ you scoffed at that

“ sure. But lemme ask you. Do you really feel less lonely? When you’re with them? Or is it something else? “ she didn’t like where this conversation was going. At all. Or the fact that it genuinely made her think. No. Of course it didn’t make her feel less lonely. If anything it simply made it worse

“ I’m not lonely. I’m better on my own “

“ I don’t think that’s true “

“ yeah. Well you know nothing about me” her words were a little harsh. Defensive. She didn’t want people knowing about her, didn’t need someone trying to figure her out.

“ but I want to know “ you didn’t seem shocked by her tone, or her words.

“ you don’t “ she didn’t want to tell you. She didn’t want to tell you about herself or reveal things about her.

Because it would only scare you off. She knew it.

“ hmmm. I do “ you smiled as you said it and she couldnt help the way it eased the tension brewing in her muscles “ you don’t have to tell me bad stuff. Just. Tell me fun stuff. I’m so starved of like… girl talk “ Tess scoffed

“ there were no girls in your group? “

“ there was two. One was a kid. And the other liked to grab me when her boyfriend pissed her off. Then tell me after it was totally a ‘ one time thing and she was literally so straight ‘ “ you said with a laugh and bending your fingers into air quotes.

“ oh I’ve known a few like that “ Tess found she didn’t actually mind that topic of conversation. Because it was something she was comfortable with and something she could control. And didn’t directly reveal anything about herself. So she sat herself back at the table with you.

“ so was I right then? You just fucking your way through the QZ for the fun of it? “

“ I wouldn’t exactly put it like that “

“ so how would you put it “ you leant forward, chin on your hand and a cheeky smile plastered across your face. You were loving it. And Tess did have to admit talking to someone other than Joel was a decent change.

“ the worlds a pile of shit. I won’t deny myself small pleasures “ your grin grew at that

“ bet you have them lining up for you huh? That scary thing you do… yeah. I bet the guys don’t like that though, you whip them into shape too? “ you said and wiggled your eyebrows in a way she couldn’t help but laugh at. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d really laughed.

“ I prefer women. They’re more interesting to look at “

“ agreed “ even before the outbreak she’d preferred girls. It was true, they were far more interesting, softer, squishier, easier to navigate. Prettier. She couldn’t help the way her eyes wandered over you, mind suddenly running wild. And from the look in your eyes, so was yours.

Two evidently touch starved people in such close proximity, with that topic of conversation was never going to end well.

And so she distanced herself before she could put herself in a compromising situation.

“ I have to go do some work. But I’ll be back soon “ she said and stood up, heading for the door and grabbing her backpack “ don’t- “

“ open the door. Make any sound. Draw any attention to myself. Yes ma’am “ you said, that grin still stuck on your face “ oh and don’t go bringing anyone else back here. You might make me jealous “ you looked back down at your papers then, leaving Tess’ mind still reeling as she opened the door and headed out.

—————————————————————

The nightmares came again that night, seemingly worse than the previous, leaving you in floods of tears after you woke up. And to Tess’ surprise you fell into her arms, clutching at her tshirt as you sobbed and sniffled. She felt her previous annoyance at being woken up fizzle away in an instant, replaced with a deep ache in her chest. Pain at seeing you so upset when you had been so happy during the day.

It concerned her slightly how much she enjoyed your smile. The way your eyes lit up around her. And how much she hated the tears and the sadness now plaguing your features.

“ you’re okay sweetheart. I’ve got you “ she said softly, tucking your head under her chin in a way that surprised her as your sobs turned to hiccups and sniffles. You were gripping her tightly, fingers twisted into the material of her shirt as if you were afraid she was about to push you away and leave you there.

Maybe if you had done that on night one she would’ve. It was strange how much had changed in days. How being around you practically 24/7 had changed her thoughts. She didn’t know if she liked it. if she liked how you seemed to be wiggling your way through the cold exterior of her heart, like a worm trying to reach the core of an apple. Burrowing through until it could reach the centre and stay there.

That almost did make her let you go.

She couldn’t have that. She couldn’t have herself worrying about someone else. Caring about someone else. That was dangerous. And you didn’t care for her. You didn’t worry. So why should she? Why should she allow herself the stupidity of getting into something so clearly one sided. And something she so clearly didn’t have control over. It scared her.

She felt like she was in a car that had had its breaks cut, hurtling towards a brick wall and she had no way of bringing it to a stop.

She really was getting soft. Ridiculously so. There she was sat at her table flicking through a faded and damaged medical book she’d traded for on the black market the previous day, so she could try and figure out how to get you back on your feet again.

She was reluctantly letting it happen now. Just accepting that she was doomed. That for the short time you would be with her she would allow herself this pathetic softness. And the second you were gone she would have her control back. It was all your fault. Yours completely. Luring her in to believe she could feel. To believe she was allowed to feel. To believe that someone could possibly feel for her.

It was stupid. So. Fucking. Stupid.

“ so I’m pretty sure just a super fuckin bad sprain. Says here… two weeks it’ll normally start feeling better. But can take up to eight to fully heal “ she said, clearing her throat in some attempt to distract her thoughts.

“ it does feel better than when I first woke up. So two weeks is accurate “ she placed the book down and went over to where you had your ankle up resting on a couch cushion. She peeled away the bandages she’d wrapped tightly around it to give it some support, pressing and poking slightly at the fading bruises.

“ can you move it? Wiggle your toes and shit? “ you did just that and she shrugged. She was no doctor. But she patched herself and Joel up enough over the years “ alright. c’mon. Up “ she held out her hands and you took them, they looked so soft and delicate compared to hers. A scar here and there but somehow mostly clear. Nothing compared to the scratches and scrapes on hers. The scars on her knuckles from the numerous times she’d split them open.

Hands like that didn’t fit together. Didn’t meet. Hands like hers didn’t deserve the privilege of touching hands like yours. Hands like hers didn’t deserve to touch anyone in a gentle way. They were for business. For hurting. For pain. Yours weren’t. Yours were soft. Smooth. Yours were made for caressing and soothing, for receiving soft kisses on the back.

She was losing it.

She guided one of your arms around her shoulders and helped you get your balance.

“ don’t try walk. Just. Just try put your weight on it “

“ what if- “

“ don’t worry. I’ve got you. Just be careful yeah? “ she watched you carefully as you gently placed your foot down, eyebrows furrowing as you did and hissing in pain through your teeth “ I said carefully “ you sighed and put it flat on the floor but still heavily leaning against her “ feels okay? “

“ hurts “ Tess nodded and held you tighter around the waist

“ try not to lean on me so much. You won’t fall over. I’ve got a hold of you “

“ oh you’re gonna catch me? “ you said with a small laugh, eyes flickering up to hers briefly. The tone of your voice made her throat a little dry and she couldn’t figure out exactly why.

“ yeah. Yeah I got you “ your face screwed up slightly as she watched you out more of your weight onto it and get used to the feeling.

She held you there for a couple of minutes to regain your balance before slipping your arm off of her and holding your hands in hers.

“ now try walk. Hold onto me “

“ I don’t think I- “

“ just try. Look at me “ you watched her face carefully as she took small steps back, helping you to get used to the feeling of the ankle being used again.

She was glad Joel had work assignments that day. She didn’t think she’d ever live it down if he turned up at her apartment and saw that. Saw her holding you so carefully and helping you walk again like a child.

But she found in the hour or so that she did it, her cheeks began to hurt from smiling. For once in her life feeling like the world wasn’t on her shoulders, happy. Smiling. You smiling with her.

It was nice.

“ you got it! Nice work sweetheart “ she watched the utter joy on your face as you managed to keep your balance on your own and walk before falling into her arms.

“ fuck yeah “ you laughed seemingly now exhausted from the small amount of work. But she didn’t blame you after so long unable to do anything “ can we rest now? “

“ we can do whatever you want “ she said with a small laugh, arms wrapped around you to keep you up right.

“ anything? “ you asked quietly, smile fading slightly and looking up at her intently. Tess furrowed her brows, slightly confused at what exactly you were asking her.

It took her completely by surprise when you leant up and kissed her. Standing practically shell shocked as you pressed your lips to hers. It was only a few seconds and then you were pulling back, cheeks flaming red and closing your eyes with a shake of your head

“ god I’m so- Tess I’m sorry I don’t know why I- “

“ you need to rest “ she said and cleared her throat, not wanting to think about had just happened for even a second. Not prepared to deal with the spiral it would inevitably send her down.

All she knew. Was that she was fucked. well. And truly. Fucked.

“ just stay close to me. Try not to talk to anyone. And don’t touch anything“ Tess instructed as she pushed back a palette keeping one of the exits out of the tunnels covered

“ yes ma’am “ you said with a smile and a mock salute, following her through the gap and standing patiently as she dragged the palette back into place “ will there be officers? “

“ maybe. But the ones around here are just as bad as the smugglers. They’re some of our best customers for pills. Turns out sending people to the gallows everyday can fuck you up. Who’d have guessed? Just do as I say “ you stood ridiculously close to her, eventually wrapping your fingers around her wrist as you both entered the courtyard. She wasn’t in the mood to loiter and headed straight for the people she needed. Trading off cards for boots, a new jacket, some shirts and jeans.

Stuff you’d need. That she didn’t have a surplus of.

Ration cards were as precious as gold those days. And she was spending her hard earned ones on you. She definitely wouldn’t telling Joel about that.

She found she didn’t mind though. She wanted you to be prepared. Safe. And the boots she’d found you in barely had any soles left. You wouldn’t get far in those.

It had been a week since you’d kissed her and neither of you had mentioned it since. Falling back into that comfortable thing you’d been developing before. Where you could make her laugh and smile. And you would tease her for being too grumpy which would make you smile.

It was odd how normal it was starting to feel having you around. But she always ruined the moment by thinking about the future. About how empty her apartment would feel when you leave. She’d gotten used to you. And she almost didn’t want to let you go.

Maybe she could work something out, wrap some officers around to her thinking and get you some official papers. She could train you up to help her with her smuggling, show you the ropes and tell you who the best people to deal with were. And who to avoid like the plague.

It could be nice.

“ Tess. Haven’t seen you around for a few days. Where you been hiding? “ she felt you tense beside her as one of the FEDRA officers on her client list made his way towards her. He was a cocky son of a bitch, one who constantly tried to make her lower her prices and was notoriously known for being too heavy handed with the girls he paid for. And had been trying to get his way into her pants for months. Seemingly thinking offering her his dick was worth a half price deal on his pills.

“ don’t. Speak. Let me do the talking “ Tess said in a low voice close to your ear, looking like she was entirely too fascinated by the piles of clothes in front of her “ I’m not selling today Marcus. You know I don’t get shit until the end of the month “

“ I know. I know. Cant I be friendly and say hello? “ she rolled her eyes, hoping he’d just fuck off and leave her be now that he knew she didn’t have what he wanted “ who’s the new pet? Following you around like a little lost puppy? “ you shuffled closer to her if that was even possible, fingers tightly gripping at her wrist.

“ that’s none of your concern “

“ pretty thing “ he said with a smirk, craning his head to try and look at where you were attempting to hide behind her. She surprised herself for the millionth time since she’d found you, when she felt a burning jealousy in her chest. She didnt like the thought of anyone talking about you. Even looking at you. Thinking about you. Which was fuckin. Stupid. But she hated it “ maybe you come give me a visit when she’s done with you huh? “

“ I don’t think so “ her voice was bitter, unable to stop herself from appearing as jealous as she was

“ what? Cant she speak for herself? Come on Tess. It’s nice to share “

“ not this one “ she freed her wrist from your grasp and draped her arm around your shoulder instead, pulling you against her body. You sighed a slight sigh of relief at the contact, pressing yourself against her. She tossed down some more cards for the clothes and handed them to you “ put ‘em in your bag “ you did as you were told, the slightly worried expression that had been on you face still there. But a little less now she had a hold of you.

“ settling down? You’re not the type. You send her my way when you get bored. I’ll be waiting. I’ll even pay you double on my next batch “ Tess scoffed and turned to face him, trying to ignore the burning anger boiling away in her chest at the thought of him anywhere near you.

She saw the state he left some girls in, the thought of that happening to you was enough to make her want to put a bullet through his head in the middle of the courtyard.

“ you know that’s not my game “ he shrugged and raised his hands in mock surrender “ go talk to Robert he’ll point you in the right direction. But this one? She’s mine. So back the fuck off. And come find me at the end of the month for your shit. Okay? “ she enjoyed the way that even the officers listened when she commanded it, that the simple tone of voice and the reputation she was gaining was enough to make anyone do as she said.

“ alright alright. Stay out of trouble “ he said with another smirk, but not as smug as it previously had been “ and you “ he said, throwing a wink at you and walked away.

“ let’s get you home yeah? “ she said it loud enough that she hoped Marcus heard it. That you were going back with her. Not him. Never him.

“ yes please “ she could feel your eyes burning into her as you walked back, almost tripping up because you weren’t paying attention to where you were walking.

You seemed flustered. Frantic almost. She wondered if Marcus had shaken you up, overwhelmed you.

She couldn’t have been more wrong if she’d tried. Once you both got back into her apartment she realised what had gotten into you.

You grabbed at her arm when she closed the door, yanking at her with a confidence she hadn’t seen from you before. You pulled her close and to her surprise yet again, you kissed her. For the second time. It was a lot more confident than the first, more… desperate. Your lips pressing harder against hers than she’d expected.

She found herself kissing you back that time, turning you around and crowding you back against the door. She knew she shouldn’t haven given in, shouldn’t be letting her desire her in the way of what she knew was right and wrong.

But she couldn’t help herself.

Maybe it was the pent up jealousy and anger from down in the market, kissing you being the safest form of release for it. And the most enjoyable. Not that battering the fuck out of Marcus wouldn’t have been thoroughly enjoyable. But making out with you? It beat anything else by miles.

It made her regret not kissing you back the first time, when your lips felt like that against hers. Tasted like that. It felt cruel to have denied herself of it.

It was the feel of your fingers gently pushing at her shirt that snapped her back into reality, made her see some common sense again.

“ hey. Hey we can’t “ she said softly, hands soothing over your arms and closing her eyes for a moment. She sighed and looked at you, your cheeks flushed “ we can’t “ she didn’t explain herself. Couldn’t. Couldn’t tell you that she was getting far too attached. That sleeping with you could well and truly be the final nail in the coffin that she was burying herself in.

“ I’m sorry “ you said, clearly embarrassed. Tess couldn’t tear her eyes away from your lips. Parted and glossy with saliva. She wanted to kiss you again.

“ it’s okay. Don’t sweat it “ she looked away before she could.

“ just. The way you were out there. With that officer and and the way you spoke about me I- god “ she found a smile tugging at her lips as she watched your flustered attempt to explain, groaning and putting your head in your hands. She nudged her fingers under your chin to make you look at her, noticing the way your breath shuddered slightly. You were so easy to work up.

“ don’t be embarrassed “ she could practically see you melting under her gaze, the low tone of her voice and intense gaze making you look ready to drop to your knees. And wouldn’t that be a sight.

A sight she had to remind herself she did not need to see.

“ go empty your bag, take a shower or something i don’t know about you but that market makes me feel grimy as fuck. Then we won’t talk about it. Yeah?” You nodded your head and gave her a warm smile

“ yeah “ she stepped away from you, watching you head for the bathroom and close the door behind you. She ran a hand over her face, a deep sigh shuddering past her lips. What was she doing?

Usually she would’ve kept going. Would’ve happily fucked you and been fine about it. She was no stranger to doing just that and then moving on. But there was something about you. Something about the anger she had felt around Marcus, the jealousy and the possessiveness.

Even the fact that she was still sharing a bed with you. And most nights now she’d wake up to find you pressed against her. Cuddling like a couple as if it were the most normal thing. That she enjoyed waking up to your smile, your eyes. You.

What had you done to her?

“ I think you’re gonna have to go soon “ the realisation of the fact had hit her like a ton of bricks that morning. Or maybe it had been sooner than that and she had been forcing herself to ignore it.

Your lack of reaction told her you probably knew that.

Staying with her had never been a permanent thing. But she felt she was pushing her luck now, the fact you had managed to stay as long as you had was a miracle in itself.

“ they found a whole group of unregistered people in an apartment in area 3 the other day. FEDRAS upping their random checks and… look I’m good at fake papers but they can only do so much. If they find out you’re not a registered citizen they’ll have you up on the gallows before you can even tell them your real name “ she ran a hand over her face with a deep sigh “ and I can’t fuckin see that happen to you sweetheart I can’t “

You didn’t say anything right away, which she hated. It meant that her words hung there in the silence for a little too long. Gave her that minute too long to think about them and wish she could yank them back and shove them back down her throat.

Then your hand tentatively reached out for hers that was on the table, fingers ghosting over her knuckles before gently squeezing in what she assumed was your attempt at reassuring her.

“ I never thought I’d even make it into Boston and with your help I wouldn’t have. I thought you’d kick me out the moment I’d woken up. I never expected you to let me stay as long as you have and put yourself in a position… I’m trying to say thank you I guess. And that… I know… I know you wouldn’t tell me to go unless I really had to “

She glanced up at you and couldn’t quite read the expressions on your face. It annoyed her still. How she couldn’t get a grasp on you, couldn’t get into your head in the way she could with others. But that didn’t matter anymore did it. You were leaving.

“ I know this couple in a town not too far from here. That’s where I was coming from when I found you… Bill and Frank. I spoke to Frank last night on the radio and he said you can go there for a few days. They have more supplies than you can fuckin imagine they’ll give you what you need. Franks real good with the radio he’s gonna listen in, see what he can hear and find you a QZ that’s letting people in “ you nodded and gave her a small smile

“ how do I get there? “

“ I’ll take you “ there was never any question in that. You’d almost died on your way in. Never mind the way out. You nodded, processing the information.

Talking to Frank on the radio the previous night has been hard but now she was discussing with you it made it feel far too real. The stark realisation that you wouldn’t be in the room after tomorrow. You wouldn’t be in her bed, smiling at her when you woke up, loudly commenting on the book you were reading when a character did something you didn’t like. Just your presence .

“ c’mere for a second “ you rose to your feet instantly walking over to her and standing between her legs. She ran her hands gently along your legs and looked up at you, her gaze soft “ I’ll make sure you get there safe. I promise you Bill and Frank will help you out “

You straddled her thighs, looping your arms around her neck and pressing your forehead to hers. It felt too… romantic. Intimate. It felt exactly what she had been so terribly trying to avoid. but maybe she was stupid for ever thinking she could live with you and be around you so constantly and not end up in such a position. You were like a siren luring her in, filling her senses and overwhelming her with desire no matter how hard she attempted to fight it. No one would’ve been able to resist you. No one.

“ I’m gonna miss you “ you whispered, so close your lips brushed hers as you spoke “ I’m gonna miss your stupid face “ Tess chuckled at that.

“ stupid? “

“ mhm. So stupid “

“ so stupid you try kiss me any chance you fuckin get? “ it was the first time you’d both actually mentioned either of the kisses out loud. But she guessed it didn’t matter if it made things awkward now.

You were leaving. What did she have to lose.

“ I have a head injury I don’t think my thought process can be trusted “

“ it can’t “ you twisted a lock of her dark hair around your finger, another thing that felt casually intimate.

“ I guess I cant be blamed then. Cant be blamed for this either “ she refused to let her fears get the better of her that time. Taking the chance whilst she still had it, kissing you back with the same gentleness you were. It felt bittersweet. Nothing could be bad about kissing you, but the knowledge she might never get to kiss you again? That was painful.

“ I’m really gonna miss you “ you whispered once you pulled away, short breaths hitting Tess’ lips.

“ yeah sweetheart. I’ll miss you too “

Tess hadn’t anticipated the heavy feeling in chest on the last night with you in her apartment. Unable to sleep and simply staring up at the ceiling as you lay curled up beside her.

She reminisced on the weeks you’d spent with her. How much you’d managed to wiggle into her heart and make her feel things she thought she’d forgotten.

She felt stupid. But it was okay. You would be gone that time tomorrow, she would drink. She would forget. She would carry on. She would go back to normal. She tried to ignore the small voice in the back of her head telling her that wasn’t what she wanted now. But she had no choice.

She startled as your hand moved, sliding over her arm with a soft sigh

“ cant sleep either? “ she looked down to see your eyes wide awake and watching her. She’d miss the way you looked at her. Admired her. Never afraid.

“ no “ she turned onto her side, reaching out to tuck your hair away from your face “ it’s gonna be weird when you’re gone “ she confessed in a whisper, almost hoping it was too quiet for you to hear. It wasn’t of course.

“ yeah. I got used to looking at your grumpy face everyday “ she huffed a small laugh and rolled her eyes “ maybe I can write or something when I find a new QZ. Send radio messages. I don’t know. Something “

“ yeah. Maybe “ that would only hurt you both more she was certain of it. But she wouldn’t tell you that now. She’d let you hope and think of something good that the future may hold “ do you wanna try get some more sleep? “

“ No I can’t “ you said with a shake of your head and shuffled a little closer to her “ I can think of something to pass the time time though “ Tess smiled and slipped her hand around to the back of your neck

“ funny. So can I “ she pulled you towards her, capturing your lips with hers and pulling a soft sigh from you as she did. She regretted not kissing you more. Regretted not giving in to her thoughts whilst she’d had you, some half ditched attempt to protect herself. As if it still wouldn’t hurt.

You kissed different than anyone else she’d been with. Which sounded cheesy and she felt stupid for thinking it. But it was true. Girls that were being overly dramatic to try and get paid more or girls that were just like her. Lonely and looking for some form of human contact.

But you were… invested. Kissing her like you actually meant it. Tender and careful, soft moans into her mouth that were slowly working her up.

“ I thought of. Of something else. That. We could do. More than…kissing “ you whispered in between soft kisses “ if you want “ she didn’t need to second guess or even give it a single second of thought. You were leaving tomorrow whether she or you liked it or not. So what did she have to lose now? Nothing.

And who was she to deny herself of such pleasure in world full of a whole lot of pain. Especially now. Especially with you.

She pushed at you, placing her body on top of yours and caging your head between her arms, not giving you a second to even attempt to take control from her. Not that she thought she would really. Not when you had been so willing to do as exactly as you’d been told the entirety of your stay with her.

She felt ever so slightly out of practice. It wasn’t a lack of experience, Jesus if anything she had too much experience. Which she wasn’t entirely proud of but who the fuck cared? The world was ending. Had ended. She’d take any small ounce of pleasure she could seek out. You didn’t seem like the type for that. She couldn’t picture you slinking around in the less desirable areas picking up girls just because she wanted something- or rather someone- to do.

No. You seemed too… pure. For that. Tess wasn’t pure. Not at all. But she could pretend. She could pretend if that’s what you wanted. Though she wasn’t entirely sure it was. Not with the way your hands were grabbing at her, hands restless as they slipped under the hem of her shirt to touch her skin.

She kissed you until she had no choice but to pull away to breathe, immediately moving to your neck instead. Your skin was like a blank canvas and she was going to take great joy in marking it.

“ Tess “ you practically whimpered her name, pushing at her tshirt in some silent request to get it off. But she’d be damned if she was gonna let you get her naked first. Her fingers worked at the button up you’d gone to bed in, still working at your neck as she did. She hadn’t really liked the shirt on herself, so had happily let you take it when you’d picked it out. But on you? She almost didn’t want to take it off you completely. There was something about the thought of fucking you in her clothes…

She had to sit up to admire the view, reluctantly detaching her lips from your soft skin.

“ fuck “ she couldn’t help it, it left her mouth without her consent. The sight of you was enough to ruin her for life. Her shirt open and revealing your heaving chest, the blush creeping across your cheeks and the blossoming marks on your neck… oh she was fucked.

She reached out, grabbing at your tits and sighing heavily at how heavenly your body was. You’re back arching into her touch as she moulded the squishy flesh beneath her fingers, dropping her head down again to get her mouth on you too.

She was like a greyhound chasing a rabbit. Tunnel vision and a singular end goal, you the only thing in her sight. In her mind. Desperate to touch and taste and fill her senses with nothing other than you.

“ oh god “ you whined as she flattened her tongue, licking across your nipple and testing your reaction. She knew you’d be whiny. Knew you’d be someone she could work into a whimpering mess with ease.

She had a knack for knowing these things.

“ you’re fuckin beautiful “ she said as she rolled a nipple between her fingers, peppering kisses across your chest as she did “ so fuckin beautiful “ she was stupid to think she’d be able to forget you with a bottle of whiskey. How on earth would she ever get the image of you underneath her out of her mind.

You squirmed around beneath her, small sighs and whimpers escaping past your lips when she grazed her teeth against your skin. Your fingers lacing into her hair and scratching your blunt nails against her scalp.

She didn’t let herself get side tracked for too long, she had an end goal to reach that resulted in her head happily between your thighs. And with the sounds you were already making and the way you were squirming around, she got the picture you were more than ready for that.

She moved back up to be level with your face, kissing you again and letting her hands wander. Mapping out your body with her fingers so she could commit the thought to memory.

“ please Tess. I need you. God I need you just- please “ you whimpered into her mouth, raising your hips up against her in desperation. If you had been anyone else she’d have denied you. Made you beg and edged you until she was bored “ I waited weeks don’t make me wait any longer “

But she couldn’t do that to you. How could she possibly deny you of anything you wanted from her? When you were underneath her looking like that, making sounds like that.

“ weeks huh? “

“ yes “ that made her feel pretty fucking smug. But also made her feel slightly less stupid for… whatever it was she was feeling for you.

So she didn’t waste any time. Moving down your body after another kiss to your swollen lips.

She pulled your underwear down your legs soothing her hands over your thighs before pushing them apart. Making a point to leave the shirt on. Part of her felt like she shouldn’t be rushing. But she was desperate to taste you.

The noise that left your mouth when she parted you with her tongue was heavenly, she felt addicted in an instant. She wanted to hear it again. Over and over. She never wanted to hear a single other sound for the rest of her life. It paired with the look on your face had a small shuddering breath passing her own lips, in complete and utter awe of you.

She had wanted to draw it out, to have you writhing and whimpering and wreck you for anyone else. But the sounds you were making and the blissful look in your eyes… she was desperate to make you come. Desperate to see what you’d look like, what sounds that would draw out of you. Maybe it was a little selfish, but she didn’t care.

Your taste flooded her tongue and she was like a starving woman eating for the first time in days. She was feral.

Her arms looped around your thighs to keep you in place and she went to town. She wanted to feel you coming on her tongue, wanted to see the exact look on your face, know the taste.

She felt like she could stay there for hours. Days. Weeks. Trapped between the pillowy flesh of your thighs, senses flooded with you. Your taste on her tongue, your moans in her ears, soft skin beneath her fingers.

Your fingers pulled at her hair, whining her name in a way that made a smug smile creep its way onto her face.

“ you know it’s… it’s been a while so- “ you attempted to form a sentence, gasping and arching your back in between your words “ I don’t think I’ll last- fuck Tess “ that was practically music to her ears. And a lively boost to the ego that she had you on edge already.

“ that’s okay sweetheart, you wanna come for me? Yeah? “ you eyes were screwed shut and you nodded quickly, pushing her face closer to your cunt again which made her smile “ I got you”

It was only another minute or so until you were pulling almost painfully at her hair, holding on for dear life as you came on her tongue. You were stronger than she’d expected, managing to trap her head with your thighs even with her holding them, keeping her in place until your body went slack and she she came up gasping for air. With the biggest fucking smug grin on her face.

She looked up at you from her spot between your legs, admiring the blissful look on your face, the droplets of sweat along your sternum, her shirt still hanging open on you.

She made her way back up to your lips with a trail of kisses. Wet, soft, open mouthed kisses that made goosebumps rise on your skin.

“ you good? “ she asked, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips

“ good doesn’t even cut it “ she laughed as you beamed a smile, open your eyes to look up at her “ I wanted you to do that after the market “

“ I know you did “ she’d wanted to do it too. But she’d stopped herself like the idiot she clearly was. She moved to lay beside you, still watching you closely. She wanted to remember every detail of you. No matter how painful it would be. She wanted to remember.

“ you know what else I wanna do? “ you said, shuffling closer and trailing your hand along her waist and across the front of her. She grabbed at your hand before you could move it any closer, effectively stopping you in your tracks

“ please let me “ you whispered, eyes wide and glassy looking up at her like she was the last woman on earth. She wasn’t used to being looked at like that. Even with you. Even with you who had never looked at her with anything but some seemingly deep rooted adoration and affection. Never fear.

“ you don’t have to “ it was rare she let anyone reciprocate. She didn’t like the way it made her feel so… exposed. Vulnerable. Like some baby animal being lured into a lions den ready to be mauled to death.

You reached up with your other hand, gently brushing her dark hair away from her face and behind her ear. She didn’t entirely know how to react. She didn’t now what to do with such tenderness. It made her brain flash with an error code like some janky 90s PC. Her mind coming up blank when confronted with such care and compassion.

“ I know I don’t have to. But I want to. Please “ she was used to people wanting to please her. She could have any fucker running doing whatever she asked if she dangled a bag of pills in front of them, like donkeys working for carrots. But someone wanting to please her like that? To give simply because they felt like that, to not expect a single thing in return.

She didn’t know how to respond. Simply looked at you in silence. You seemed to see the cogs coming to a grinding halt in her head, eyes flickering over her face.

“ you’ll let me Tess? “ she still didn’t really now what to say. And it was starting to piss her off. She always knew what to say. She always knew what to do. But not with you.

You pushed lightly at her shoulder, urging her to lay on her back. And to her own surprise she found herself doing it, head falling against the pillow and your face re appearing above hers. That alone felt a little wrong. She never let anyone on top. Ever. Never sacrificed that power to anyone.

“ after all you’ve done for me “ you whispered against her lips, nudging your nose to hers “ you deserve something in return. Let me make you feel as good as you made me feel “ she could feel small tendrils of panic starting to wind their way up into her chest, twisting around her ribs and tightening. So she took back some control, hand slipping to the back of your neck and pulling you down to kiss her as hard as she could manage.

She knew you weren’t about to do anything bad. But it was simply the act of letting someone have her so vulnerable to them. It terrified her.

“ trust me “ you whispered in between kisses “ you trust me don’t you? “

“ yeah “ she surprised herself with how quickly she said it, how unbelievably certain she was of the fact. That she did trust you. In the weeks since you’d woken up she’d grown to trust you as much as she’d trust Joel. Maybe she was stupid for that.

She took a sharp intake of breath as your hand pushed past her underwear, fingers dipping into the wetness between her folds and softly circling her clit.

“ see, you’re wet. Pretty proud of myself for that “ you were trying to lighten the mood and it helped a little. A small smile trying to creep its way onto her face.

She was used to her own fingers and only her fingers. But yours were something else. Those soft gentle hands that she had felt looked so out of place in an apocalypse, felt like velvet. You watched her face intently and she almost felt embarrassed, it was odd for her. To be so exposed and so closely observed.

You slipped your fingers inside of her with ease, her eyes falling closed as she attempted to steady her breathing from the intrusion. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d let someone do that, she’d forgotten how it felt. It was nothing like how it felt to do it herself.

You were reaching places she never could, breathy sounds escaping her even when she tried to stop them.

“ I wish you could see what you looked like right now “ your voice was almost awe filled, like you were simply amazed the sight of her. Maybe you were

“ shut up “ she said, breathless, pulling you down to kiss her again in some attempt to change the subject. Not wanting the attention on herself, sinking her teeth into your bottom lip to make you whimper into her mouth again.

She figured she’d be done just as fast as you had been, especially when you seemed to know exactly where to touch. You hit some place devastating, the tight knot in her belly growing and growing

“ fuck. Stay right fuckin there “ she gasped, fingers gripping your wrist as you did as she’d asked. Focussing on the same spot over and over again. She kept her eyes on you. Kneeling over her, in her shirt, the sight alone was enough to finish her off.

She pulled you down to her mouth again, scared she’d do something embarrassing like make noise, kissing you as she came on your fingers. Holding you firmly in place as her walls convulsed around you and her body rushed with heat, every muscle tensing before going limp and leaving her feeling like a rag doll.

She was breathless as she let you go, her skin on fire and prickling with heat.

“ well fuck me “ she mumbled. Throwing an arm over her eyes for a moment and to her surprise, laughing. You giggled beside her laying down and slinging a leg over hers, both your skins slippery with sweat. But she didn’t care.

“ I just did didn’t I? “ you said in the most innocent tone, simply making her laugh again. You both settled into a comfortable silence then, lazily kissing until you dropped your head.

As you both lay there, your head resting on her chest and hand over her heart, she almost wanted to cry. Which was fucking stupid. She didn’t cry. That wasn’t her.

“ you know you’re still gonna have to leave “ she whispered “ it’s not safe for you to stay here “ she felt your breathing stutter slightly and she knew you were crying. But she didn’t mention it. Didn’t want to embarrass you or risk making herself cry too by acknowledging it “ you know you still have to go “You gave a small nod. You knew. You knew this was always going to be the outcome, both of you did.

“ yeah. I know “ she was silent for a few minutes before gently pushing at your body, urging you to turn on your side. She pressed herself against your back, her arms sliding gently over your waist and her nose nudging lightly at the back of your neck.

“ couple more hours “ she whispered against your skin “ couple more hours. Then I’ll take you to the wall… couple more “ you rested your hand over hers and nodded again, tears welling in her eyes as you did. She refused to let them fall. She wasn’t that pathetic.

“ couple more hours “ you echoed softly, voice barely above a whisper in some attempt to hide the evident crack in your tone as you seemingly failed at keeping the tears in “ just a couple more “

[aihoshiino]

Do you think Ai was emotionally numb? Or she was passive? I mean she is def not ok/stable emotionally but what do you think about her emotional state?

If anything, I would actually say the opposite - Ai's issue is that she feels things very strongly but after spending basically her entire life only able to express a very narrow band of her full emotional range, she has been left largely incapable of comprehending and contextualizing her own emotions.

This is likely something she would've had difficulty with regardless of whether or not she became an idol. Ai is explicitly a child of an extremely emotionally and physically abusive household and implicitly a person with autism. Both of these things individually can contribute to or correlate with the development of alexithymia, which is basically just the fancy medical term for the type of emotional blindness and struggles with organic empathy that we see present in Ai, both in the main series and the side stories.

The first chapter of Spica is quite telling in this regard, set as it is in the POV of a much younger Ai who is still fresh to being an idol and hasn't quite remade herself as a liar just yet. In fact, she is characterized here as being too honest, blunt and straightforward to the point of rudeness. But as Ai herself puts it:

All Ai ever did was say what was on her mind, plain and simple. It wasn't like she was going out of her way to make people either like or dislike her.

Not only is this fascinating from a perspective of contrast with her older self, it's also indicative that this alexithymia is something inherent to the way she behaves socially even outside of being an idol. This behavior is so instinctive to her, in fact, that part of her arc in Spica revolves around her having to literally, textually and explicitly learn how to mask and perform 'normal' behaviour like the presumably neurotypical people around. It's kind of funny how on the nose it is.

Now take all of that and add it to the fact that Ai spent all of her teen years, the period of her life where she would have been able to start working this shit out and forging her own identity, aggressively curating her emotional responses and performing a version of herself that is, by her own admission, simply inhuman. Always smiling, never showing any negativity or vulnerability. She must perform as a maximally enthralling and captivating version of herself, adhering to an ever-increasing and self-contradicting set of expectations. She is not just a person, but a product to be sold and one that must increasingly return the investments others have put into her. She has to be everything to everyone and even when she succeeds at doing so, she ends up being punished for it.

With all that in mind, it really is no surprise that she ends up relatively detached and necessarily distant from her own emotions as an idol, but that doesn't mean that she doesn't feel them as a person. At various points across the prologue arc, we even see her slip into spirals of negativity in surprising contrast to the assertions of characters later in the story that she never let any of it show.

Not only that but the biggest, most explosive show of outward emotion we ever see from Ai in the series is her spontaneous, authentic and goofy ass smile when she spots the twins performing their wota dance.

Definitely not the face of a girl who's emotionally numb!

[stormz369]

The King of Hell and Me: Ch 2 - Molting

Chapter Guide Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4

Summary: Lucifer goes missing because he's embarrassed. Preening ensues. Wolf-demon reader. Warnings: fluff, Lucifer being bad at vulnerability, animal characteristics, implied arousal, rated mature (maybe?) Word Count: 3k

Lucifer had his own home, of course. But since the hotel’s grand re-opening, he’d been staying in his suite here. To be closer to Charlie, or to get himself out of his depression funk, or maybe both, it wasn’t clear. Either way, we’d found ourselves spending a lot of time together. We ate breakfast together most days, he told me all about his most recent duck-based inventions, and he was the only person I let into my office while I was doing my work for the hotel. Charlie had hired me as an all-purpose consultant, letting me work on any projects I wanted, and I dove straight into the advertising/community outreach/PR side of things. My work didn’t typically look like much until I had a completed product to present, so I didn’t like to have people watching my process, and as long as I kept her in the loop Charlie didn’t mind my secretive ways. But Lucifer was a creative mind too. He understood that sitting at my desk apparently doing nothing wasn’t actually nothing, and he let me be.

He was also the only person allowed to put things in my office, but that was only because he felt it was odd that I was a wolf without a pack, -because “Even hellhounds have packs, dear girl! Wolf-demons aren’t that uncommon, you need a family!”- and had started making one for me, a slowly growing pack of rubber ducks with wolf ears and fluffy tails. Every so often I’d find a new one in my office, and each one did something unusual. A pair facing each other on the windowsill had a laser between them that would alert us to intruders, but most were silly things like duck-wolves that could jump and growl, or were actually soap dispensers or changed color with the weather. 

It actually worked out to be a mutually beneficial relationship. We both had a tendency to dive headfirst into our hyperfixations, and when one of us did, the other usually managed to keep them from spiraling too far. He’d comb my hair and fur, and remind me to take breaks. I’d bring him dinner and get him out of his room when he was getting frustrated. One time I even sat in the bathroom taking notes while he talked so he could shower without losing his flow. We weren't exactly romantic, but it was far more emotionally intimate than any romantic relationship I’d ever had. And, with no one else filling that role for either of us, we did end up on the receiving end of a lot of ‘old married couple’ jokes. 

And that’s why, when he suddenly just wasn’t at the hotel one morning, I got a bit nervous. And, I’ll be honest, frustrated. I reminded myself that just because we typically spent breakfasts together didn’t mean we had to every day. Just because he’d told me every time he was leaving the hotel for the last few months didn’t mean he was beholden to me. We were friends, but he wasn’t mine and I couldn’t tell him what to do. I had no right or reason to be put off by this unexpected change to my routine. So I ate breakfast alone, went down to my office to work alone, and … couldn’t get into it. I couldn’t focus, everything was just a bit off. I should be able to hear his breathing, see his faint glow out of the corner of my eye, feel his hands in my hair. But I was entirely, soul crushingly, alone. 

I texted him every day for the first week. Then once every few days, which quickly became once a week, but he never responded. He didn’t even look at them. I was starting to think he might be mad at me, but I couldn’t imagine what I could have done to upset him so much. I started working evenings, finding it less uncomfortable to be alone at night, but I had trouble getting much done either way. Charlie started bringing me breakfast in my office when everyone else had dinner. I appreciated that she was making sure I ate, but I was just as worried about her as she was about me. Lucifer hadn’t reached out to her either, and he wasn’t taking her calls, and her calm facade was starting to crack. At least she had Vaggie though. I was just alone.

A month into his disappearance I was working late again. Everyone was in bed, and I was trying to finish up this advertising campaign mock up for Charlie, when I heard the door of the hotel creak open. My ears perked up, and I cracked my office door open, listening carefully. I couldn’t make out who had come to visit. There were footsteps, light and airy but far too heavy to be Lucifer. I sniffed the air, glad for my more animalistic senses, hoping to catch some kind of clue. Friend, or foe? Welcome, or defend? The air smelled … musty, and damp. Something was very off.

I flicked my wrist, extending my claws, and made my way silently down the dark hallway. The intruder stumbled up the stairs, it would be silent to those without acute hearing, but I heard every step. I followed along, trying to visualize where they were from the sounds. They made their way past the elevator and up more flights of stairs, and I tracked along behind them, staying a floor below them to avoid detection. I wanted to know who they were, but I also wanted to know what they were looking for. When they finally made their way down a hallway, I glowered. They were on Charlie’s floor. I waited, listening halfway up the stairs so I could pounce if needed, until I heard them stop at a door. I jumped up, landing a few feet away from the short, trenchcoat clad figure. They jumped, pressing themself against the wall as if they could disappear through it, and dropped … a key?

“... Lucifer?” I whispered.

He turned toward me, a sheepish grin on his face. “... Heeey … I’m home!”

I sighed, scooping up his key and unlocking his door, gesturing for him to go inside. “Don’t wake Charlie.”

He nodded, darting inside. His footfalls were too heavy, he was hunched over a bit, and his back looked bulky under his coat. Something was wrong. He sat awkwardly on the couch, kicking his feet a bit. “Sooo … How’ve you been?”

“How have I been? … Luc, where have you been? … Y- you didn’t call, you didn’t tell anyone where you were going, or when you’d be back, you sneak in in the dead of night in whatever that is, you smell like a drowned bird, and you’re walking like an injured dog. And you ask how I’ve been???” A deranged laugh ripped its way out of my throat as I collapsed onto the seat next to him. “... Do you even care that we’ve all been worried sick? … I … you didn’t text me back … You were just … gone.”

He flinched a bit, hesitantly reaching for my hand. “... I .. I’m sorry, puppy … I didn’t mean to scare you. I just … I had something to attend to.”

I sighed softly, letting him take my hand. “What was so important that you couldn’t even tell us you were ok?”

“I … just had to …” He sighed. “Look, it’s kind of embarrassing, ok? I …” He mumbled something, a low whine in the back of his throat masking his words.

“... What was that?”

“I’m molting, ok?” He whined, shifting uncomfortably. “I’m molting, and I can’t comfortably put my wings away until it’s over, and they’re ugly right now! So I just … I thought I’d just go to the manor until it was over. I was only coming back tonight to get my sketchbook so I could work on a project…”

I blinked a bit, trying not to laugh. “... Right. … Just so I’m clear, cause I didn’t really interact with birds on earth. Molting is the one where birds lose a bunch of feathers and get new ones, right?” He nodded. “And it’s a yearly thing?”

He nodded again, “For most birds. Angels get a little one each year, and a big one each decade. It takes forever! It’s … unpleasant. Messy …” He grumbled softly; “humiliating.”

“Humiliating? It’s just part of having wings, isn’t it? How is that humiliating?”

“... You’ve seen my wings, what did you think of them?”

I let out a sigh, thinking. “... They’re bigger than I expected, but that makes sense since you’re not a bird. They’d have to be pretty big to lift you up … unless you’ve got hollow bones and they’re just ostentatious?” I chuckled a bit, hoping to lighten his mood, but it didn’t seem to work. “... They’re beautiful, and they look really soft … You look so majestic when you fly …”

“Exactly. … Beautiful. Majestic. That’s what they’re supposed to be … but when the molt comes they’re … really not that. … Molting is messy, and itchy, and … gross! … I look like a plucked chicken under this coat…” He whined softly, frustrated tears pricking at his eyes as he hid his face in his hands. “And the worst part is that I can’t even rush it along like we did in heaven, because I can’t reach!”

“... Can’t reach? … Do you have to pluck something, or?”

He nodded. “At the end of the molt the new feathers have these keratin sheaths that have to be removed … In heaven we’d get a few trusted angels together and circle up, but I can’t do that here! So I just have to wait for them to peel off on their own!”

I frowned softly, gently stroking his shoulder. He whined softly, looking at me hesitantly. “Lucifer, … I’m sure this is a … sensitive topic, and I’m sure there’s a reason you didn’t ask, but … if you wanted to ask, … I would help. And I promise, I wouldn’t judge you for what they look like right now, or talk to anyone else about it, or anything like that … It’s just like when you got that matt out of my fur, that was pretty embarrassing for me, but I couldn’t see it well enough to get it out myself. So you sat down with me, and you took a set of combs, and detangling spray, and a pair of scissors, and you fixed it for me. … You could have just cut it out, but you didn’t. You sat there and meticulously detangled it for hours, and then you trimmed everything so it wouldn’t get bad so easily again. Remember? … I could do the same for you.”

He nodded slowly, sighing softly. “I just … I didn’t want you to see … you don’t understand, they look really bad right now …”

“So did my neck.”

He thought for a moment, sighing before he carefully slipped the ugly beige trench coat off. His wings were pressed firmly against his back, almost trembling. He turned away, letting me get a good look at them. The majority of his flight feathers had already gone through the process, but about half of the fluffy down feathers were still encased, or partially encased, in cylindrical sheaths. I smiled softly, gently stroking down his spine. “It really doesn’t look so bad, Luci. Let’s get comfy, ok? Do you wanna lay down somewhere?”

A shiver went up his spine, and his wings attempted to puff up in response. It did look a bit sad, but I wasn’t gonna tell him that. He was feeling uncomfortable enough as it was. His wings were usually a source of great pride for him, I wasn’t about to make this harder for him. He slowly nodded, and carefully got up. I followed him to his bedroom, a little concerned by how wobbly he seemed.

“... Luc, is the molt really the only thing that’s going on? You seem a bit … off?”

He collapsed onto his bed, pulling a pillow under his chest and crossing his arms under himself. “It’s enough … The little molts take a lot of energy, but the big ones … The big ones really suck … I’ve been in bed pretty much since I left …”

I nodded, sitting next to him. “I see … so, I just start peeling these things off the feathers?”

He nodded. “Gently, please … You can roll them a bit if they resist, but if that doesn’t work move on to the next one. Most of them should be ready though.”

I hummed softly, gently taking the wing in front of me and carefully extending it. He groaned softly, following my movements compliantly. I let the wing rest on my legs and began carefully sliding my fingertips over the little cylinders. Most of the keratin sheaths started to flake and crumble away under my touch, and I carefully rolled the slightly more resistant ones between my fingers. Under my touch, fluffy down and contour feathers began to emerge. I gently brushed the debris away, careful of my claws. I knew I had to do this perfectly; to prove he could trust me with things like this. He wasn’t moving or making any noises though, and I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or bad.

I worked methodically from the bottom where his wing attached to his back, up and out to the wingtip, periodically brushing the detritus away and stroking his freshly exposed feathers. I finished the right side and got halfway through the wings on the left before I ran into one that started to peel away, but then didn’t want to budge. I was about to move on like he’d told me, but I paused when I heard the first noise Lucifer made since I started touching his wings; a high pitched whine. He squirmed uncomfortably, and his wings ruffled up a bit.

“... Luci? D- did I hurt you?”

“Noooo … I want it off …” He whimpered softly, pressing his face into the pillow. “... C- Can you scratch it a bit? Just a bit!”

I nodded, humming softly my agreement, and carefully ran a claw along the sheath. His high whine returned, but this time it seemed a bit more … pleased? I scratched again, watching little bits of the sheath peel away. After just a little bit more the sheath fell away entirely, releasing its fluffy feather, and Lucifer sighed happily. 

“Ohhh fuck~ … Oh, that’s so much better! Your hands are magic~” He moaned softly, bringing a blush to my cheeks.

I cleared my throat; “... I’m glad you’re liking it, Luc.”

I carefully continued to the tip of his wing. There were only a few that hadn’t been ready to go yet, and his wings were back to their full, shiny, fluffy glory. He sighed happily, but didn’t move to get up, so I just continued to stroke his feathers.

“Ahh~ … Puppy, that’s wonderful~ … But y- … you do know, wings are sensitive, yeah?” He slowly lifted his head, looking over his shoulder at me. The heat on his face made me squirm shyly, and I shakily removed my hands.

“S- Sorry … I …” I blushed bright red, scooting backwards. He whined softly, slowly sitting up and facing me.

He shakily reached for my hand, running his thumb over my fingers. “... I wasn’t trying to make you stop. …”

I blushed even more, looking up at him shyly. “... So … should I continue?”

He slowly lifted my hand to his lips, kissing my knuckles gently. “... Only if you wish to.”

I nodded slowly, shakily pushing him to lay back down. He did, watching me out of the corner of his eye, and I straddled his hips, stroking his wings gently.

“... They’re so beautiful, Luci … You are beautiful …” I was mesmerized, letting my hands trail along the soft feathers. 

He sighed happily, settling under me. “... I cannot believe I let this go on for a full blessed month when I could have had your hands on me this whole time …”

I chuckled softly, continuing to preen him gently. “Never again, yes? You come to me for this, whenever you need it. Or even if you just want it. … You take care of me, and I take care of you.”

“Because we’re an old married couple.” He nodded, yawning softly. “Yes, love, anything wifey wants~”

I blushed brightly, trying desperately to stop the squeak from leaving my mouth. Others had called us a married couple before, mostly to tease us, but we had never said it. “... That’s right, husband. Anything I want.”

He smirked slightly. “Husband … I like the way that word sounds when you say it ... If you’re not careful, I might just make you my wife for real …”

“... And what exactly would ‘being careful’ look like?”

“Oh, you know. Not letting me touch you anymore, keeping me out of your office, making fun of my ducks. … Taking your hands off my wings would definitely count as being careful.”

I chuckled softly, steeling my nerves and leaning forward to kiss his cheek. I whispered against his ear; “sounds like a horrible way to live. I think I’ll take my chances.”

His eyes flew open, looking up at me. A bright red blush spread across his face, and a hesitant smile graced his lips. “... I agree. A horrible way to live.”

He carefully slid out from under me, turning around so I was in his lap instead, and gently cupped my cheek, rubbing gently with his thumb. I leaned into his touch, sighing happily, and he slid his hand up to stroke my fluffy wolf ear. An almost electric feeling shot through me, leaving me gasping, and I hesitantly looked up at him. He smirked slightly, pulling me closer and kissing me softly before he whispered in my ear; “Now don’t give me that look, love~ You’ve been doing it to me this whole time~”