#something about the two fo them sharing a body

[fat-butch-dyke]

The implication that yugi will always be second place to atem in everyone's mind makes me aaaaaaa

[yeeterthek33per]

Bound (to happen) (Steph Catley x Caitlin Foord x Reader)

A/n requested

Content/Warning(s): SMUT 18+ MDNI, restraints, r being tied down, bottom r, top Steph and Caitlin, strap use, oral r giving and receiving etc.

(This took a much more different and dirty turn than I initially planned this to go but the request said make it spicy.... so, anyway :) Have fun...? )

The fact you hadn't counted on them doing this really put a wrench in your plans.

The initial plan was to go out, party a little and then go home and get a good nights sleep before the game against Brighton tomorrow.

However, your girlfriends had other ideas.

After a rather surprise appearance by one of your childhood best friends, Anna, you'd ended up a little inebriated dancing with her, laughing and drinking.

Caitlin and Steph themselves don't drink much or if at all knowing they'll be starting tomorrow, and also know one of them will be driving home after this.

Of course, that's the plan until they see you practically grinding on someone.

They weren't an overtly jealous pair, knowing more often than not that you were affectionate with most if not all of your teammates and close friends.

However, they had no idea who this woman was, only that you'd jumped into her arms the moment she tapped you on the shoulder.

Quite literally.

It goes on for an hour before they've had enough of the touchiness coming from both of you.

You're about to head over to the bar for more drinks when a hand grabbing yours pulls you away from Anna, who looks a little confused and then slight anger at the sudden strangers she didn't know, grabbing you and pulling you into them.

It sobers you up a little but you recognise the warm body you're pulled into and immediately turn around grinning, completely oblivious to the possessive grip you're now being held in.

"Oh! Hi Baby! You guys haven't met yet. This is Anna, she's a childhood best friend of mine!"

You turn back to Anna who's eyeing them both up closely.

"Anna, these two are my girlfriends! I love them both so much, we play football together!"

It's a little slurred and almost drowned out by the blasting music just ten feet from the group of you.

At that, she relaxes and, still eyeing them up, extends a hand out to the two brooding brunettes, noting the tight grips they have on your waist and arm.

Steph steps forward first, gripping the woman's hand tightly and shaking rather stiffly and she has to nudge Caitlin to repeat her actions.

"Nice meeting you, Anna. We really have to be going though, we've got a game tomorrow and we don't want this one too hungover before a match."

You pout at them, looking between them and Anna, before allowing them to tug you away.

But not before offering up your number to catch up later, which Caitlin and Steph both tense up at, which of course, your oblivious self doesn't notice.

In fact, you don't even question them until you're halfway home and sobering up with a water bottle shoved into your hand and a late night sandwich just about forced down your throat.

Noticing their unusually quiet demeanour, you poke Steph's shoulder from the backseat.

"Yes, Y/n?"

Oh.

You're in trouble.

"Did uh... You two okay?"

"Perfect."

The clipped reply makes you shrink a little into your seat and you catch her eye in the rear view mirror. There's a glimmer of something there you don't recognise at first other than mild annoyance.

Caitlin doesn't respond to your question only glancing Steph's way.

Slowly, you put two and two together when you're just about back to your shared home.

"Is this about Anna?"

"We'll talk when we get home."

Sighing softly, you settle back into your seat.

Only, you don't get the chance to say much when you're just about dragged inside and pushed against the entryway wall, two pairs of hands and legs keeping you pinned to the wall.

Suddenly, this night is going much differently than you expected.

"Anna wasn't-"

A hand gripping your jaw makes you close your mouth.

"Say her name again and you won't cum for a month."

Whimpering under their fiery gazes, Steph moves to slip two fingers past your lips while Caitlin tugs at the hemline of the top you're wearing.

Sucking on the intruding digits, not wanting to push their buttons any further, you lift your arms to allow the piece of clothing to be discarded, and then your pants following that.

Now, pressed down onto the bed, stripped bare, one body sitting pinning your hands above you, the other moving about the closet, you're feeling a little nervous.

"You wanted to be little slut at the club with that woman, you can be a little slut for us instead and take what we give you. Can you be a good girl for us?"

Steph's words make you shiver under her, breathing already hitching, finger tips pressing down on the back of your tongue almost forcing a gag out of you and making your eyes water.

She then removes them for a moment.

When you don't answer straight away, you're met with the same fingers gripping your chin tightly to look back up at her.

"Answer me."

"Yes, Steph."

"Good."

She nods, satisfied and gestures to your other girlfriend sitting on the edge of the bed holding a pair of... cuffs?

The younger of the two releases Steph's grip on your wrists only to click them into place above your head.

"Since you can't be good for us lately, we figured a little assistance might be in order. If you're good, we might let you touch later."

The fur covered metal only digs into your wrists enough to provide resistance against any movement outside of their upright position attached together above you, her hands holding the cuffs in place.

Satisfied with your level of restriction, Steph moves to rest between your legs rather than on them.

You're so focused on Steph's movements that you're surprised by Caitlin's sudden presence on the bed once again, this time stripped down to just a sports bra and dildo strapped to her hips.

"You're gonna be a good girl and give us a show, like the good little slut you are."

The tone sends shivers down your spine and you're nodding without even processing too much what was said, though it does leave heat pooling ridiculously fast between your legs.

They'd been like this before but never this dominating and it was making your head spin.

Caitlin manoeuvres so the tip of the strap is pressed against your lips, your head turned accordingly to line up with it.

Slowly, she presses her hips forward, lips parting to accommodate the silicone head.

"That's a good girl."

You have to suppress a keening whine as you start breathing through your nose the deeper she pushes the fake cock.

"Go on then, pretty thing, give us a show."

Doing the best you can with the little leverage you have, you start bobbing up and down (more like back and forth with the way you're currently stuck).

With encouraging hand in your hair, you're being met with an occasional impatient thrust from the forward.

At a particularly rough point, she thrusts and hits the back of your throat harshly and forces another gag from you, at one point even holding your head down on the full length long enough to spring tears to your eyes.

Finally, she let's go and eases off on your head, letting you pull off her with a gasp of air.

"There's a good little slut. Being so good for us."

Steph's words of praise in your ear bring you back to the present.

She'd shifted to a better view point beside you and her hand now has settled on your collarbone, pushing you back flush with the mattress once more.

"Such a pretty little mouth, would hate to see it unoccupied."

Steph gestures to your other girlfriend to shift behind her, between your legs, and you're distracted by the woman stripping down completely, internally groaning at the revealed sight of bare skin and muscle.

Moving your arms so they're relaxed resting on your hips instead of above you, she moves to straddle either side of your head looking down at you with a small smirk.

You whine softly, anticipating getting your mouth on her.

"Ah ah."

She tuts softly when you lean up.

"Beg."

Shivering softly, you lean back to make full eye contact.

"Please Steph, let me taste you."

She raises a brow.

"Please, I need you. I need to taste you. Let me show how good I am."

You whine the last part and she pretends to think for a moment before nodding down at you.

"Go on, baby, you know what to do."

Meeting her halfway down, your tongue dips straight into her and lips wrap around her clit, finally getting a taste of the brunette.

Steph moans above you, hand tangling in your hair with an encouraging tug.

"Fuck, that's it."

Just as you slip your tongue into her, you feel your legs being pushed fully apart and a pair of arms wrap around your thighs, holding them in place.

A mouth on you has your hips canting up against the woman's face and a moan reverberating into the woman above you.

"You make her cum first and you get to cum."

You almost don't hear it with Steph's thighs clamped around your head but as soon as it's out of her mouth and she's returned to sucking your clit, you know she isn't gonna play fair about this.

Moving your tongue, you drag it over her several times, swiftly shaping over her clit and sucking best you can with the little room you have to move your head.

Using every trick you have to make your long time girlfriend cum on your tongue, you can hear her getting more vocal above you.

Curses and praises mixed together angled towards you as she rocks against your mouth, forcing your ministrations to be faster and more harsh on her clit, though you can't find it in you to complain.

You'd gladly spend the rest of your life buried between her thighs, taste exploding on your tongue.

Meanwhile, Caitlin's doubled down on you, her hand slipping beneath her to slide two fingers inside you and to start pumping against your g-spot, angling perfectly while she suctions on your clit.

You can feel yourself soaked on her digits and you realise just how close you are already.

Definitely not playing fair but you don't go down without a hard fight.

Steph's legs just start to shake around you as your stomach starts to clench and you fight off cumming for as long as it takes to ravish the woman sitting on your face.

Surprising yourself, you only let go when you hear Steph's moans peak above you and her thighs clench tightly around you, stomach tightening as she releases onto your tongue, and moan loudly, vibrations pushing her fully over the edge.

Caitlin's movements slow inside you, making small massaging motions to bring you down and your stomach unclenches as well as your legs.

"God baby, so good for us. So good for me, making me cum so well."

She slips off your head leaning down to capture your now very swollen, sex mussed lips with her own, tasting herself on you instantly.

With a small whine as Caitlin runs her thumb over your still sensitive clit, you shift in the cuffs but don't move to touch either of them at all.

Steph notes it with a knowing smirk and more praise spilling from her lips.

"Well done, baby. Trying so hard to be good for us and not move."

When you gasp suddenly, arching your back, Steph looks back and up at the striker now sitting on her haunches between your legs with a raised brow.

"You couldn't wait, could you?"

She's got the strap head pressed into you, hips fighting not to completely bottom out in you just yet.

The head alone has you stretched out deliciously and you can barely stop writhing onto the strap.

Steph moves your wrists to back above your head, hand falling to splay across your bare stomach.

"That's it pretty girl, be still for her. It'll fit easier."

Caitlin slowly pushes into your cunt, the shaft stretching you much like the head and when she bottoms out, you can't help the whimper you let out, your eyes rolling back at the feeling.

Steph's other hand leaves your wrists, finding your throat instead, giving a little squeeze as Caitlin pulls slowly out again.

The lack of air makes it a little harder to pace yourself on the stretch when she pushes back in but you find yourself loving every second of it.

Giving a small go ahead nod, followed by a squeaked moan as she starts finding a pace, leaning forward to rest her hands either side of your head as she starts thrusting faster, leaving you keening into the air of the bedroom, head falling back as moans start to fall from your lips louder than before.

"How's she feel, Cait?"

"Fuck so tight, babe."

Caitlin's panting between thrusts, abs clenching with effort as she pushes the strap into you with vigour.

"Taking her cock so well, baby girl."

Her lips latch onto your neck, teeth grazing the skin as she tries to avoid disturbing the other woman's rhythm too much.

You're a whining, whimpering, keening mess underneath them, now straining to avoid moving your hands anywhere other than where Steph left them.

"You gonna be a good girl for us? Stay nice and still while she fucks you? Makes you cum?"

Her fingers tighten around your throat.

"Wanna be so good for you!"

You're moaning in time with the harsh thrusts into you, Caitlin fully pistoning her hips forwards, hands coming to wrap around your thighs, pulling you down onto her with every thrust forward.

"Fuck, pretty girl, taking me so well."

Her eyes train over your sweat sheened form, hands gripping and nails digging into the flesh of your legs, which you're sure will leave bruises later.

Not that you can find it in you to mind all that much.

"Please! I'm so close!"

Looking to Steph for permission, when she receives a nod, she plants herself again, putting a final effort into her hips slapping against yours, the strap massaging your insides perfectly.

You can barely keep up with the feeling her of rutting into you, and the coil in your stomach tightens and then finally snaps when her thumb moves to rub your clit hastily.

Steph watches on, mesmerised with the way your body reacts to Caitlin absolutely destroying you.

Watches the way your mouth drops open in one final silent scream, legs quivering, stomach clenching and unclenching as the woman slows to a mild thrust after chasing her own high.

You're whimpering softly with your eyes squeezed shut after a moment, the sensitivity getting to be a lot.

"That's it pretty girl. So good for us."

Steph mutters the words into your ear, teeth grazing and tugging on your earlobe, before pressing soft kisses across the skin.

Caitlin slides out slowly, careful not to budge you too much as your breathing calms.

Tossing the strap off to the side, your arms are finally able to come to rest on your stomach again still cuffed together, Steph moving to the bathroom to grab a cloth and then downstairs for water.

Steph returns, undoing the water to let you drink while waiting for Caitlin to come back, running the damp cloth over you, soft praises uttered in your ear.

"That's our sweet girl, did so well."

After a brief moment of shuffling around, you hear the younger of the two yell out from the closet.

"Babe, where's the keys?"

"I thought you had them."

"...."

"Cait.."

"....Uh?"

Steph's head whips to the open closet doorway.

"They should've been in the packaging, check in there."

"..."

Another moment of some shuffling.

"We threw out the packing yesterday, didn't we?"

"CAITLIN JADE FOORD."

--------------------------

[perfectlyoongi]

ROOMMATE!YOONGI who covers you every night when you fall asleep in front of the television. whether winter or summer, Yoongi always made a point of accommodating you on your small sofa. with a white blanket in the summer and a blue blanket in the winter, Yoongi covered you carefully, letting the smooth fabric begin to warm you before he considered whether or not press a kiss to your forehead. yes, you were sleeping, you wouldn’t notice. no, you could wake up, you would mock him. just a sigh and a turn away with a pink tint on his cheeks — tomorrow he would give you that kiss, yes. “one of these day you get sick and i don’t want to take care of you. i’m just saving myself work in the future. it’s just that, that’s all.”

ROOMMATE!YOONGI who would buy groceries with you just to know what you would like so he could buy it for you when you needed it most. as he pushed the cart, seeing your body walking excitedly in front of him, Yoongi always made a mental note of all the brands you touched and talked about, paying special attention to the ones where you just looked and smiled. one day, he would offer you what you like most. but you can’t know that’s the reason he always goes shopping with you. “these cookies were on sale and i know you like them, so i decided to buy them. if you want, i can go back and buy that juice you really like. it’s not a hassle at all.”

ROOMMATE!YOONGI who makes a night of ice cream and wine when life is getting more complicated for you. lit only by the lamps in your living room, sharing a large bucket of your favorite ice cream, Yoongi sat next to you and listened to your outbursts. about work or family, friends or the world in general, Yoongi would let you talk for hours if necessary, just talking to offer you more wine or agree with people’s stupidity, always ending up giving you one or two pieces of advice and a story that would make you laugh. on the most complicated nights, Yoongi would be by your side, sharing a blanket, an ice cream, and a moment that would be eternal. “tell me all your worries and let me carry them in my heart for one night. let me relieve you of the weight of reality just for one night. let me help you.”

ROOMMATE!YOONGI who only lets you sit on his bed. Yoongi’s room was sacred, just like your room was sacred. but, as with all sacred temples, short visits had to be made regularly to maintain the fantasy charm. so, whenever you invaded Yoongi’s room to show him a video or share gossip about the neighbors, he would let you sit on his bed, secretly wishing some of your scent would get lost on its clothes. but only you could do that. it didn’t matter if it was a friend or family, Yoongi only let you sit on his bed, because it was only your smell that calmed Yoongi on the most turbulent nights. “sit on the bed, it’s more comfortable. but don't hug my pillow again. last time you left it disfigured and i couldn’t sleep. be more careful with my bed, thank you.”

ROOMMATE!YOONGI who leaves you little sticky notes on the bathroom mirror when he thinks you need it the most. words of encouragement or simply some reminders, several colorful squares were left on the bathroom mirror for you to find early in the morning. Yoongi wanted to remind you that you weren’t alone, ever. Yoongi was just a sticky note away. “i know how cruel the world can be, but don’t forget that if there is light and hope in this world, it is because you are in it. never forget your worth.”

ROOMMATE!YOONGI who leaves coffee or tea made for you in the morning before leaving the house. Yoongi was always the first to wake up, and when the house was still plunged into a deep silence, Yoongi prepared your favorite hot drink at the exact moment before he left and before you woke up. ever since Yoongi started doing you that little favor, he had never failed. every morning you were treated to your not-too-hot drink and the smell of Yoongi’s perfume still in the kitchen. “i’m glad you liked the drink. i just want to do something for you to start your day off right and show you that there’s still beauty in this world.”

ROOMMATE!YOONGI who didn’t know how to confess, he only knew that it couldn’t pass that night. the feeling consumed Yoongi from the inside, devouring his soul, destroying his entire essence. Yoongi felt trapped by that feeling. Yoongi had to free himself from that weight that squeezed his heart as quickly as possible. so, that night, Yoongi helped you tidy up the kitchen and, before you even put down the cloth, he took a deep breath and, asking for help from all the angels and saints and courage from all the gods and entities, Yoongi simply spoke. “i think i like you. well, actually i don’t think, i’m sure. but i don’t want to scare you or push you away with the truth of my feelings. just… just know that i like you, a lot.”

[rrxnjun]

where do broken hearts go? [lmk]

you know what they say about past lovers that can remain just as friends - either they're still in love with each other, or they never were in the first place.

pairing: mark lee x fem! reader

genre: exes to lovers. angst, fluff.

wc: 12k (11.926)

warnings: mention of sex, weed and alcohol, heartbreak, swearing, park jihoon of treasure is one sassy bitch and also accidentally somehow the main character of this fanfic plz dont @ me, inconsistent writing style bc i took 3 months and 3 depressive episodes to finish this fic

playlist: where do broken hearts go - one direction / too good to say goodbye - bruno mars / everytime - ariana grande / closer - waterparks / tornado warnings - sabrina carpenter / survive the night - the boyz

a/n: hey do some of you still remember me..... AHAHA tell a friend to tell a friend rrxnjun is BACK! this fic isn't the ideal vision i had in my mind but we are working on not being so hard on ourselves with our writing so! here we are. i still kind of like it :,)

When you walk up to your best friend’s apartment one day with a tub of ice cream under your arm and the biggest pout on your face, Park Jihoon makes a complete list of things you should do to get over your failed relationship with Mark Lee. And while you think your dear friend has some psychopathic tendencies sometimes, you’d say the list is actually pretty reasonable of him. 

There’s something about the five simple steps that makes you wonder if it’s really as easy as Jihoon makes it sound. And while you doubt it– because the pinging pain in your heart makes it seem like the heartbreak is truly going to kill you in a few minutes if you don’t do something about it– you give it a try, because come on… you’d do anything to not feel like this ever again.

Step one – cry it out.

“He was a cunt anyway,” Jihoon mutters as he steps into the living room with two spoons in his hands, throwing one of them to you– while almost managing to hit you in the middle of your forehead in the process, adding a concussion to the mix of problems you have going on right now– and you find yourself furrowing your brows at his hateful comment.

“Why’d you say that?”

“Well, as your best friend, I’m supposed to be on your side, no?” he says as he takes a seat on the sofa next to you, watching as you wrap one of the thick blankets you got for the male around your figure– you bought it mainly for yourself, because his apartment is cold as a freezer and you knew he wouldn’t buy one for you to use in the first place– and shrugs. “Besides, he broke your heart, and any male who does that is a cunt in my eyes.”

“I broke up with him,” you mourn, “so I broke my own heart,” you snicker, despair fully filling you up from the inside– fitting everywhere into your lungs and choking you up from how bad you truly feel. Now, this isn’t your first breakup– you’ve had your fair share of boyfriends in high school (in your baddie era, as Jihoon called it), but Choi Yeonjun from Maths class and Jung Woonyoung, the guy you dated for a total of 2 months over the summer break before he moved away, weren’t exactly boys you found yourself falling in love with. Sure, you liked them, you kissed them and went on dates with them– hell, you even hooked up with Yeonjun once before you realized the relationship truly wasn’t for you– but no one managed to cave into your heart just as much as Mark Lee, your first college boyfriend did.

“But you sure had a reason for it, come on!” Jihoon huffs, taking the tub of ice cream from your hands and opening it for you, since you’ve gotten quite weak from the lack of sleep and nutritions ever since the break up, hands clammy and not cooperating. “You don’t just break up with someone to break your own heart. He did that, that’s why you said goodbye to him,” he says before sitting the enormous tub of ice cream between your two bodies, nudging you to dig into the frozen delicacy.

“Yeah, but–”

“No buts, young lady. We are here to make you forget you ever even dated Mark Lee, so open up, eat the ice cream and focus your attention on Titanic so you can finally cry it out,” he says, and by the tone of his voice, you’d think he’s angry with you. Jihoon has this aura around him that makes you think he’s always at least a little annoyed at everything– but he told you to not mind it and that it’s just his sassy bitch attitude. 

He does have a point, though. You broke up with Mark because he broke your heart first– there was no other reason for it. If it was something minor, something small, you were sure you could work on it. You have, numerous of times before, brought up something and had a mature conversation about it– something you always so admired about Mark, being so cautious and understanding when navigating problems in the relationship– but when you bring up the same thing over and over, and it never gets fixed despite him telling you he’ll try harder next time, you think you’re allowed to feel a little heartbroken at his nonexistent efforts. And that’s exactly why you decided to quit the relationship– after a while, you felt like you were putting in more effort than he was, effectively making you feel like he’s not even that interested in dating you in the first place.

First, he just told you he was forgetful. He forgot he promised to pick you up from class one day– and you said that it’s okay, he is busy, after all– and it was the first time it happened, so you didn’t really mind that much, truly. Then, he forgot about the date you scheduled– but it was fine, because you didn’t have reservations anyway, you could change the day to any other day of the week, after all. He kept forgetting the stuff you told him in between the conversations you shared– and it was small things, you understand, but sometimes, you wondered if he was ever really listening to you at all. 

Forgetful soon turns not interested in your eyes, and when he doesn’t call you in the evening like he promised he would, when he doesn’t show up to the party you invited him to, because he forgot it was that day, you’re one step closer to calling it quits, because each and every one of these situations sends a sharp pain into your stomach. The last straw was just last week, though– and realistically, it was an important day, as much that you thought the day is somehow gonna fix everything, but the truth is somewhere completely else as Mark Lee forgets about your one year anniversary and never shows up at your doorstep for the dinner you prepared for the two of you like he promised he would. 

And it doesn’t click in him two days after either– you don’t even get a text. He got so forgetful over time that he forgot about you completely, and that’s when you took an uber to his place and broke up with him for good.

And even though the breakup was the most painful thing you’ve ever felt yourself go through, Jihoon is right– you’re not the one that broke your own heart. Mark Lee did that for you many times before, and this was just the breaking point.

“Fucking hell, you bought cookies and cream again?” Jihoon huffs when he takes another spoonful of the ice cream into his mouth, eyebrows furrowing at the sweet taste. Looking at him from the corner of your eye, you wipe your left cheek as you hum, immune to his nagging by now.

“You know I hate cookies and cream!”

“You know, Hoon, I bought this for myself. When you’re the one that’s heartbroken, we’ll share your favorite ice cream flavor instead,” you mumble, munching on the coldness on your tongue, sniffling a little when your eyes avert to the TV screen.

And after that, the teasing from your best friend’s side stops. Maybe it’s just because he hates to see you cry– and he rarely gets the chance, if you’re being honest, since you’re pretty good at handling your emotions– but you secretly know that it’s because when he looks back at the TV screen in front of the two of you, the sad part of the movie hasn’t even started yet and the tears are not the result of the movie, but of your own thoughts instead.

Step two – give him back all of his stuff and the stuff he’s given you that reminds you of him. Demand that he does the same.

Now, step two was a thing most couples do when they break up. Realistically, it makes sense– you wouldn’t want stuff that’s not yours just laying around, and also, it’s just bound to remind you of the person you lost. Naturally, you’d want to return it.

“Why does he have to return my things as well?” you mutter under your breath as Jihoon helps you fold all Mark’s hoodies into a cardboard box, alongside with wrapping the little things your ex boyfriend made out of ceramic for you in tissue paper like you asked him to– even though he complained and said that it shouldn’t matter to you if they break, because you are the heartbroken one– but you held those little things too close to your heart to let them get damaged in the first place.

“Because that’s how it works,” Jihoon hums, watching as you throw another one of Mark’s shirts onto the top of his head, shielding his vision. “What, you don’t want your stuff back?”

“I mean…” you mumble, deeply considering of the fact that the thought of getting your stuff back didn’t even cross your mind until now, before you realize your favorite pair of socks is thrown somewhere in Mark’s drawers– the blue ones with peaches on them– and you suddenly have the revelation that while you don’t necessarily need the stuff back, you’d love to wear those socks again. “I guess…” you note as you walk over to Jihoon and take a glance into the full cardboard box, looking over the stuff and chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“It’s like witchcraft, y��know,” Jihoon points out, looking at you with fierce eyes mirroring the stupid idea that just flashed through his brain, “if you don’t exchange the things, a piece of you is still kept at his apartment and you won’t be able to move on.”

And again, Park Jihoon does have psychopathic tendencies, but he may be onto something here. So you listen to him as you nod along and close the cardboard box, ready to drive over to Mark Lee’s apartment and drop off the things you’ve collected from him for the past year. The box includes all of the clothes messily scattered across your drawers and your closet, the picture frame of you two together that you always had on your night stand, the ceramic bowls and a little tiger sculpture he made for you when he took a pottery class with his friend Renjun, and the lost guitar pics you found under your bed and at the very top of your bookshelf from when he used to bring his guitar along and play you songs on rainy afternoons. The only things of Mark’s that you kept were the love letter he gave you for your birthday and the USB with his cover of Justin Bieber’s Off my face on it that he shyly gifted to you on one of your dates; but you would never tell Jihoon that in fear of him getting rid of those most precious memories for you.

It’s good to let go, but you don’t think you’re wrong for wanting to keep something to remind you of the good times. The times you still felt loved by Mark.

“Off we go,” you say, standing up and bringing the box towards your front door, your best friend at your feet. He promised to drive you to Mark’s place– you think he’s worried about you meeting your ex-boyfriend face to face for the first time since the break up, but he said it’s because you’re too broke to Uber all the time, efficiently throwing all the considerate thoughts you were accrediting him out the window– and after a few minutes of the drive, you find yourself standing on the doorstep of Mark Lee's apartment.

Taking a deep breath in and out, almost chickening out with the flood of thoughts and excuses you could say to Jihoon when you come back to his car with the box still in your hands– sayings like “he wasn’t home” or “he didn’t want those back”, the latter stupider than the first– you decide to face your problems head-on and finally knock on the mahogany door, waiting for Mark to answer. And he does– of course he does, because he’s always home, and as his ex-girlfriend of one year, you're painfully aware of the fact– but when that happens, you feel your heart falling all the way down to your stomach, crushing you and suddenly making it hard for you to breathe. 

“Um… hi,” he greets you, voice a little groggy, as if he hasn’t spoken in a while– and when you meet his eyes, the deep chocolate orbs you always found yourself admiring and writing silent odes to in your head, you quickly glance away in fear of staring into them for too long and making decisions you wouldn’t like to make.

“Hi,” you awkwardly greet back, clearing your throat and moving a little in your place, shifting the weight from one foot to the other. You're surprised you're able to keep up with the conversation, thoughts running in your brain faster than you can comprehend them, heartbeat ringing in your ears from the unexpected anxiety. Maybe Jihoon was right and you should've taken a shot before coming here– at least you'd have more courage and social skills clearly needed for this kind of interaction. “I… brought you back your things,” you say, finally looking up at the male and chewing on your lips, letting out an awkward, tense laugh when he stares at you with an empty look, “figured you’d want them back,” you add, watching as the male opens his mouth and closes it in what seems to be shock before he presses his lips tightly together and nods at you.

“Uh, yeah,” he says, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as he watches you clumsily hold up the cardboard box to him, ready to leave his stuff there with him and escape as fast as you can, not really minding how you'll get back to Jihoon's car– if jumping down the window of the entrance hall is the fastest option, you're ready to get to it. The truth is, everything is starting to get a little too hard to bear– his familiar scent filling your nose, the hoodie he wore to your first date enveloping his figure, his messy hair reminding you of the many times you brushed your fingers through it in attempts to smooth it down. It’s only been two weeks since you last saw him, but it was starting to feel as if you forgot about him already and were now relearning all the things you once fell in love with again, looking at him in the same light, yet noticing him and all the small details a little bit differently. “Thanks, I… I actually, uh… I have your stuff here too, so if you want it back I’ll– I can just–”

“Y-yeah,” you nod, almost a little too eagerly, “that would be… cool,” you say, trying hard to ignore the fact that he had your stuff packed too, intending to give it to you, and the crashing reality that comes with it, telling you he was prepared to do this before you were and how it’s making you feel kind of shitty.

Mark moves further into the apartment, the sound of him dropping the box to the floor filling your ears before he’s back at the door in no time, a similar cardboard box in his hands that he offers to you with a tense smile on his face. “Wanted to bring it around so I had an excuse to see you, but you, uh… beat me to it, I guess…” 

Looking at him as you take the box out of his hands, gaze as if to tell him not to say such words to you when you’re still so fragile to his effect, you only nod and mutter out a simple “Thanks,” before you turn on your heel and intend to take the stairs back down.

“I’ll… see you around, then?” Mark calls after you as you take the first step out– something about it making you feel like it’s the first step out of his life, in a way– and you only nod, because one, you truly don’t know how else to reply to this question, and two, you really, really don’t know if you’ll ever see him again, but you can't bring yourself to say it to his face. Somehow, it would feel like torture to admit it– and you're not prepared for that reality just yet.

Rushing outside and getting into Jihoon's car, you almost feel like you’re on the verge of breaking, and when the male asks you how it went as he’s reversing out of the parking lot, you only bid him a one-word reply before you look through the box on your way home, too impatient to stay back from the memories.

And Jihoon didn’t really think this one through, because the fact that you gave Mark back the things that reminded you of him meant that he did the same, and now all the things you brought along to Mark’s apartment were in the cardboard box, all stained with countless memories and feelings attached to each and every single thing. The artwork you made for him, the little heart-shaped keychain you gave him for his birthday, the plant you gave him that was now long dead and dried out– those were once your stuff, but all in this world with the intention of love being sent out through them to your now ex-lover, and the fact that they’re in your possession again instead of his is not making letting go of Mark any easier. 

And maybe Mark was right and he truly was forgetful, because as you rummage through the contains of the box, while you find out your favorite blue socks are nowhere to be seen, surely still buried somewhere in the drawers of his closet, obliterated out of his memory, there’s a gray hoodie sitting at the bottom and it’s surely not yours– it’s his and it was always your favorite, and you always used to wear it at his place when you got cold or when you just really wanted to smell his cologne, and you suddenly don't know if it's presence in the box slipped his mind or if he truly left it there on purpose. 

Couldn’t he forget about that too?

Step three – block his number.

The third step comes into place after you accidentally slip out to Jihoon about the phone call you get on a Friday night– more like two hours into Saturday already– and now, most of all, you must admit that your best friend might be right about his advice.

Your phone starts ringing at 2:11 AM, and while you weren’t sleeping– you’ve been having some trouble with dozing off without being overbeared with thoughts lately– the name flashing on your screen shocks you for more reasons than one. 

Mark Lee calls you, three weeks after your breakup, in the middle of the night. You haven’t spoken since the time he gave you back your stuff, and even though you’ve done quite a bit of stalking on his social media, you have no news of him or his whereabouts. Naturally, a call from him in the middle of the night startles you and shakes you to the core. He has no reason to call you, so your brain does the math and concludes there must be an emergency– and god knows that even after being hurt by him, you could never ignore him and leave him hanging in a state of need.

So you pick up– with shaky hands and a raging heartbeat, expecting the worst. Listening to the other side of the line, you take a deep breath in and out, bracing yourself for the impact of the words you’re going to hear. The voice on the other side is laced with haziness and his tone is almost a little tired– worn out, even– when he finally greets you from wherever he is.

“Hi,” Mark says, and for a second, your heartbeat steadies itself and the world stops spinning– he sounds okay, and for a moment, you’re grateful to hear his voice.

Humming, as if to collect your thoughts, you clear your throat before you offer him an answer. “Hello,” you greet, “what’s- what’s up?”

“Just wanted to hear your voice,” he says, almost a little abruptly to your question. He doesn't overthink his answer and he doesn't give himself time to think if it's a good idea or not– he just blurts it out and now it's your problem to deal with, when it's there, out in the open. Your palms get sweaty and you start to lose feeling in your fingertips, making you take a few seconds to yourself to process the situation before you decide to finally answer to the strange sentence. 

“It’s late, Mark,” you mumble, and you involuntarily wonder if the sentence doesn’t have double meaning– it's too late for anyone to call at this hour, and at the same time, it’s been weeks since your ex boyfriend lost the privilege of listening to your voice when he can’t sleep in the middle of the night whenever he feels like it– and it’s now too late to do anything about it or make it any easier to deal with.

“Shit, sorry,” he chuckles to himself, and you suddenly recognise the laziness in his voice to be the effect of his and his best friend Hyuck’s Friday endeavors; the sweet coating of his voice being the effect of none other than the momentary bliss that comes with the relaxation of his body and mind when he's high. “Didn’t realize,” he concludes, making you shake your head at him in disbelief– not really mattering that he can’t see you in the act.

“‘s okay,” you mumble– and in your perfect reality, you hang up the phone now. In your perfect reality, you connect it to your charger and close your eyes, calling it a night. You fall asleep with no thoughts rummaging through your brain and wake up in the morning to a new sunny day, ready to take on the responsibilities of what’s to come, having productive days ended with smiles and a hot dinner you make for yourself just because you feel like it. In your perfect reality, you protect your own heart. This is not your perfect reality, though– and that’s why you stay on the line, listening to Mark ramble on the other side of the phone, intoxicated and slightly out of it. You wonder if he’ll remember calling you when he wakes up tomorrow. You wonder if he’ll regret it, or if he’ll just shrug his shoulders at the fact and go on with his day, not really paying you much thought when he’s sober.

“I was with Hyuck just now,” he says, and you hear the rustling of his sheets on the other side of the line, making you wonder if he’s washed up and ready for bed, “and– and I remembered how we all used to hang out together, y’know… you with us all– you always clicked with my friends and it was so cool and stuff… and I realized, right, they’re not as funny when you’re not around… but anyways… Jeno’s girlfriend asked about you, ‘cause she didn’t know…and telling her felt so silly, ‘cause they all kept looking at me and I knew they were pitying me, but it was my fault in the first place–”

“Mark–” 

“No, it’s true. And it’s cool, I don’t– I don’t blame you, or anything. I just… I dunno, I guess it got me wondering…”

The line goes silent on the other side, and you settle into your own bed, giving him time to continue. When he doesn’t say anything for a long time, you wonder if he’s fallen asleep.

“Mark?”

“Hm?”

“You still there?”

“Yeah. How was your day?” he asks, tone of voice casual as ever, as if he’s forgotten about all the words he’s told you up until now–  as if it’s not 2 AM and both of your hearts aren’t breaking at the sound of each other’s voice on the other side of the line.

“It… it was okay, I guess,” you say nonetheless, too hopeless to find a way to end the conversation before he does. 

“That’s good to hear,” he says, sighing, “that’s… awesome. You still taking those yoga classes on Mondays?” he asks, and you snicker to yourself– because what kind of question even is that? Who asks that on a late night call, when there are more important things you two need to talk about?

“Yeah,” you lie, still. You haven’t been since the breakup.

“That’s great. Wouldn’t want you to… y’know,” he laughs to himself, “be too sad over this… ‘t was for the better, after all.”

You hear yourself hum– the noise way more stable than your actual words ever could be– and you find yourself feeling silly in the conversation, lying to your ex boyfriend through your teeth; because at the end of the day, you don’t want him to worry about you– because it seems to be the case that he is. And it’s stupid, because he hurt you and you shouldn’t care, maybe you should’ve even show him that you’re heartbroken and that he is the reason behind your pain and the way your life is falling apart, bit by bit, but you don’t find it in you to be so cold and heartless. At the end of the day, you still care about Mark and there’s nothing you could do about it. Turns out that breaking up with him doesn’t magically make the feelings go away– and you knew that, but now you have proof.

“What were you saying before, by the way? You… trailed off at the end,” you say, reminding him of his previous words.

“Oh, that,” he snickers into the microphone again, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he twists and turns in the sheets, “don’t worry about it. It was selfish of me.”

It was selfish of him to call in the first place. But you won’t tell him that.

“What was it?”

“It’s just… I was wondering if I lost you forever, y’know… if there was a chance we could ever…” he trails off again, but this time, you don’t bug him to complete it. You’re not stupid– you know the implication of his words. You’ve known him for a long time, after all– maybe you should’ve predicted this when you picked up the call.

“I mean…” you hum, “you didn’t lose me completely, if that’s– if that’s what’s keeping you up at night. We’re still friends, aren’t we?” you say, and in the corner of your brain, you can’t even believe the words yourself– but if it was selfish of him to call, you think it’s okay for you to selfishly fill both of you with empty promises, just for the sake of not breaking your heart even further.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, “that’s– …I’m glad.”

The line’s silent after that, and you wonder if you two have used up the list of words to say to each other this time, if there’s truly no other answer at the end of this conversation. When the situation gets too much for you to bear, the heaviness finally settling on your shoulders and your chest, you finally find the courage to sniffle out a quiet goodbye.

“Good night, Mark.”

“G’night,” he drags out, mind still cloudy. “Love you,” spills out from his tongue, like a bad habit.

He ends the call before you get to say it back. Maybe that’s for the better.

And the truth is, you should’ve really listened to Park Jihoon and blocked Mark’s number after this encounter. But you didn’t– you’re too weak for Mark’s sweet words, finding yourself still hanging on to his saccharine voice and the muffled ramble he has reserved for you only every time he gets high and loses all self-control before calling you on Friday nights selfishly demanding your attention, somehow falling for him like a teenager over and over again despite promising yourself you're gonna move on for real now.

Step four – date someone new.

“So…” Jihoon starts one day, eyes glued to your skull like laser beams, the tone of his voice so incomprehensible you think he’s going to scold you for the actions of your previous days– even though you haven't told him about the midnight calls with Mark and so if he's not going through your phone, he has no way of knowing. Tense and nervous, still, knowing that the impact of his words could either heal you or cut you open like a knife– damn him for always being so brutally honest, no matter how soft his heart is for you– you smile at him with tight lips, crossing your arms on your chest in defense.

“So…?” 

A nervous laugh almost escapes your throat. If Jihoon wasn’t suspicious of you before, he surely is now– or he just finds you strange by the way he furrows his brows at you and scans you up and down, taking a second for himself before he sighs and seemingly decides to drop the weird way you’re acting right now, shaking his head and focusing on the task at hand.

“I was thinking… my friend asked about you,” he says, nonchalantly looking down onto his hands and taking the dirt out from behind his nails, as if it’s not a big deal and he doesn’t even care that much. “Choi Hyunsuk from Biology, you know him– shabby haircut, kinda short, failed the class so he has to retake it this year…?”

“I think you’re forgetting the fact that the two of us have completely different majors, Hoonie,” you sweetly smile at him with irony, making him roll his eyes with a sigh before he tries again.

“The guy who ripped his pants at Xiao Dejun’s party last year?”

“Oh, that one! You should’ve said that earlier, of course I remember Choi Hyunsuk from your Biology class,” you nod hurriedly, the gears finally clicking in your brain.

“As if I wasn’t talking about him for the last few minutes–”

“Okay, and what about him?” you cut him off, already tired of his annoying tangent.

“I said he asked about you.”

“I heard that already,” you nod, looking at him with expecting eyes. “And?”

Jihoon stares at you, unblinking, as if you fell on your head and he’s trying to comprehend if you’re still here with him or if you got a concussion and need to be transferred into a hospital. When the contact of his eyes on your skin gets a bit too uncomfortable– you swear his looks could actually kill someone, if he tried enough– you furrow your brows at him in confusion and shake your head in disbelief.

“Why are you staring at me like that, Park Jihoon?”

“Just tryna see if you’re really that stupid or if you’re just pretending,” he mutters under his nose before he sighs again– his favorite activity whenever you’re around, it seems– and speaks up again, tone of voice reminding you of a kindergartener teacher trying to explain why it gets dark in the evening to a bunch of 4 year olds. “You know, when people ask about you, they are usually interested in you, as in, my friend Hyunsuk didn’t ask because you’re nice, but because you’re hot, if you know what I'm getting onto.”

“Oh,” you get out, eyes wide in concern and a little shaken-up, “well, that’s… nice of him, I guess.”

Jihoon only hums at you before he looks around himself and brings out the bag of chips that he left open by his right side only a few seconds ago, not really speaking more about the topic. It’s either he’s waiting for you to get what he’s hinting at, or he’s just waiting for you to get even more confused and ask him about it in a few seconds again– either way, he’s not the one doing more talking right now, because conversations with you, the most oblivious person he’s ever seen, are never productive if he goes too fast.

Chewing on the chips, his eyes go wide when you finally open your mouth and talk more about the topic at hand– just like he predicted. “Why are you telling me this?”

Your best friend swallows before he places the bag of chips back to its original place and turns his whole body so he’s facing you, speaking up again. “I was thinking that maybe, just maybe, you’d like to hang out with him. Like a date, before you ask– because I know you’re gonna ask– and why? – because, again, I know you’re gonna ask– because I simply think you should try to date again to get your mind off the loser you broke up with two months ago,” he says, blunt and honest, answering all of your unsaid questions at once, and before you know it, he has you snickering and shaking your head in disapproval.

“Absolutely not,” you retort, waving your hands in the air to only further show your disagreement with the proposition, “that would just be a massive catastrophe.”

“Why? Hyunsuk’s nice.”

“I didn’t say he isn’t, it’s just…”

“Just?” he probes you, eyebrows raised and questioning.

“I… don’t know,” you nervously chew on the inside of your cheek, aimlessly shrugging. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea, Jihoon.”

“Because of Mark?” he asks, and the moment his name escapes your best friend’s mouth, the whole room goes strangely quiet– you feel your heartbeat in your throat, the tips of your fingers start tingling and you swear that if you concentrate hard enough, you could feel a bead of sweat drip down your forehead with the incoming stress and nerves only the mention of your ex boyfriend brings you.

“No, that’s not it–”

“Sure,” he nods, sighing to himself– and there it is again, the judging look you so despise.

“You can’t just expect me to date other people a few weeks after my break up, Jihoon,” you exclaim, “that– that wouldn’t even be fair to your friend. You know I wouldn’t be invested,” you explain, and your friend rolls his eyes in frustration, sighing to himself.

“Oh but I know that! And Hyunsuk does too,” he shakes his head at you, “just thought the company of someone else could take your mind off things.”

“I have you,” you try.

“Yeah, but all we do when we’re together is mope about Mark Lee,” Jihoon snickers, “and don’t get me wrong, I’m more than open to bitch about your ex boyfriend and as your best friend, I don’t mind, but the fact that you’d be hanging out with someone else could take your mind off him, because you wouldn’t feel comfortable talking about him with someone else, y’know?”

You shut your eyes closed, a heavy sigh heaving out of your body as you try hard to concentrate and not lose it, and with how Jihoon’s tone gets softer and he’s not as loud with his brutal, yet logical advice, he must feel you getting overwhelmed and accommodates to your needs. “Look, it’s gonna be fun. I promise. Hang out with someone new, feel wanted and hot and pretty again, get some male attention that’s not your ex boyfriend, and you’ll see how it makes you feel. If you hate it, you hate it and you can slap me, I don’t know... If you don’t, you can keep dating around with my friends, and I swear I’ll hook you up only with the nice ones,” he takes your hand into his and waves it around in comfort, making you open your eyes and look at him again.

Seeing the softness and encouragement in your best friend’s eyes, you sigh to yourself. All this time, he’s tried to help you– what if you finally follow his advice? Who knows, it might even help. 

Sighing, you squeeze his palm and hover over him to get the stranded bag of chips he’s guarding on the other side of the sofa. “Fine,” you mutter, “but let your friend know that he’s the one paying, okay?”

“Perfect. I'll text him your number, then.“

And maybe Jihoon was right and after dolling yourself up and dressing up in your favorite dress just so you would feel as comfortable as possible, you don’t feel as bad when his friend Hyunsuk picks you up in his white Volvo and chats with you on the way to the restaurant. He makes good small talk and even gets a giggle out of you, the music in his car is low and you find yourself slowly easing into the situation. You don’t remember when the last time you went out with a guy that wasn’t Mark was, but it’s surprisingly nice. 

And Jihoon was right– you feel pretty. And when Hyunsuk opens the door for you after pulling up to the parking lot of the restaurant, you even feel wanted. You like the attention, just like any other girl would, and the smile you offer to your date seeps of tender shyness as you get out of the comfortable seat of his car. 

The illusion, though, is soon broken as you notice the restaurant he pulled up to. Your smile freezes, your palms get sweaty and you feel your heartbeat rummaging against your ribcage as soon as the idle atmosphere of the restaurant opens up before you. And realistically, you could turn on your heel and get back to the car, tell Hyunsuk that you want to go to another restaurant– but you don’t do it, against your biggest wishes, because you worry that the boy already made a reservation and you don’t want to ruin an evening that’s going well so far.

“Everything alright?” your date checks up on you, seemingly noticing the frown on your face, and when his worried eyes meet yours, it’s sealed– you’d feel too bad for pulling out of the date now. So you only do what you always do best– you put on your best relaxed smile and nod, catching up to him and ensuring him that you’re all okay and you didn’t just talk yourself out of an anxiety attack. 

Because you owe it to him and to Jihoon– both of them worked so hard to make you feel happy and help you to get over your ex boyfriend. It’s not Hyunsuk’s fault that he just managed to pick the restaurant your said ex boyfriend works at part-time. He had no way of knowing, and if you’re lucky enough, Mark wouldn’t be on today. He only works here part-time, it’s not like he’s here every day, and as far as you’re concerned, he only worked like two or three days a week when you dated. It would be a weird coincidence for him to be working the day you go there with your new date– you hope you’re not that unlucky.

Hyunsuk is a gentleman. Opening up doors for you, pulling out the chair for you, letting you talk and not interrupting you. He watches you with fond eyes and you almost try to feel bad for the fact that even if this ended well, the poor boy would just end up being a rebound. He deserves so much more, and you start to worry if this date was a good idea after all. Wasn’t it selfish of you to agree to this? 

“What do you want to get?” he asks as you open up the menu, and you squint at the prices, mentally taking a note to order the cheapest thing just in case he wants to pay for you at the end of the evening. 

“Spaghetti Bolognese,” you blurt out, despite it not being your favorite meal. Hyunsuk just stares at you with squinted eyes, but doesn’t disagree with you. After all, he has no way of knowing that you dislike the taste of the sauce in most restaurants– even though your conscience tells you that Mark knew that and always made sure to remind you about it before ordering for you, worried that you won’t get to eat much that evening– the only thing left to hope is that it tastes good in this particular place. 

“Okay, sure,” he nods and puts the menu down, smiling at you before engaging in a comfortable conversation with you. It feels like you’ve known Hyunsuk forever– his personality oddly reminding you of Jihoon’s caused mainly by the fact that the two have grown up together. Everything flows soundly, but you still find yourself anxiously picking at your cuticles as you cautiously look around the restaurant, fearing the fact that you could catch a glimpse of your ex boyfriend at any second.

And maybe you should be a psychic, because those bad feelings were not there for nothing– when you see a waiter walking out of the back and eyeing your table, ready to get your order, the boy is a few inches taller than your current date, raven hair messy, but still a little styled, dark circles under the man’s eyes, and there he is– your ex boyfriend. Mark Lee halts in his movements, wearing his work uniform, eyes wide, a hint of something that breaks you at least in two mirroring in his orbs before he turns on his heel and disappears in the back again. When he doesn’t come back and his co-worker joins you and Hyunsuk at your table with a warm smile, you stop waiting to see the glimpse of him you selfishly desired to catch despite fearing the interaction the whole evening.

You want to fall through the floor and disappear in the depths of this earth. For some reason, you feel mortified. What would he think? And why do you even care about his feelings? A million different thoughts run through your brain and you worry that you’re being too distant from your current date, but Hyunsuk’s warm eyes reassure you that he doesn’t mind. 

Piercing the food on your table with your eyes, you try to battle the noisy words running around your brain. 

It’s easy to say you’re over someone when you don’t see them. To have them in front of you, meet their gaze and acknowledge their existence and still be able to nod and say that you’ve moved on, is something completely different. 

Were you ever convinced that you were over Mark Lee in the first place, though?

After all of this– the months of following Jihoon’s advice, although making a few mishaps along the way as you continue to pick up Mark’s calls on Friday nights, snoop around his socials and let your mind wander to places it shouldn’t, overthinking everything and making you wish the relationship never ended in the first place– it’s time for the last step of it all. The last, most crucial part of this whole moving on process– the most important one, if you may.

Step five – avoid him at all costs.

Sounds easy, right? After the four previous steps, you’d already cried plenty about the lost months with your ex-boyfriend. You’d already given him back all of his stuff, not tying yourself to him with any material memory. You’d already gone on a date with someone new, choosing to distract yourself instead of letting yourself feel the emotions. After all the previous steps, this one’s supposed to be the easiest one. The one you’re supposed to want to do, after all. The break-up wasn’t messy, but it was still painful– it’s only natural for you to not want to see Mark ever again, right?

Wrong.

Because you never listen to the advice you’re given. That just wouldn’t be you, would it?

And so when Mark Lee calls you one day and tells you that he has a free train ticket to the Bukhansan stop, explaining that he was supposed to go hike there with Donghyuck who canceled on him last minute because of an assignment due midnight, you don’t really hesitate much before you shoot him a short text saying that you’re down and get ready for the short hike. 

When you meet your ex boyfriend at the station, his figure slightly slouched up until the moment his eyes meet yours, you feel the quiet tension in the air. You’ve seen each other a few times before this meeting– on a party you went to with Jihoon, at the campus when you went to class one morning, your ex boyfriend walking you towards the Art building, hell, you’ve even met in the grocery store, all accidental and making your heart leap in your chest with tension. This time, though, you’re here completely intentionally, just to hang out with him, and something about the fact makes a dull pain shoot all through your intestines, a sensation so uncomfortable you try to hide with a tight-lipped smile. 

“Ready for the hike?” he asks, adjusting the bag on his back, playing with the straps with clammy fingers. You can’t help but notice how he looks just like a little boy, in his little world, shielded from everything. He seems to have taken a protective stance, and you hate how the air between you shifted from how you two used to be when you were dating. Mark seems scared. Nervous. On top of his feet. Maybe you shouldn’t have agreed to this at all.

You’re already here, though. Turning around and leaving wouldn’t really work right now, as you take a step towards the train that’s just arrived, humming to your ex boyfriend in agreement. Taking a seat on the place Mark’s pointed to you on the train ticket, you try to loosen up your muscles and get as comfortable as you can, clearing your mind as you gaze outside of the window.

“How have you been?” he asks, clearing his throat.

Pressing your lips into a tight line, you turn to him as you search for an answer. “Better,” you nod, voice quiet. “You?”

Mark hums, chewing the inside of his cheek. “Good, good,” he lies through his teeth, “I’ve seen you at the restaurant the other day,” he hints, and you battle the sigh that’s begging to cut out of your throat. You don’t know where he’s going with the sentence. It’s not a question– only a proposition, barely even that– and you could ignore it with a nod of your head, you could pay it no mind as you see the bitterness in his gaze and the slightly self-conscious averting of his stare. You don’t know where he’s going with the conversation, but frankly, you don’t know where you are going with your answer either, as you shrug to him in a casual manner and peep under your breath.

“Yeah,” you say, “that was just… Jihoon’s friend from uni, I suppose,” you complete, and the sentence hints at nothing– it doesn’t clear out the confusion, it doesn’t outright say anything that could make Mark believe that it was just a casual hang-out with a friend, but still, you see the boy visibly relax as he nods to you and offers you a tight-lipped smile.

“Oh,” he hums, looking out of the window, past the profile of your face. The change in topic is sudden and sharp, but also welcome as he falls into a casual conversation with you, and suddenly, you’re reminded by the Mark you once knew– the guy you’ve once called not socially awkward, but so social that it’s awkward– as he talks to you about his day and rambles on about the weather. “It’s good that it won’t rain today, I bet the view will be nice.”

Locking your gaze with him for a brief second, you lick your lips and point your eyes towards the ground. It’s good that it won’t rain today, as opposed to last time you two went to the Bukhansan trail. You wonder if he remembers.

Before you have a chance to mention it– and in all reality, you won’t, no matter how bold you could be feeling at the moment– the train comes to a stop at your station and you hop out of the carriage, ready for the hike.

It’s easy to forget how messed up things have gotten between the two of you when you walk alongside with your ex boyfriend, laughing at his silly jokes and gasping at everything he shows to you with a pointed finger, finding yourself admiring the sound of his giggle when he spots a squirrel pass your path somewhere near the top of the hill. The trail is almost empty at this hour, since the two of you have decided to go in the late afternoon, and you find your soul to finally be at peace after so many weeks, you finally feel relaxed in the nature, one with the wind and the gentle sound of birds chirping lullying your running thoughts to a rest. 

You realize that this is just what you needed all this time. You needed to get out and walk for some while, to tune out yourself and to accept the fact that you’re still here, for another day, and something about that is still a blessing. Watching the back of Mark’s head as he walks a step in front of you due to the narrowness of the trail in this area, you smile to yourself. It’s easy to forget just how much you were hurt by him when he heals your soul with such a simple gesture. It’s easy to forget you were hurt when he seemingly tries to put all the broken pieces back together, glue them to where they were in the first place, when things were easier and you both didn’t have so many things to worry about. 

You reach the top just as the sun starts setting over the horizon, and there are only a few people scattered across the peak, sitting on their own picnic blankets and gazing into the distance. The hues of the sky paint the world in a different color, the oranges, pinks and muted purples playing with your heartstrings as you come to a halt and crouch down and feel the presence of another soul mirror your actions only a meter away to your right, his gaze glued to your side. The view is beautiful, but the feeling of being watched isn’t ignorable anymore, and so you turn to your companion and raise your eyebrows at him, wondering if he has something to say.

You don’t know how you’ll be able to come back to your life after this and pretend you still don’t want to spend every passing second with the man on your right. You don’t know how you’re supposed to ignore the ever so growing love for him– even though after being so disappointed with the past, the feelings should be decreasing, not doing the opposite– and frankly, you don’t even want to think of going back to the way it’s been for the past few months. And so you don’t– you allow yourself to indulge the moment, to ignore the pain that’s about to come, just so you could hold another beautiful memory to your heart and enjoy the moment before it hurts you to think of it tomorrow morning. 

“It’s even more beautiful than the last time,” Mark hums, but his eyes never leave your figure– if you were still dating, you bet he’d come out with a cheesy line about how you’re prettier than the view, or something. “It didn’t rain this time around, thank god.”

Gazing at him, you shake your head in disbelief. Scoffing, you play with the grass between your fingers. “You remember that?”

“Yeah,” he hums, “I remember a lot of things.”

The sentence makes you bitterly chuckle. He knows why you’re reacting the way you are– and you have every right to. He claims to remember a lot of things, but the ones important to you, the ones you wanted him to remember, he failed to save into his memory. And that’s eventually what made you break up with him, at the end of it all.

At your reaction, he sighs and drags a hand across his face, seemingly realizing the weight of his own words and just how ridiculous he must have sounded to you right now. 

“I- That-” he stutters, shaking his head, “that sounded stupid right now, considering… everything… Didn’t it?”

“Kind of,” you nod, not wanting to meet his eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out, voice suddenly raw and serious, so different to the tone he’s been using with you the whole afternoon, “I don’t- I can’t remember if I said that back then, when you- when you… broke up with me, but I really am sorry, Y/N. You didn’t deserve that, and I am in no way shape or form trying to make this about me, but I hate myself every day for the way things turned out and if I could go back to that day, I’d do so many things differently.”

The sky in front of you deepens in reds and you taste iron on your tongue, suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that you’ve managed to bite on your lip too hard in the midst of the conversation. Tearing out stems of grass with your clammy fingertips, you focus on the clouds running through the sky, calculating your next response.

“Okay,” you nod, not giving him much else. The answer perfectly encapsulates the way you feel on the inside right now– you don’t know if you’re ready to accept his apology, if you’re ready to let go of it and act like you weren’t hurt or that none of it ever happened, but you listened to him and you internalized his words. He is sorry. He knows he was in the wrong. And you were aware that he knew all of this before– hell, you’d even go as far as say he knew it the moment you knocked on his door that day and told him it was over– but hearing it from him surely moved something inside of you to a more comfortable place.

“I-” he starts, voice breaking making him clear his throat before he continues, “I don’t expect you to forgive me. And I know I shouldn’t have expected you to still be my friend after all of this, and that- I shouldn’t have even called you so many times and approached you at the store and stuff, but um-” he mumbles, shrugging to himself, “I guess I just couldn’t stay away from you. And again, I don’t expect you to forgive me, I don’t expect you to do anything, really. So… yeah…”

Snickering at his aimless monologue, you shake your head in disbelief. “Mark?”

“Yeah?” he stares at you, eyes a bottomless pool of emotion.

“Why did you invite me here today? What was the… point, I guess?” you ask, hugging your knees to your chest as the breeze makes goosebumps appear all over your body. 

Mark offers you a sad smile, head leaned to his right as he shrugs, and this time, his eyes don’t leave yours as he spills the truth into the air. “I guess I was just feeling selfish today,” he hums, and the sentence makes you cringe with the memory of his first call to you after your break up, “wanted to spend time with you.”

“Here, of all places?”

“Yeah,” he nods, “told you. I was feeling selfish.”

Snickering, you look away, staring at the sky again. The colors are starting to blend together into a deep, dark purple– the horizon darkening as the sun starts to say its final goodbyes to the day. You sigh to yourself, yet feel no bitterness or terror at his words. Somehow, you understand. Somehow, you get him a little too well. Somehow, you think you knew the moment he texted you today, and somehow, you think you felt it in your bones when you didn’t say no, although you could have. There’s calmness in your soul when you nod at the implication of his words, leaning back on your elbows and plopping your bottom to the ground, sitting at the dusty surface. 

“You said you didn’t expect anything out of me today, Mark.”

“And I don’t,” he says, voice soft. 

“And you brought me here to remind me of the last time we went?” you stare at him, a hint of a bitten-back smile playing with your lips. “Because you’re selfish?” 

He nods, not escaping your gaze. “To remind you of the last time we went. To show you that… I remember, I guess. And that I still care, just like the last time. If not more.”

“Mark, you can’t just say all of this and expect nothing out of me right now,” you mutter.

“Actually, I can. Because that’s what I’m doing. I’m just… laying it out in the open, and what you do with the information is completely, completely up to you,” he explains, and you find yourself chuckling at him, the atmosphere instantly lighter as you hear his voice in its usual casualness, talking to you as if he was just unpacking what went on in class today, and not the starting and the end of your one year relationship.

And he’s right. What you do with the information is completely up to you, and the next steps and the progress of your relationship with Mark Lee is also completely in your hands. You could turn away and never talk to him again, you could curse at him and tell him that it’s too late now and he missed his chance, but if that was the case, you wouldn’t be here in the first place. He wouldn’t be inviting you to this place, lying about his roommate canceling just to trick you into going, and you wouldn’t be blindly accepting the invitation, wanting to see where the afternoon brings you. 

“So you still care about me?” you hum, looking at him from under your eyelashes, noticing his slouched-over pose as he looks back at you over his shoulder.

“Always have,” he admits, “never stopped. Despite not really… acting like it in the past few months.”

“Why’d you stop acting like it, then?” you ask.

A sigh escapes his lips, his head turning forward before he leans back and sits cross-legged on the ground, more comfortably now. Shrugging, he answers the question. “I guess I just got too caught up with different things. And don’t get me wrong, you were always my priority, always, but I was all over the place with everything and my mind just couldn’t… there were too many things to keep up with and I couldn’t stay up to date with everything,” he says, “and I know it’s not an excuse, but it’s an explanation, and it doesn’t make it better or undo the pain I’ve caused you, but it’s… at least you know it was never because I’d care about you any less.”

His eyes bear into yours with such honesty you think the weight of the world will crash on you any minute, and suddenly, the whole situation seems so much clearer.

And you wouldn’t take it back, you wouldn’t undo the breakup or do anything differently, because at the end of the day, you think it was needed. Perhaps the time apart was what he needed as a wake up call and what you needed to shield yourself from hurting more. 

“Stop me from saying it if you… if you don’t want to hear it right now,” he hums, voice barely louder than a whisper. There seems to be a silent communication between the two of you, a connection of some sort that brings out the strange telepathy, but you just nod at him, a gentle smile playing with your lips as you understand exactly what he means, telling him that it’s okay and that you don’t mind– you welcome, you need to hear him say it again.

Licking his lips, he turns to you fully, facing you. There’s not a hint of nervousness in his body, having done this a lot of times before, and then it happens– the repeated confession, confirming what was there the whole time, never leaving even when the times were rough. 

“I love you,” he says.

And isn’t that all that’s needed? 

A year is a long time with someone. Somehow, you wouldn’t want the time to go to waste. At the end of the day, if love is still present, isn’t it worth trying? One more time?

“And you still don’t expect anything from me?” you ask, gazing at him softly. “You don’t expect me to say it back?”

“No,” he breathes out, shrugging. “I just needed to get it off my chest.”

“Because you’re selfish like that,” you nod, teasing him. 

“Because I’m selfish like that,” he agrees, breaking out into a slight grin.

Looking at the sky, now completely dipped in dark purple, you sigh to yourself at the turmoil of the conversation. You don’t say it back– although you feel it, you know it’s in there, playing with your heartstrings and clenching the muscle in the palm of its hand– you know love is there, deep inside, for the man that’s currently staring at you as if you hung the very stars appearing on the sky there yourself, stolen them from your own eyes and gluing them there selflessly, for everyone to see. You don’t tell him you love him back, you don’t tell him you forgive him or accept his apology. You don’t worry about what tomorrow will bring you, what your brain is going to tell you when you come down from the hill and get home, lay in your bed and overthink. You let the worries escape you, letting fondness and calm envelope you in a tight hug instead.

“Okay,” you nod, watching the boy next to you look at you with curious eyes. You take his hand into yours and place it on your thigh, playing with his fingers for a heartbeat before you meet his eyes again and smile. “I won’t say it back, but for all it’s worth, Mark… I’m glad you remembered.”

And that’s all he needs– there is love, there is fondness, and there is the silent confirmation that all you need right now is just a bit more time. 

Where do broken hearts go?

Somehow, you think they hold on to the place where it all started. Somehow, you think your heart never went anywhere– it stayed on this hill, waiting for you to pay it a visit and pick back up everything right from where you left it.

“It doesn’t seem like a good idea to go here today, Y/N,” Mark laughed behind you as he looked up to the sky, the dark clouds shielding the sun that had been previously shining down on your hiking figures, casting an orange glow on the strands of your hair. 

“Well, there’s no turning back now,” you shrugged, turning to him and grinning as you tugged on his hand, grip strong as you dragged the boy up the trail, your sneakers fast against the dirty ground. “We have finals starting next week and it’s gonna be too cold to go after the exam season is over, so we gotta go now.”

“I kind of regret telling you that I’ve never been here before now,” Mark sighed, but followed you nonetheless, breathlessly following your excited stride. It was October, the leaves on the trees were welcoming the two of you in shining colors, and the wind kissing your skin turned a bit chilly in the evenings– courtesy of the warm hoodie Mark shyly lended you when you shivered for the first time, adoring the way you, his friend, looked in the light gray fabric. Something about you wearing his clothes made the boy a bit hopeless about the day. Maybe he’ll have enough courage to confess his feelings to you, he thought. Maybe, despite the first raindrops falling on the skin of his bare arms, this evening will have a happy ending for you and him. 

“Oh, please,” you squinted at him, continuing to run up the hill– thank god it wasn’t that steep, serving both of you as the perfect hiking difficulty, “even if you wouldn’t have, I’d drag you here anyway. It’s like, my favorite place to go in Seoul, haven’t I told you before?”

You have, Mark thought. But he was okay with hearing it again. 

You squealed when the raindrops got heavier and the rain started pouring faster on the two of you, and Mark found himself laughing at your running figure. He was right behind you, praying that you don’t slip on one of the rocks and break your leg on the hiking trail, but he encouraged you with sweet comments and a hand on the small of your back as he watched the tip of the hill appear right in front of his very eyes, your body coming to a satisfied halt when you reached your destination.

“Tada!” you grinned at him, twirling a little like a ballerina, showing him the place with outstretched arms. He tried hard to observe the place, but his eyes stayed glued to your excited figure, gaze bearing into yours as you looked at him, amidst a little flustered, with sparkly orbs and a bright smile on your face. Your hair was a mess, his gray hoodie enveloping your body was slowly growing darker in color from absorbing the rain, and your sneakers were getting a bit muddy from walking around the place. He wanted to remember this moment forever, he thought– this version of you, the smiley expression on your face, the carefree and excited nature of your step. 

“Isn’t it beautiful?” you exclaimed, jumping around and nearing the boy, but as you went to take his hand to drag him around the top of the hill once more, your feet slipped and you fell forward, a surprised squeak battling its way out of your throat.

Your whole life flashed in front of your very eyes in that moment, embarrassment spreading down your neck at the fact that you were about to fall face first onto the ground in front of your crush of a few months, before your body collided with a soft, yet firm mass engulfing you closer. A pair of strong arms steadied you against his chest, and when you looked up at your friend, you swear all words were taken out of your dictionary, the sight leaving you speechless.

“It is,” he gaped, eyes bearing into yours. Mark was agreeing with you, but something in the back of your head was telling you that he didn’t really admire this place as much as you did– his curious gaze was always plastered somewhere completely else. 

That place being your face, of course. And your eyes, your cheeks, the mess of your bangs, and occasionally– screw that, almost always– your lips. Much like in that moment, a few centimeters away from his face, so inviting he thought it would be a crime to contain the urge. 

And so he didn’t– he didn’t control his feelings and the ever-so growing yearning for you, as he silently leaned towards your face and captured his lips with yours in a firm, yet short kiss.

He looked at you with a nervous tint behind his gaze when he leaned away, the sight of your wide eyes staring at him making a slight flush grow on his cheeks. You looked so beautiful in that moment– flustered, surprised, with messy hair and lips still apart– and he was relieved to not find a hint of a displeased emotion in your expression. 

“Okay, so- well-” you stuttered, laughing to yourself, “this didn’t go as I planned, but I guess I’m happy as long as the final result is the same,” you hummed, standing on your tippy-toes and pressing your lips against him once more, this time letting yourself enjoy the moment fully, mouth moving against his in a careful, yet excited rhythm. He tasted like the strawberry candy you offered him on the bottom of the trail and smelled a bit like rain, the mixture always staying in the depths of your mind as his warmth enveloped you in comfort and a feeling of home.

“The final result being…?” he asked when you pulled apart once again, a dazed expression overtaking his sharp features.

“Us,” you shrugged, “like this,” you clarified.

Mark laughed at that, hugging you closer to his chest. You rested your head on his shoulder, listening to the sound of raindrops washing away the top layer of dirt off the rocks on the tip of the hill, hands sneaking around his waist and enjoying the way they wrapped around him so tightly and so comfortably. You in his hoodie, in your favorite place, standing in his arms. It was raining, but it didn’t matter.

“Mark?” 

“Hm?” 

“If we ever get lost, or something happens… bring me back here, okay?” you mumbled close to his ear, lips gently glazing the skin of his ear, making goosebumps appear all over your new lover. “I’m convinced that this place could fix everything.”

“Even us?” 

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not allowed to ever leave me now, what would there be to fix between us?” you smacked his shoulder, snickering to yourself.

“You never know,” he laughed, “what if I accidentally mess up somewhere along the way?” he asked, threading his fingers through your hair, smoothing down the wet mess.

“Okay then,” you hummed, “even us.”

Staring into your eyes, letting the moment play out by itself, Mark swore he’s never felt more at peace. He wondered if it was the effect of the place, the rain, or just your sheer presence.  “I’ll remember that,” he giggled before he let go of your body, petting your head as he took a hold of your hand, tugging you down from where you came from, “now let’s go home before we catch a cold.”

Nodding, following the man as you both carefully, yet fastly made it down the trail, you enjoyed the way his hand fit into yours and the way you knew that after this, you can’t ever come back to being friends with Mark Lee. He was all yours, completely, utterly yours, and you knew in the back of your head, that you were his– and nothing will ever change that.

You would always come back to the hill with him. It felt ridiculous to think about you two ever having to fix anything between the two of you back then, but even in that moment, you knew that for him, you’d keep trying. As long as he does– as long as he remembers.

Where do broken hearts go? You guess they always come right back to the place they come from– and they leave glued back together every single time.

You guess your heart never really left the hill.

[just-a-ghost00]

What are they hiding from you?

Group 1 - Howl

Cards : 5 Ochre Sea Star - embrace rapid changes, king of wands, Power, Moonstone - find your natural rythm

There are a lot of sexual references subtly hidden in these cards. As I was shuffling your cards, the song Okay from Chase Atlantic was playing. Then as I started with the reading, two other songs played : Aerials- System of a down & Tied to your body - Monsta X. If you were doubting this person's attraction for you, here is your confirmation that they are into you. They feel a lot of desire for you and apparently they have finally decided to act upon it. There's a lot of fire in the air, excitement, giddiness. They can't wait to see your reaction when they reveal to you what they were hiding. And looking at the cards, that could be happening really soon. I'd say within a few days. This person will either bluntly tell you about their intentions or they will let something slip that will betray them. I was picturing fireworks for some reason. Maybe there's a carnival going on in your town or a festive even of some sort that you will attend to together. This would make sense because of the moonstone card I'm getting a night time energy. The next new or full moon seem to be significant. FIY, the next new moon happens on the 5th of July. Oh and July 4 is Independance day. It is a celebration. Well, if you were planning on celebrating this commemorial day with friends, the night could turn out to be interesting to say the least ;) The next full moon is happening on the 21st of July. So maybe these two dates will be important for you and the person you're thinking about.

Group 2 - Haku

Cards : 13 Dumbo Octopus - Stop chasing and attract what you desire, 2 of cups, reclaim, Bismuth - rewrite your code with rainbows

While I was shuffling your cards, the song Attitude from The GazettE was playing on my speaker. And as I started channeling and writing your messages, Teardrops from BMTH started playing. This person that you're thinking about is tired of waiting for love to come to them. They are tired of trying relationship after relationship just to be heartbroken and deceived by people. They are tired of waiting for you to make the first step. They want to hide from you that they love you and intend to conquer you. They want to step into your connection with a better and healthier energy than what they were into before. They are reclaiming their power and their place in your heart. They may have lost track of who they were and what they wanted from love, from the connection you shared, from their partnerships in general. They came out of a state of confusion and sadness. They've realised that they only live once, that fighting only to mourn what was lost is meaningless, that everything has a start and an end. Including their own life. They don't want to waste time crying or doing meaningless things. They want to live, to love, to laugh, to have fun with life so that they have no regret. They know that if they had given up on you, they'd have regreted it so they intend to come back. The reason they hide that from you is because they fear rejection. It may take some time before this person states their truth. If I had to give you an estimated timing, I would say several months.

Group 3 - Ashitaka

Demons in your dreams - Motionless in white BTBT - B.I ft DeVita and Soulja Boy Honeymoon avenue - Ariana Grande blueberry eyes - MAX ft SUGA

Cards : 25 Mantis shrimp - don't give up now, Destruction, Agate - find your solid ground, 8 of cups

There were several references to demons in the songs that were playing during your reading. Combined with the energy of Mantis shrimp and Destruction, it feels like your person is fighting inner and external battles. For some it could be related to addictions. This person is trying to move away from something that is detrimental to their healt, whether it's a person, a situation or a material thing. I'm picking up on several scenarios. I was getting for some that they are actually trying to cut ties with you. They are tired of fighting for something that they know deep down they can't change. They've been trying really hard but now they realize that moving on is the best thing they can do. But for others, this person is attached to you and loves you a ton but they know that there are things and people in their life that prevent them from being there for you, be a good person to you. Again that could be addictions, certain connections, or a toxic attitude overall when it comes to you. They are willing to put in the work in order to be a better version of themselves that you would be safe with. They are not telling you this because it is a very vulnerable period of their life which they do not wish to show. They feel like telling you would hurt you and the last thing they want to do is destroy what you have, regardless of whether they intend to stay or not. They don't want to be bad to you, they still care enough to be the bigger person and do what is necessary.

[joelscruff]

beyond infatuation (joel/f!reader/tommy) 18+

(this is such silly and self indulgent gif usage but also it's funny to imagine that this is how joel asked to start this arrangement in the first place lmao)

summary: joel & tommy have an arrangement where they share you, no strings attached. (no jealousy in this fic, nothin' but love) rating: 18+ explicit (minors don't interact) warnings: oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex, creampie, cucking (i guess??), praise kink word count: 1.2k

You stay the night at Tommy's without meaning to. You'd had a long day helping out at the farm and it doesn't help that both Tommy and Joel have kept you awake for long hours this week. Not that you're necessarily complaining.

You'd shuffled into Tommy's house with a sleepy expression, body already loose and ready to climb into bed. He'd taken one look at you and dashed over to pick you up, carried you bridal style into his bedroom and laid you down.

"Do you need anythin', sweetheart?" he'd asked softly, carefully undressing you as you closed your eyes and melted into his sheets.

There was a reason you'd gone specifically to Tommy's and not to your own house; part of you still wanted something before you drifted off, something only Tommy and Joel know how to give you. Seeing those big eyes looking up at you with sheer desire but no expectation... you couldn't help yourself. You'd nodded slowly as Tommy had removed your jeans, pointed to your crotch. He'd understood immediately.

A few moments later his nose was buried in your dripping heat, tongue plunging in and out of you at the perfect speed as you moaned into his quiet bedroom and let yourself just feel him. It didn't take long for you to reach your climax, writhing and shaking against his mouth while he swallowed you down and gripped your hips tightly.

"Goodnight, sweet girl," he'd murmured as you felt yourself fall into sleep, vaguely aware of him scooching in beside you on the bed and spooning you from behind.

Now it's morning and you're laying languidly in Tommy's bed, still naked and reveling in the fact that you finally have a day off. You turn in bed and find that Tommy has already left for the day, though he left you a sweet little note telling you he'll miss you but that Joel will be stopping by during his lunch break. You smile, pressing a gentle kiss to the paper; you love your romantic boys.

You busy yourself in Tommy's kitchen, not bothering to put on any clothes or get ready to head home. If Tommy told Joel you're here, there's no need to leave. Like clockwork there's a knock at the door around noon; the special knock - Joel.

"Come in," you call from the kitchen, seated at the table munching on the sandwich you'd made.

Joel enters with a soft expression, not even surprised to see you sitting in Tommy's kitchen completely naked. You smile up at him sweetly, taking one more bite of your lunch before putting your arms up in expectance. Joel understands without any words being said, picking you up just like Tommy had last night and carrying you back to the bedroom.

"Tommy said you worked hard yesterday," he murmurs to you as he lays you down on the bed, "Said he gave you a little reward before you went to sleep."

You nod, "He did."

"It's my turn now, darlin', got about half an hour before I gotta head back," Joel replies, fingers tracing over your naked body with abandon, "What do you want? I'll give you anything you ask."

You don't know what you did to deserve two men who will do absolutely anything for you, be whoever you need them to be. You bite down on your lip and stretch your arms and legs out on the bed, loving the way Joel ogles you from above.

"Fuck me, please," you say softly, "Deep."

There's no hesitation or misunderstanding in Joel's actions; he knows exactly what you mean, knows exactly how to please you. He's already rock hard when he pulls his cock out of his pants, not bothering to undress; he knows you like it when you're naked and they stay clothed, especially for quick moments like this. He wastes no time in pushing his cock inside your wet pussy, already stretched out and ready for him from the amount of times you've been fucked by both of them this week.

"Hold on to me, babygirl," he whispers, then pounds you the way he knows you like as your nails dig into his shirt, stained with dirt and smelling like wood shavings from working in construction all day. You love how they both have such different feels, different scents. You love how their cocks feel different, love how they fuck you in their own ways but always in the exact way you need them to.

"Joel," you whine in his ear, "Joel."

You both hear the special knock again from the other room; Tommy must have also wanted to stop by for his lunch break. Joel doesn't stop or slow down, just calls out, "Bedroom," and continues to fuck you good and hard.

Arms wrapped around Joel as he pounds you deep, you look up with hooded lids to see Tommy leaning against the doorframe, watching. He smiles at you when he sees you looking, crosses his arms and assesses the way Joel fucks you into the mattress, his mattress.

Anyone else would probably be jealous, shocked, might get angry or leave. But Tommy and Joel are the ones who came up with this arrangement in the first place; there's no jealousy or anger here, only your pleasure. That's all that matters to them.

"Yeah, that's right, give it to her," Tommy murmurs under his breath, barely loud enough to hear over the springs of the bed squeaking with Joel's thrusts, "Nice and deep, the way she likes."

"You know I am," Joel grunts, then pulls his face back to look down at you, "Aren't I, darlin'? I'm fuckin' you so good, huh?"

"Yes," you manage to squeak out, brows furrowing together as you feel your release building in your stomach, "So good, Joel."

It only takes a few more thrusts before you're shaking beneath him from your orgasm, moaning out his name and shutting your eyes tight. You know Tommy is still watching, can feel his eyes on you as Joel pounds into you one final time before emptying himself inside you, filling you with come.

"Fuck," you whimper, collapsing beneath Joel onto Tommy's bed and feeling your eyes roll back when he pulls his cock out.

"Look at that," Joel says softly, more to Tommy than to you, "You seein' what I'm seein'?"

"Jesus," Tommy mutters, and you open your eyes enough to see them both staring at your fucked-out hole, watching Joel's come dribble downward into the sheets, "Filled her up real good."

You lay there catching your breath while both Tommy and Joel spring into action for your aftercare, Joel slipping into bed beside you to hold you close and whisper praises in your ear while Tommy wets a washcloth and returns to wipe you down, pressing kisses to your tummy and thighs. You've never felt as loved as you do after they're done with you, the way they both make sure you're well taken care of and satisfied.

"We gotta head out now," Joel murmurs against your hair, "You go back to sleep and enjoy your day off, okay?"

"Okay," you breathe, eyes closed as you start to drift off again, "Love you. Both of you."

"We love you too, angel," Tommy says from somewhere to your left, reaching down to stroke your cheek gently, "We'll see you again tonight."

You feel Joel kiss the back of your neck just as Tommy leans down and kisses your forehead. Heaven. You're in heaven.

[softpascalito]

I To Dig a Grave I Chapter 1 I

Summary: Twenty-one years after the outbreak, you come to Wyoming looking for something and end up in Jackson after a stranger saves your life.

But he doesn't stay a stranger.

Turns out Joel Miller is looking for something too. It feels like a fresh start. But when bad luck seems to follow you, Joel is the only one to turn to, forcing both of you to confront your feelings about your pasts- and each other.

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader Rating: Explicit / MDNI Word count: 7k+ Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Age Difference, Smut, Explicit Content, Grief/Mourning, Mental Health Issues, Canon-Typical Violence, Chose not to use Archive Warnings, Tags to be added

AO3 LINK // Series Masterlist // Playlist

notes: this work has been quite a while in the making and im very excited to finally share the first chapter! a huge thank you to the wonderful josie for being my beta reader and listening to all my rambling <3

this fic will deal with heavy topics. please note that it doesn't use archive warnings and tags will be added as we go in order to avoid spoilers. each chapter will have detailed warnings in the end notes on ao3.

Chapter 1 - The Before

‘‘I will be very sad to leave here’, Yves said, suddenly. ‘I have never been happier than I have been in this house.’ ‘I have been very happy too. I wonder if we will ever be so happy again.’’  - Another Country, James Baldwin

You’d been on the run for what felt like weeks but could only have been days when you found the gas station next to an abandoned mall. It had looked promising, the half-rotten advertisements plastered to the walls, reminding your stomach that it had gone far too long without a proper meal, or any meal for that matter.

Maybe if you hadn’t been so starved or so tired, you would’ve heard them coming, the Infected that stormed through the back door practically the moment you slipped into the building. A yell escaped your throat, your hand instinctively reaching for the knife you kept buckled to your leg. You didn't even get the chance to pull it out of its makeshift holster before the creature was on top of you, pinning you to the floor with what felt like inhuman strength.

“Fucking- get off-” you grunted, but even if the thing on top of you had been one that listened to commands, your thin and shaky voice likely wouldn’t have impressed it.

So this was how you were gonna go out. In a town you couldn't even name, somewhere in the snowy mountains of Wyoming, after finally escaping the life you’d been stuck in for so long. You hadn't even made it a month.

For a second, you considered trying to reach for your gun, still tucked into your pants and pressing into your back uncomfortably. You could feel its outline against your skin, a pain shooting through your spine as the Infected seemed to double its effort to reach your neck with its mouth, half-rotten teeth close enough that you could recognize the foul smell of death.

Then, the gun went off. Or you thought it did. The unmistakable sound of a gunshot rang in your ears as the Infected collapsed on top of you. But the feeling of your pistol pressing into your back was still there. It had been a gun. But not yours.

“I got her!” a voice above you bellowed out, an unmistakable southern drawl. “Tommy, give me some cover here, goddammit!”

You hadn't even noticed the second man, who was now aiming his gun at another runner storming towards him. He fired, once, twice, and the Infected let out a howl before its body hit the tiled floor with a thud.

“Hey, you with me?” The man above you leaned down, shoving the Infected that had been on top of you to the side unceremoniously. He was dressed in a worn jacket, jeans and boots, the latter two splattered with blood. His right hand, covered in a weathered leather glove, was stretched out towards you, an invitation to, well, you weren't exactly sure.

“She good?”

The second man approached the pair of you, your eyes flying over to him for a split moment. He was dressed similarly, except that he looked a little younger than his partner. He shouldered his rifle and tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear. Your gaze flew back to the man in front of you, to the brown eyes that carried an unexpectedly gentle look, not quite matching the gruff way he looked. Shaking slightly, you placed your hand in his, and the next moment, he was pulling you to your feet.

“There you are.”

You nodded, a motion that looked more like your head was jerking on its own accord. But the man seemed to accept it. As the other one stepped towards you, the taller of the two men spoke again.

“You clean?” When no response came, he pressed on, his tone getting a little more impatient. “Did it bite you? Scratch you anywhere?”

The other one gently placed a hand on his chest, forcing your attention onto himself. “Can you walk? Our horses are two houses over, we've got a place where you can rest, get some food-”

“I'm not going anywhere with you,” you blurted out. You'd had your fair share of people, of men offering you ‘help’ and it never stopped there. There was payment, always. In this world, it was stupid to think there wouldn't be, that anyone would help you out of the kindness of their hearts.

“You're not going anywhere else by the looks of it, either,” the man with the gloves muttered, more than loud enough for you to hear. “You won't last a week.”

“I've lasted longer, asshole,” you shot back, suddenly angry at the stranger in front of you. He didn't know you, he didn't know the things you'd gone through to get here. So what if he had saved your life? It didn't give him the right to predict your death.

The other man nudged his ribs, extending his hand to you as well, though it was more of a formality this time. 

“Name’s Tommy. The asshole is my brother Joel.”

He paused for a moment, clearly thinking about how to approach this the right way. “Look, I'm sure you've been traveling for quite some time. We can give you a place to recover. You can leave anytime, I promise.”

You eyed him carefully. It did sound too good to be true. But it also did sound- good. A roof over your head, warm food in your stomach- two things you'd been craving for quite some time.

“Okay.”

The man who had introduced himself as Tommy gave a short nod and led the way to the horses, following tracks in the snow the two men had left while coming to your rescue. Joel pulled up the rear and you had a feeling that his eyes were trained on you, watching carefully, maybe for a twitch or anything else out of the ordinary. Again, you weren't sure why, but it made you angry.

“I told you I wasn't bit,” you repeated in his direction as Tommy began untying the horses. 

Joel raised a brow, clearly surprised by the attitude in your voice. “‘ts what they usually say.”

“Well, I'm not,” you replied, turning your back on him and focusing on his brother instead. Tommy pretended not to have heard either of you but somehow you were certain he had.

“C’mon, you can ride with me. It's not too far.”

Not too far turned out to be a good hour, the crisp autumn air making you shiver, and you were thankful for the warmth of both the horse and Tommy. But what the ride lacked in temperature it made up for in views, the sun coming out just as you passed the first sign that read ‘Jackson County’.

You didn't even mind Joel's occasional glances towards you as much, finding that with the sunlight playing in his brown curls, his look screamed less of danger and more of concern. Whether it was concern for Tommy or you or something entirely different, you weren't sure.

The answer came to you in the form of your housing arrangements. After getting over the first shock of riding up a busy mainstreet in what looked like an actual, functioning town, a thing you hadn't thought possible anymore, you had made use of what must have been the first functioning toilet you'd seen in months. You felt like a child being steered through the crowd at a busy carnival, if the food hall, the functioning plumbing and electricity and the music drifting from one of the smaller shops was any indication.

“You know we ain't got any unoccupied places and Maria and mine’s no good with the baby screaming all night,” Tommy muttered urgently and you frowned a little. The two men were standing a few feet away, clearly unaware that you were already back and you awkwardly shoved your hands in your pockets, considering going back inside for a moment. But then Joel opened his mouth and you couldn't help but listen in on their conversation. The older man seemed as much a mystery as the entire scene around you.

Tommy piped up before Joel even had a chance to argue. “It's just for a couple of nights. I’m sure Ellie and you will manage. You take her in, explain the basics and as soon as we got a place, you can go back to shutting yourself off from every goddamn person in this town-”

“I don’t-” Joel interrupted before shaking his head, a low grunt leaving his throat.

“Fine. Until Thursday, no longe-” He broke off at the look on Tommys face, one that was aimed directly at you. You shyly nodded in his direction and closed the distance between you in a few quick steps. 

The younger man cleared his throat, giving you a reassuring smile. “Find everything okay?”

“Yeah, thanks,” you replied politely. You hated how forced the conversation felt, already regretting listening in on it at all.

“Joel here’s gonna get you settled for the night, you let him know if you need anything else. I'll stop by in the morning and introduce you to Maria, she’s-”

“The boss,” Joel finished for him, earning a small glare from Tommy. 

“One of our elected leaders,” he corrected, another smile playing around his lips at the mention of what you assumed must be his wife. “Well, I'll leave ya two to it.”

Joel took you home. He still gave you that look, and with Tommy gone, you could be sure that it was actually aimed towards you. It was like he was still on guard but whether it was of you or something else, you couldn't tell.

“Here's how this is gonna go,” he started as he fumbled with the front door of the house clad in white. “You get a quick check-up, a shower, some fresh clothes- you get the idea.”

“I get the idea,” you repeated as he led you into the hallway, unable to keep yourself from glancing around for a moment, catching a peek of the dining room. “You live here by yourself?”

“Why?”

His question hit you out of nowhere and you stuttered for a moment, racking your brain for a good response, “Just- I was making conversation. Jesus.”

“Right,” Joel nodded, his gaze softening a bit. He placed his bag onto the floor and tapped his right thigh absent-mindedly. “Come on, follow me.”

He took you into the upstairs bathroom that smelled faintly of soap, reminding you that you hadn't had a proper wash in more days than you cared to count. There were a few small containers, mostly re-used mason jars, that were labeled ‘shampoo’ or ‘body wash’, sitting orderly on the small shelf next to the tub.

You felt more than heard Joel shift behind you and turned to meet his gaze. He was still watching, arms crossed, seemingly waiting for something.

“Do I- shower?” you asked softly and he sighed a little at that. 

“I need to check you for bites.” His voice was low but still carried a small note of sternness in it. 

Oh, right.

“I didn't agree to that.”

You could see his hand twitch, the handle of his revolver still sticking out the back of his jeans. “You're bit.”

It was more of a statement than anything else, like he already knew what was waiting for him under your clothes, maybe a bite on your leg, a scratch on your stomach. Joel had dealt with enough people that had been marked for death like that to know the signs of it. The thing was, he was wrong.

“Is this what it is?” you asked, quietly, trying to keep your voice from shaking.

“Excuse me?”

“Is that why you go outside, save people? So you can bring them back here, get them to take their clothes off for you-”

“Whoa-” Joel held up both hands, shaking his head very slowly. “I think we got off on the wrong foot here. I need to check you for bites, it’s protocol.” His voice was still deep, that southern drawl you heard earlier in the gas station still present but somehow softer. His features had shifted, seeming genuinely surprised by the turn of your conversation.

“Now, if you want someone else to do it, I can get a lady and let her look you over. We just want to be sure we don’t bring Infected in, that's all.”

“That's all?” you asked as he kept his eyes trained on you, his hands still up in the air and his expression soft.

“I swear, that's all. If you can show me you're not bit, I'll get you that shower, some food, you name it.”

You gave a small nod at that, your body deflating a little. It had been an incredibly long day and the man in front of you seemed genuine. If he wasn't, you could still try and bail.

Joel turned slightly under the pretense of grabbing a towel from below the sink but you knew he was attempting to give you a bit of privacy- even though he clearly didn’t trust you enough to fully turn his back on you. With shaky hands, you began to strip, holding back a wince as you forced your bruised body to move. The fabric of your shirt clung to your skin, dry blood forcing another whimper out of your throat.

You felt Joel's head snap towards you at that but ignored him, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of showing quite how uncomfortable you felt about going through this with him next to you.

He was quick and professional, his large hands brushing over your skin as he made sure you were clean.

“All good,” he commented shortly when he was satisfied, his shoulders relaxing a bit as he reached for a stack of folded towels. Then, his gaze rested on your head again, more specifically, on your matted hair.

“You want me to get someone to cut that for you? Might be easier than-”

“No,” you quickly piped up. You knew your body was malnourished and likely had a dozen other things wrong with it. You didn’t want to lose your hair too.

Joel nodded, his hand absent-mindedly trailing over a particularly nasty knot. “I think I got some soap conditioner in the closet. You want to give that a try?” 

“Yeah, that’d be great,” you responded curtly and Joel disappeared from the room for a few moments. He came back, as promised, with a soap smelling of jasmine and cotton. 

He didn’t seem as hesitant, now that he knew you weren’t bit. At least that’s what you assumed had caused the shift in him. It didn’t occur to you that it might be the fact that you were sitting on his bathroom tiles, shivering, assuming the worst in him, in men, hell, in society. That you looked like a wounded deer, ready to take off at the slightest notion of danger, no matter how badly you were already bleeding.

Joel was a lot more gentle than you would have expected a man of his build to be. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing, reaching just far enough to cover your entire hair, but never letting any conditioner run down onto your face. It made you wonder if he was a father. Then you remembered his brother had mentioned a girl earlier, Ellie. Still, you knew better than to ask. You’d likely be gone in a few days anyway.

But, there was one question that you couldn’t keep from slipping out of your mouth.

“Why did you think I was bit?”

Joel paused for a moment, his fingers slowing down ever so slightly as he seemed to think about his words.

“You weren’t fighting hard enough. To stay alive, I mean. You were acting like someone who knows that their time is up.”

An uncomfortable silence settled between the two of you. You felt his hand brush over the crown of your head, lathering the matted mess that was your hair with soap in small, circular motions.

“I thought it was,” you whispered, honestly. You couldn't bring yourself to lie to him. But you couldn't bring yourself to explain it either.

He didn’t ask.

Neither of you spoke again until you were curled up in his bed, him insisting to take the couch for the night. He’d fed you some soup, relieved when he saw that your stomach could handle that. He’d warned you that it might not, after getting so used to going days without food. You’d gotten some worn but warm clothes to wear after the shower and now your body was sinking into an actual mattress. It was more than you’d dreamed of just that morning.

Joel paused in the doorway, his hand tapping against his jeans, a habit you had already picked up on. It was like he didn’t know what to do with his hands when they weren’t holding a gun.

“You don’t have to leave,” he said quietly. “You know that, right?”

Your mouth went dry as you tried to keep your tone nonchalant. His expression told you that it wasn't exactly working. “Who said I was leaving?”

“You look like you will.”

Again, a quiet fell over you and you shook your head softly. “What, you were a psychologist before or something?”

He smiled weakly. “Contractor.”

After a short pause, he went on. “I know it's hard to- to trust. When ya first get here. I felt the same.” 

You felt a small breath leave your throat at that. “But it gets better?”

“There's hot water, three meals a day, fair working conditions. I don't think it gets much better out there,” he pointed out softly before giving you a small nod.

“I'll be downstairs if you need anything. Good night.”

27 months later

The almost-empty soap sits on your bathroom shelf, the one that’s screwed to the wall just above the worn-out bathtub. You’ve gotten it refilled every few months, sometimes sooner if you wanted to allow yourself a little treat. It still reminds you of your first day in Jackson, of the safety that you so quickly felt in every room of Joel's house.

You still have some time before you have to head to work and the blue sky promises a cold but clear day so you decided to go and check if you’re in luck with any available refills today. Stock always changes throughout the week and while there’s usually something available, you prefer to get your chosen products if possible.

No such luck.

“Sorry, we’re all out. Think patrols cleared out the store that had these a while ago,” the woman behind the counter says apologetically. “We have some others if you’d like to try a new one, there’s-”

“I’m good,” you quickly insist, giving her a small smile when you notice you may have sounded a little harsh. “I’ll just wait and see if some more comes in.”

In one quick motion, you turn around and head towards the door- only to run face-first into a broad chest draped in a thick, brown coat.

“Whoa.” The deep voice above you immediately sends a gentle warmth through your body and you take a small step back to be able to squint up at the man you bumped into.

“Sorry, Texas, didn't see you there.”

“I told you to stop calling me that,” Joel mutters weakly, fumbling with the small bag he is carrying before handing it over to the woman behind the counter. She thanks him and quickly begins to sort the items he has brought back from patrol. He’s wearing the thick coat you see on him whenever it drops below freezing, his dark boots leaving small pieces of wet mud on the floor of the small store. He’s been doing the creek trails then, most likely.

You’ve rarely been on patrol yourself, focusing your energy more on tasks inside the community. If it hadn’t been for Joel, you know you probably would have taken off in the first few days, maybe stolen some food and been on your way. But he’d gotten you to stay. With him, for a few days. Then they had found space for you in a small guesthouse close to the mainstreet, to be shared with a young woman not unlike yourself that had offered up her vacant bedroom.

You’d taken an instant liking to Lane. Joel had dropped you off at your new home, with the few things you owned, and you and her had both stood in the small kitchen in awkward silence, racking your brains for a good conversation starter. Of course, you’d come up with the one she probably heard every other day.

“I like your hair.”

It wasn’t a lie. Her hair was cut short but thick, and most importantly, it was blue. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen colored hair. It seemed to fit her though. The roots were brown and the overall color a little less vibrant than you’d seen in magazines of people before the outbreak. If anything, you liked this more.

“Thanks,” she said lamely, twisting her hand around the small cup she was holding. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I’m the worst at social shit,” she finally blurted out and it looked like she was half glad to admit it and half afraid of your reaction.

“Don’t worry. Me too,” you admitted, a grin spreading over both your faces, the silence seeming a lot more bearable now. She shrugged towards the counter, half a dozen muffins sitting on it. “You like blueberries? A friend let me nick these.”

She paused for a moment, brushing a strand of blue hair behind her ear. “I mean, technically they’re not real blueberries, the ground here is too dry for those. I think they’re called juneberries, but we never call them that.”

You figured she’d be a solid roommate if she’d just met you and was already sharing her sweets. Half an hour later, when you had vomited the blueberry muffins back up in your shared bathroom, Joel’s warning about solid food still ringing in your ears, when she was standing beside you, holding your hair back and handing you a washcloth when you were finished, you knew she’d be more than a roommate. She’d be your friend.

She had also been the one to get you into teaching. You’d been fascinated when she first told you about her job in town, teaching the children of Jackson practically every subject she could. Neither of you had been in school before the outbreak so it was all the more impressive, the way she managed to control a class without the need to get loud or hand out punishments.

You’d taken a liking to the classrooms of Jackson as well, reminiscing on the last summer before the world had gone to shit and the way you’d looked forward to being in school, learning all the things big girls did. Not getting to sit in a classroom, and you didn’t count those at FEDRA as actual classrooms, had been only one of so many things you felt you had missed out on.

So it felt even more special now when, after you got Maria to assign you as teacher alongside Lane, you spent your days in the colorfully decorated classrooms, teaching a variety of subjects and a variety of ages. It was similar to life in Jackson, not without its fair amount of challenges. But, just as Joel had promised the first night, you learned to trust and the more you did, the easier it was to let yourself be. Above all, to let yourself be happy.

Joel steps outside alongside you, his head jerking back towards the small supply store. “Did ya get everything?”

His voice is soft, and you like to imagine that he sounds a little more gentle when speaking to you compared to the others. Not that you see him talking to a lot of people either way. You're pretty sure it's why he prefers the patrols, less people to bother him and less voices to listen to. Even though you had a feeling, about a year after you arrived in Jackson, that he also preferred being paired up with Esther, a pretty woman who took care of the horses and frequented the patrols. Especially those with Joel.

You had almost hoped for them to end up together, to drive the images of Joel alone at his too large dining table out of your head. But they didn't and the images stayed. You had him over for dinner, every other month. It started as a thank-you for helping you through your first days and quickly developed into a rare but regular thing. Ellie or Lane joined you occasionally, happy to get a nice home-cooked dinner and some of the wine Joel usually brought along.

You didn't see too much of him outside of your little gatherings, only the normal occasions that presented themself around town. But it was nice to know that he was there, that he would bring his wine and compliment your cooking and make small-talk and listen to the new developments of your life.

“It makes sense for you to be a teacher,” he’d agreed after you’d updated him on your new position, causing you to raise a brow. 

“What is that supposed to mean? Think I can’t handle myself out on the group patrols?”

His face slowly changed at that, Joel urgently shaking his head, “I didn't mean-”

You cut him off with a small laugh, no longer able to stay serious at how panicked he looked. “I’m messing with you, old man. I know what you meant. I think it makes sense too. I like it.”

His shoulders relaxed slightly as he leaned back against the kitchen counter, grumbling a little under his breath.

It's Joel's voice that brings you back to the present. “I asked if you got everything?”

You shake your head to get rid of the thoughts, then it turns to shaking your head no. “They’re out of conditioner. But it’s fine, I can stretch mine a bit longer and maybe they’ll get some next week.”

“Ya still using the same one?” Joel asks, shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat and you nod. It's sweet that he remembers. It's been over two years, after all.

“Yeah. Liked it, never saw a reason to switch,” you explain lamely. He only gives a short nod, motioning for you to follow as he starts walking. 

You do, though perplexed. “School’s in the other direction.” “Thought your class didn’t start until ten today,” he points out. It never appears to you to ask how or why he knows this. When your steps slow down and your thoughts speed up simultaneously, he nudges you along.

“You want your soap or not?” he grumbles and your face lights up a little at that. 

“You got some?” 

Joel gives another quick nod. “Brought them back a few weeks ago. I would’ve given them to you if I knew ya still used them.”

You trot beside him like a puppy, making your way down Rancher Street and up the flight of stairs that leads to the small house clad in white. The noise of the wind chimes tied to a beam above his front porch drifts over to you, the gentle breeze creating a slow melody.

You haven’t been in his upstairs bathroom for years. It’s odd and it feels too intimate, seeing the place where he brushes his teeth in the morning, where he washes himself after a long day. You don't belong in a space this personal. You don't belong to him.

It felt different when you were curled up on the same white tiles, letting him check your bruised and battered body for signs of Infection. For a split moment, it did feel like you belonged, in a way.

Joel's hand brushes over yours as he hands you the soap, the one smelling of jasmine and cotton and safety. 

The rest of the day is a blur of lessons and grading, but the smell of the soap seems to linger, the comforting feeling in your stomach getting you through the work day. It doesn’t end until seven with you staying behind to tutor some kids for an upcoming exam and then to finish preparing said exam. The smell of food fills the air as you open your front door and you smile as you poke your head into the kitchen, “Smells good.”

Lane is seated at the table, a few papers in front of her. Likely an exam of her own, you think to yourself. Even after the world has ended, finals season still exists.

“My mum made that pasta you like so much today. Figured I'd save you some,” she says, nodding towards the tupperware sitting on the counter.

“You're an angel.” You whistle as you head deeper into the house, putting away your jacket and bag, fishing the soap out of the latter and placing it on the bathroom shelf. It makes you pause for a moment. You give a nod to yourself at the sight of the refilled container and make a silent vow to treat yourself to a nice bath today.

An hour later, your stomach is filled with warm pasta, the bathroom damp with steam and your hair soft, smelling just the way you like it. The clock in the small hallway reminds you that it's already past twelve and the knowledge that tomorrow is another day filled with teaching makes you want to crawl into bed fairly quickly. But you're thirsty.

Lane is still in the kitchen, her blue hair a little messy and crowned with a pair of headphones. The music spills out a bit, enough for you to be able to hear the low, steady humming of a song that seems mildly familiar.

You do remember a few songs from before the Outbreak- mainly the ones they played on the radio. But you know that Lane doesn’t, being a few years younger than you, meaning that she barely has any memories of the before.

You're already in your pajamas, shuffling to the sink to pour yourself a glass of water. Somehow it always tastes better at night. Or maybe your brain is playing tricks on you.

“Hey, you remember Joel is coming over for dinner on Sunday, right?” you ask with your back to your friend. When no response comes, you gulp down the last bit of water and turn around, giving a small wave in the air between you. 

Lane sits up a little more, pushing one side of her headphones back just enough to free her ear. “Hm?”

“Dinner with Joel, Sunday,” you repeat, a yawn escaping you. 

After a moment, she nods. “Right, I remember. We’re out of blueberries again, by the way.”

“I’ll make sure to restock this weekend then,” you agree, already halfway across the room. You give another small wave and finally head to bed. It looks exactly the same way you left it this morning, the blanket tucked into one side, the pillows arranged against the headboard.

“It's so good to be home,” you mutter to yourself as you crawl under the covers, stretching your body a little. Your left hand reaches for your nightstand and finds the book you've been reading, hoping to get just a tiny bit further tonight. With all the work and the winter festival coming up, you’ve barely made progress, the wooden bookmark still sitting near the front. You put it aside, glancing down at the finely carved piece of woodwork for a moment. Joel gave it to you for your first birthday in Jackson. Then you open the book properly, the worn-out spine cracking slightly. Just a couple of minutes.

But your eyes start to droop after just a few pages. After half a chapter, you're in a deep slumber, the book slipping out of your hands and onto the wooden floor below just as the front door slips shut.

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[unhappy-last-resort]

Delusions (Yandere Simon x GN Reader)

Warnings: smut, worship of the readers body and reader in general, creampie, GN reader, short

A/N: Just a drabble because I was thinking of Simon as one does late night. I'm also waiting for server reset in PGR so I can decide if I wanna pull on the light trails banner or not.

Apologies for any grammar/spelling issues and what not, it's almost 2AM for me

Your soft pants filled his bedroom, your chest rising and falling with each breath, his arms holding your hips flush to his.

Nothing could compare to this moment. You were absolutely divine, a gift from the gods, a blessing to humanity bestowed by the stars, and you, despite being so far beyond him that he could only watch your star trail in awe, you chose him. You chose him over the numerous, beautiful and heroic constructs and humans who stood by your side.

It made him shudder, his eyes almost rolling at the thought. How could anyone not desire you? Who wouldn't lust after such an incredible hero? Just look at yourself. The way you move your body underneath him, the stretch marks along your thighs, your swollen lips parted in ecstasy, your glossy eyes, your mesmerizing voice as you moan so sweetly for him.

He couldn't help but kiss every inch of you he could, studying you like a piece of art. He kissed each scar he could see, admiring them. Perhaps others might find your scars to be blemishes that needed to be hidden, or fixed, but to him they were breathtaking. Not necessarily because he thought the scars were beautiful, but because they gave him insights into you and your story. You don't talk much about your past, not that there was reason to, but still, he longed to know you more intimately than you knew yourself. If only you'd open yourself to him, if only he could climb to your stardom and share the burden with you.

Perhaps if he lulled you to orgasm enough times you would be relaxed enough to let him know you more. He kissed your neck and whispered his admiration of you into your skin as he gently fucked you, holding you closely to him, becoming so engrossed your moans and cries that he nearly forgets his own pleasure.

He could stay like this forever, listening to you whisper his name as you grind against him. He holds your face gently, drinking in your expressions. Each cry you make resonating in his heart and rippling through his mind, overshadowing every other thought and sensation until only you existed.

He would never stop chasing after you, never stop longing for your attention and recognition, he would never stop desiring a level of intimacy that would only belong to you two. He needed your acknowledgement of his efforts and devotion, he needed to hear you say you loved him just as much as he loved you, maybe even more. He needed you to love him back, he needed your attention, he needed you to look at him as something more than a friend. His desires driving him to push in and out of you faster and faster until you writhed and trembled, until his hips stuttered and the tight cord drawn in his stomach snapped as he babbled your name like it was his salvation.

As his hips slow down, you wrap your arms around him and bestow him a kiss filled with so much love he feels himself melt into your body like it was made to hold him.

"Simon..." You whisper breathlessly and his breath is caught in his throat. Your hand cups his cheek and leans into it, kissing down along your wrist reverently.

You watch him lovingly, letting him worship you. Your eyes meet and his heart soars, you look so bewitching like this the sight burns itself into his brain. Slowly, your lips part and he desperately waits for what you're about to say, hoping that you'll tell him those three words he longs to hear. He watches every slight movement you make, enraptured as he watches you swallow, debating whether you should say what's on your mind or not and he gives your hand a slight squeeze of encouragement.

That seems to give you the push you need as you focus on him again and his heart pounds in his chest as he leans in closer to you, needing to hear every word you're about to say.

"Simon, I-"

.

.

.

.

He wakes up, his hair sticking to his skin and the sheets unbearably hot. Simon stares at the ceiling, seeing nothing but blurry shapes as he contemplates what just happened. Humiliation crushes his chest as the stickiness in his hand makes him realize that it was just an intense fantasy and nothing more. He feels like a teenager helplessly pining after a crush and it almost makes him cry.

It was foolish for him to ever think that you could be his, that you'd ever spare him more than a cursory glance and a few words. You may have never said it out loud, but he knows he's beneath you. Someone your caliber would never look his way, but he can't help but keep chasing after that hope, after that dream that one day, one day you might look at him with something more than friendly comradery.

...He should stop entertaining such ridiculous and inappropriate thoughts about you and wash his hands, probably change his sheets too. If you saw him like this, you would be appalled. Shocked that a fellow soldier could be so...so unprofessional. He's already embarrassed himself a few times in front of you, he needs to be better. He needs to improve.

You'll never give him the attention he desires, so he must do what he can to earn it and treat what little you give him with the utmost care and respect.

He needs you, he needs your love and acknowledgement and he'll do whatever it takes to get it. Even if that means sacrificing everything he has.

[wileys-russo]

Alessia and reader are in a relationship and come into training arguing about something that the team can’t figure out

When asked reader simply replies with “I’m NOT a passenger princess”

(Bc let’s be honest, Less won’t anyone drive her merc)

this is so funny lmao

passenger princess II a.russo

"you are unbelievable!" you scoffed as alessia pulled into her spot, your seatbelt off before she even put the car in park, opening the door and storming out.

"oh yeah? well you are immature!" alessia countered as she slid out of the drivers seat, the obvious anger in both of your voices catching your team mates attention who'd pulled in just before you, turning around and watching on with a frown.

"don't speak to me today." you warned, snatching your kit bag from the back seat and making a point to slam your girlfriends car door before marching off. "don't slam my fucking doors!" alessia shouted after you, nostrils flaring as she continued to mutter angrily under her breath.

lotte and katie sharing a look they both nodded, lotte falling back to check in with alessia as katie slung an arm over your shoulder halting you in your tracks as you charged past her.

"hey now hothead, whats with all the shouting then?" katie asked with a frown, walking the two of you inside as you glanced over your shoulder, seeing alessia gesture her hands around wildly clearly venting to lotte who nodded on.

"doesn't matter." you grumbled, shrugging her arm off of you and disappearing into the training centre, katie whistling after you and muttering something about trouble in paradise before following you inside.

~

the obvious tension between you and alessia was anything but subtle as you slammed down the medicine ball time after time, earphones in and blocking out the world. many of your team mates had tried to console you or get to the bottom of it but you'd just shake your head and brush them off, mumbling you were fine and moving onto your next set.

alessia would look over to you with a glare every few minutes, lotte keeping a careful eye on her as the girl continued to add extra weight onto her bench press, having given up warning her against it when she repeatedly refused to listen.

no one had been successful in getting anything out of the blonde gunner either, alessia also only grumbling that she was fine with a cold stare sent your way before commencing a new rep.

"what are we gonna do with them?" beth sighed, crossing her arms over her chest as she stood with katie, leah and viv, watching as the two of you locked gazes and you flipped alessia off, causing the older girl to shake her head with a scoff, eyes only narrowing into a filthy look as she muttered angrily under her breath.

"give em some gloves and put them in the ring?" katie offered with a shrug, viv smacking her over the back of the head at the suggestion. "what! couple of punches, some light wrestling, get the aggression all out of their bodies and they'll be back to themselves in no time." katie stood by it, viv only shaking her head and mumbling this was why katie was single as the woman gasped.

"vivianne!" "what? if this is your idea of a conflict resolution then you will never get another girlfriend." "what you're telling me you don't ever wanna give meado a smack around?" "...I didn't say that." "vivianne!" beth gasped now, the dutch simply smiling in response.

"we move onto the pitch next, maybe that'll help them settle?" beth sighed as the trainer blew his whistle, announcing you'd all have a break for lunch and were expected outside again at 2pm.

"woah now sunshine, not so fast." leah grabbed the back of your top as you tried to jet away to a free table once you had your food, practically dragging you to sit down with her.

"leah!" you whined as the older girl moved away your food, smacking your hand as you tried to snatch it back. "no explanation for the moodiness, no lunch." your captain shrugged, ignoring the daggers you sent her way at her words.

having played alongside leah for years now both for club and country the blonde had become somewhat of an older sister figure to you. "fine! i'm not hungry anyway." you huffed, folding your arms and resting them on the cafeteria table, leaning your chin on top as you felt someone else sit next to you.

"why aren't you eating?" lia asked softly as you glanced toward her, eyes filled with concern. "leah won't let me." you grumbled, the blonde scoffing beside you as lia shot her a glare and grabbed your tray of food back, sliding it toward you and tutting at her work wife who tried to intervene.

sending the defender beside you a smug smile you leant your head on lias shoulder making small talk with her, grateful that someone wasn't trying to push you to talk about whatever had happened with alessia this morning.

"lotte i'm not sitting with-" alessias words fell short as her friend pushed her down into the seat across from you, hands on her shoulders as your girlfriend tried to stand to leave, caitlin quickly sitting down in the seat beside her.

"can the two of you please just settle whatever this is like adults?" lotte sat on her other side, looking between the two of you with a firm look as you swallowed your mouthful of food and pushed your tray away, appetite now gone.

"girls please don't both talk at once." caitlin tried to joke to lighten the mood, but it fell flat as you and alessia engaged in what had to be your tenth silent stand off of the day, glaring one another down wordlessly as alessia picked at her food.

"can one of you at least tell us what this is about?" leah groaned, dragging her hands down her face, frustrated at the stubbornness from the younger girls.

but before anything else could be taken any further the clock struck five to two and lia's phone pinged with an alarm, warning all the girls they needed to finish up and head back to the pitch.

not awaiting an invitation you were up and out of your seat first, grabbing your tray and marching away from the table. "less?" leahs eyes practically begged for an explanation as the blonde huffed and shook her head, shrugging off lottes hand and following after you toward the pitch.

"you know what, i'm slowly beginning to agree with katies idea."

~

unlike the rest of your friends hoped, things did not settle once you were all back on the pitch, you and alessia only ignoring one another bar from the occasional snappy comment when paired together for drills.

it was nearing the end of the session and you were playing a 5 a side game, switching out which team was playing which, the entire squad split into 5 teams.

normally one of the more focused members of the team, today you were anything but, head too torn between wanting to rip alessias head off and how much you just wanted to settle things and be back in her arms.

and this lack of focus lead to your face being on the receiving end of a particularly fierce strike from caitlin, the ball bouncing off your nose as you fell down to the pitch with a cry of pain, feeling a hot liquid start to drip down your chin.

"holy shit i am so sorry!" the australian was by your side instantly, eyes wide as you quickly assured her it wasn't her fault and you should have seen the ball coming and ducked out of the way.

"is it bad?" you winced as the medic arrived and poked softy at your nose, gently shooing away the other girls and helping you sit up. "we'll have to wait until it stops bleeding to properly assess it.

your girlfriend was of course near by, hovering anxiously around as she crossed her arms over her chest and fought the urge to rush in and comfort you, giving the medic the time and space to asses the injury.

"go on! she's still your missus, don't let a stupid argument stop you looking after her." katie knocked her shoulder into alessia as you were walked off the pitch, leah and steph following after you as you disappeared inside the training centre.

with a nod alessia was off after you, katie rolling her eyes before turning to chat with lotte.

~

"is it broken?" you asked for the tenth time, the medic sighing and once again repeating she was waiting for the specialist to come and assess you, as his opinion would be far more accurate than her own.

with a loud groan you leant back against the wall, swinging your legs to and fro impatiently. "when will he be here?" you asked again as leah pinched the bridge of her nose to stop from snapping, steph rubbing your shoulder comfortingly and murmuring you'd already been given an answer to that question.

you perked up as the door opened, however your body deflated as alessia stepped inside, luckily followed right afterwards by the specialist as she sat down beside steph who'd moved away from your side so you could be assessed.

"is it broken?" you asked impatiently as you leant your head back at the mans request.

"for the love of god please give her answer before i actually break her nose for asking over and over again." leah grumbled, you shooting her a filthy look as the specialist chuckled, assuring you it wasn't broken and you'd just need a few days off to let the swelling go down without the risk of a knock, which could lead to it being broken.

nodding at his instructions you thanked him and pressed the ice pack back to your face as the medic left to speak with jonas about the outcome. "have you come to apologize then?" you asked your girlfriend with narrowed eyes who scoffed.

"no! because i was right, so i therefore have nothing to be sorry for." alessia shook her head, leah and steph exchanging a look as the door opened and beth, katie and lotte entered, the irishwoman dropping your packed up kit at your feet for you.

"you were not right! god you're so stubborn alessia." you groaned, throwing the ice pack on the seat next to you. "i'm stubborn!?" alessia exclaimed, throwing her hands up as she rolled her eyes.

"okay enough! what on earth are the two of you so wound up about? neither of you are leaving till we get to the bottom of this." leah ordered firmly, katie moving to block the door at her words.

"she said i'm a passenger princess, i am not a passenger princess!" you shouted, eyebrows knitting into a deep frown as you tucked your knees up to your chest, shooting your girlfriend a glare.

"yes you are, i drive you everywhere! but i didn't even say it was a bad thing." alessia argued standing to her feet, your friends looking on in disbelief that this tiny miniscule comment was what caused your ongoing row today.

"are the two of you havin a fucking laugh? that was what you're arguing for?" katie spoke for everyone, looking between the couple with shocked eyes.

"you only drive me everywhere because you won't let me drive the mercedes!" you huffed as alessia threw her head back with a loud groan. "my mercedes, i don't let you drive my mercedes." the blonde corrected as your team mates gave up, grabbing their things and filing out of the room, muttering under their breath to one another how ridiculous the two of you were.

"i am not a passenger princess alessia, take it back." you demanded with a harsh scowl, the blonde taking a few steps toward you. "no. i like that you're a passenger princess because i enjoy driving you around. why does it have to be a bad thing?" alessia stood now right in front of you, raising an eyebrow curiously as you struggled to think of a reason.

"see? now stop being such a baby, i'm driving us home." alessia grabbed your kit bag for you, shutting down your protests you could take it yourself with a single look, extending you her hand.

"can you at least teach me how to drive it? what if you fell down the stairs and broke your leg and i had to drive you to hospital?" you accepted her hand, jumping down from the assessment table as the two of you made your way out of the training centre and toward the parking lot, the rest of your team already gone for the day.

"no need, i'd call an ambulance." alessia chuckled, the two of you now seemingly right back to normal as the taller girl rummaged around in her pockets for the keys. "looking for these?" you asked with a smug smile, holding up the keys which you'd swiped from her pocket as the two of you walked here.

"don't even try it." alessia warned with a shake of her head, pulling your smaller frame into hers as she pressed you against the side of the car when you tried to run off, easily plucking the keys from your hand.

"i'm buying a car then." you stated firmly, alessia shaking her head as she moved in closer, her mouth just ghosting yours. "no you're not."

"you're not the boss of me." you resisted the urge to smile as the striker toyed with the bottom of your training top. "yes i am." the blonde grinned, pressing a few loving kisses to your lips and pushing herself off of you, opening your door for you as you slid into the car with a playful roll of your eyes.

as alessia sat down in her own seat and pulled her door shut her body locked up as she turned and your mouth suddenly pressed to hers, taking her surprise to your advantage and slipping your tongue into her mouth.

but before anything could be taken further your lips were gone and you settled back into your seat, clipping your belt in and plugging your phone in to select some music, alessias head spinning slightly from the dizzying kiss you'd just rewarded her with.

"lets not forget baby, the passenger princess is always the boss."

[paintyoureyeswithavividmind]

close to home | chapter one

close to home | chapter one

plot: a nice introductory to the reader and a sense of who she is

series masterlist

Pairing: Eventual Daryl Dixon x f!reader Word Count: 1,287 Warnings: violence, blood A/N: thanks for checking out the first chapter! Just a nice quick introduction to the character :)

You’d woken to the sound of something thumping against the wood floor of your home and the loud meow of Tora. She’d taken it upon herself to catch breakfast for the two of you, a fat squirrel. After the unexpected meal the two of you shared, you knew what needed to be done. Today was run day. And you were out of water. 

So you geared up, an empty gray canvas pack on your shoulders, your one good gun strapped around your leg, a machete at your waist, and a few other knives hidden around your body. You were always prepared. 

The morning spring bite nipped at your cheeks when you stepped outside the tiny home. Your eyes scanned the ground below for any signs of the dead, and you listened for the rustling leaves of footsteps. But there was nothing. You were safe for now. 

It was easier climbing down the tree than up, though Tora made it look relatively easy. But you weren’t lucky enough to have claws to help you, so climbing down the rope was your only option. 

The rope slid easily enough through your leather glovelettes and soon your boots hit the ground. Tora was waiting for you, sitting by the main tree trunk holding your home. 

“Yeah, yeah,” You said to the cat, “Let’s go find water before we die of thirst, huh?” You said to the cat. 

It was silent as you walked towards the lake four miles from your home. The sky above you was full of puffy white clouds, and the trees around you kept you mainly in the shade. A few birds sang above in the treeline, and every so often, Tora chased a squirrel up the tree. By the time you reached the lake, you had two hanging from your belt, and the day was warming up. 

Licking the sweat off your upper lip, your knelt by the water’s edge and started filling up the empty plastic water bottles you had. Tora splashed around in the muddy, sandy mix of the lakeshore and chirped at the little fish that darted away from her. 

You chuckled to yourself and moved on to another bottle. The sun was now at the midpoint in the sky, and you scolded yourself for taking so long to get to the lake. The Georgia heat this spring seemed unforgivable, as if whatever God that sent this plague was sending another sick joke. The idea of summer being around the corner kept you up at night. You hated the heat. 

Just as the fourth bottle was filled, a branch snapped at the tree line. Then came the familiar moaning, and you looked up in time to see two deads headed your way. Tora hissed at the sight of them and darted toward the nearest tree. 

“Good girl, Tora,” You said, screwing the bottle shot and standing. It thudded to the ground, and you grabbed the machete and twirled it once in your hand. Your eyes darted between the dead as you worked out a plan. 

They were moving slowly, no doubt cause of the heat and decaying parts of their body. But still, they were persistent. The closest one attacked first, and you ducked, bending around its outreached arms and kicking it to the ground, just in time for the other one to reach you. Your machete hit the skull first, and the body dropped, giving you a second to pull it out.

Blood speckled your face like freckles as you turned and grabbed the last dead one by the throat. Its arms reached out to hold you, but you quickly ended it before it ended you. Its body joined its partner on the grass, and you flicked the machete before stabbing it into the ground, cleaning the blood off. 

You whistled a three-note tune and heard Tora meowing. The Maine coon cat was among the most intelligent animals you’d ever trained. 

“Come on, baby,” You said, “The day is just getting started.”

***

If your watch was correct, it was nearing four in the afternoon. This meant you had about four hours until sunset and were a long way from home. After the lake, you took the familiar southern trail to a small state park. A few abandoned RVs that you’d picked clean weeks ago told you that you were very close to a small town that was mostly deserted. 

You whipped the seat off your forehead as you approached one of the first buildings you’d have the courage to check out. It was a town hall building with nothing good except a few dead bodies. Apparently, small-town governments weren’t on the top evacuation lists. 

Tora trotted alongside you, her head just below your knee, and her hair matted from today’s journey. You’d have to brush it out for her when you return home. 

You ignored the town hall building and walked through the town's main street. It was utterly silent, save for the scuff of your boots and your cat's occasional meow or hiss. 

“Okay, last time we were here, we checked out the library,” You said to the cat, “I think we should check out the corner store next. Odds were that it’s been picked clean already, but it wouldn’t hurt to check. I also am going to need summer clothes….” You trailed off as you shielded your eyes from the sun. The morning clouds had grown darker, but the hot sun still managed to peak out. You heard some thunder in the distance but couldn’t tell how far or where it was coming from.

“If we need to make camp tonight, we can go to the library,” You said. You’d had to spend the night in the town several times, and the library was the safest place to get to. It was easy to climb to, and Tora was familiar with it. 

The corner store had a few things you could scavenge; a few Tylenol travel packets, some jerky you found underneath the shelves, and an assortment of lights and matchbooks. Tora even found something; the broken shopkeeper bell. 

Still, there was nothing you really needed. There was no ammo or water. Those were your top priorities. 

You checked a few other small shops; a gunshop, nothing, a bank, for the hell of it, and then finally a thrift store, where you found plenty of clothes. You took your time going through the section, trying to weigh out what was best for the summer heat. You needed to keep cool, but you needed to be protected. You found a couple shirts and shorts, new undergarments and socks. Your bag was filled to the brim, and you knew it was time to head back. 

“Crap,” You muttered when you walked back to the front door. Tora meowed in her own disapproving way. 

The sudden downpour and oncoming thunderstorm would keep you there tonight. Tora wouldn’t venture into the rain unless absolutely necessary, and you felt the same way. 

“At least we found some jerky,” You said. 

It wasn’t hard to build up a makeshift camp in the building. Dozens of once-donated blankets provided ample bedding for you and Tora, and there were enough books to get a small fire going in the back of the building. With only four bottles of water, you took ample care of gutting and cleaning a squirrel for dinner for the two of you. It wasn’t long before you put the fire out and settled in for the night. 

[angelwhisp3rs]

⍣ ೋ star crossed

Pairing: RE4!Leon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Two lovers, destined to not be together all across history

Tags: fluff; angst, a little gory (not descriptive! but tragedies happen); there is a happy ending (i'd kms if it didnt); they just suffer a lot

Notes: imagined that as i listened to a disney songs playlist, and i couldnt hold myself back. This was a little different for me, so any feedback is welcomed (pls be kind ill cry)

Rome, 456.

As the moon reached the sky, shining upon the stars, Empress Serena gave birth to a beautiful baby boy, the future of the Roman Empire: little Leo. He grew to be strong and dashing, a dignified heir to such a impotent throne.

Unfortunately, the royal life proved to be unforgiving with so many obligations, and the certainty that no matter what he did, it would never be enough. 

As the empire went through a rough patch, so did his relationship with the townsfolk - whenever he believed he was doing something helpful, the critics were always the first ones to prove otherwise. 

In a particular evening, an old lady in one of the poorest villages stomped into the castle, and pointed directly at Leo as he sat in his throne, sending a powerful spell on his way: “Your actions ought to be punished for all of your existence, and as long as you live, your heart shall never be free! For all eternity, like the sun and moon, your heart won't be complete!”

With the heavy words, she was escorted away from the palace, as Leo's heart felt heavy. She must be just some crazed lady.

Oh, how wrong he was.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

Through his traveling and diplomatic affairs, Leo met a bright woman in Egypt. Her eyes shined like the brightest constellation in the sky, her wits were unmatched, and her body could lure even the blind. To say he fell in love was an understatement.

“On another visit?” she asked him as they met, her eyebrow arched.

“Egypt is quite successful these days. I can’t miss on opportunities” Leo answered with a knowing smirk, the back of his fingers caressing her jaw.

She looked up at him, her eyes sincere in her feelings as his touch was very welcomed “Opportunities or people?”

“I think you know the answer.” he said quietly, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Their shared moments would be forever marked in his mind, appreciative that he could be the man he was with her, not Rome's Emperor. 

After deciding that she was the only one he ever wanted to marry, they met up in a nice flower camp, as he planned to ask for her forever on the same day. 

As they reached the designated place, Leo managed to get on one knee and pour his heart out to her. When he made the important question, as she was about to answer it, raiders invaded Egypt in a surprise attack, and before she could even say “yes”, the clan leader sliced through her heart, making her fall down and soon Leo followed, throat sliced open by another member. 

As life drained from their bodies, they looked at each other as they bled, their hands touching as they said their last goodbyes.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

France, 1789

Leonidas fought against the imbalance that happened between the poorest and royals. The people were tired of poverty, brought by the dumb decisions of the French Monarchy.

As he disseminated his knowledge and beliefs, a royal carriage passed through, with the Princess inside it. She and Leonidas locked their eyes, and a shiver ran through their bodies. 

The monarchs always had empty eyes, but hers was so alive. She gave him a gentle passing smile - even if he was criticizing her existence, making his heart beat fast.

Whenever royal gatherings happened, Leonidas and his followers were the first ones there protesting. The only one who ever dared to meet them and talk was her. It was bad - his heart throbbed whenever she spoke, her voice acting like a sweet melody to him.

“Another one of your hate campaigns, Leonidas?” she asked, smirking, fanning her painted face with a luxurious fan.

“Just fighting for my people and myself” he answered in a dignified voice, his eyes not breaking eye contact with her.

“Just fighting? If you keep following me I might as well think your objectives involve me, but not as in a revolutionary sense” she winked, hiding her face behind the pink fan.

“Don’t even waste your time thinking about false pretenses” he smirked back, pulling her fan down as he watched her pretty features, all worthy of a Princess.

It was satirical - the biggest fighter against her family was the one who managed to catch her heart. She was usually the quickest one to brush off suitors, but the rebellion leader caught her heart, and she didn't want him to let go.

When Leonidas was finally ready to act on his feelings, the fall of the Bastille happened, and soon did the fall of the monarchy. As a punishment, all were to be beheaded in a public gathering, their heads thrown around to celebrate France’s new beginning.

As she was guided to the guillotine, her eyes locked in his as the blade sliced her, a lonely tear running on her cheeks. 

Leonidas, at that moment, felt hollow and empty, wondering what he did to deserve such feeling.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

Italy, 1944

The war was at its peak, causing pain and destruction anywhere it passed by. Lionel fought bravely battle after battle, trying his hardest to stay safe at least till this he'll was over. 

The highlight among all that destruction was the newest nurse, hair always in carefully made curls, and lips adorned in the most lovely shades as she tended every soldier with care.

Whenever he laid on the infirmary in her care, she always spent the longest on him, sharing heartfelt comments and small jokes, hoping to bring a smile to his serious face. Also, she chose not to mention that his heartbeat was always fast with her - they were in a war after all, they had more serious matters to pay attention to.

“Although it makes me happy to see you, it pains my heart that it needs to involve your pain” she said softly, holding his hand with one of her hands as the other one cleaned his wound.

“I’m tough, if I could I would bruise myself completely to be under your care for days” Lionel answered with a whimper as she hit a soft spot.

“Don’t you ever think about that! I need you in one piece, so we ought to live our lives together, in happiness, after all this tragedy ends” she said in a hopeful tone, pressing a kiss to his skin.

“Do you promise me a nice house and delicious dinners?” he asked playfully, an endearing smile not leaving his face

“Better. I promise you a home” she answered quietly, moving away to tend another soldier's wounds.

After a German attack in a secluded village, the soldiers could only try to pray for any survivors - the attack was brutal. The houses were on the ground, some toys and furniture disorganized all over the place, a gray feeling hanging around their heads.

When the troop was ready to leave, Lionel heard a quiet sound under some rubble, calling his colleagues to check it out. Working their way to the sound, an old lady was buried underneath it, breathing with difficulty.

Lionel didn't think twice and fought to work her out of there, but when she was at his hold, it was already too late. On her last breath, she pressed a palm to his face and whispered “son… It's already late for this life, but I banish the dark hold in your destiny. After so much suffering, your hearts deserve happiness” and with that, she was gone.

Lionel cried, so tired with all the tragedy and death around him, he didn't really understand what she meant, but laid her body in respect and moved forward.

Sadly, no one could predict a blitzkrieg, and one that hit exactly where they moved, and also so near their base - their safety. Lionel was unfortunately one of the victims, the bomb hitting near his body.

The last thing he could comprehend was his body being moved as the pretty nurse moved desperately to save him, crying as she held his body and he finally let go, thinking of their home.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

USA, 2023

Leon was sore after returning from another mission - one that could be considered a suicide one, but he wasn't that lucky to finally be able to rest peacefully.

He threw his body on his couch, but soon stood up and grunted as he reminded himself that he promised to go to an art exhibition with Claire and Chris, a piece of normalcy in a word reeking with monsters and nightmares.

How Claire managed to get Chris to come to a thing like that? Only God knows, but it would be a welcomed company amongst the bullshit that the art world revolves around.

As they reached the gallery, packed with artists, critics and obnoxious people who saw art in a dot of paint, Claire looked in glee at all the art pieces as Leon and her brother played a game of “blind or high?”, where they tried to guess if the artist was blind while making the piece or just purely high on whatever drug Umbrella passed along the streets to control people.

As they looked at the pieces, Claire stopped specifically at a painting of a couple sitting on a field, a picnic towel underneath them as the sky was purple, with the sun setting down and the moon reaching up. There were some children playing in the background, but much couldn’t be said, as they were mere shadows.

Leon looked at the painting puzzled, something in the art making his heart ache and long for, but he had no idea why. While Chris just whispered a “oh, definitely high” at him, he couldn't answer. The sight felt so familiar, but so painful, that he wanted to cry. Maybe fighting monsters and almost dying everyday was finally getting him.

A lady stopped in front of that painting, and looked at Leon with a witty smile and sparkly eyes “what do you see?”

As he looked at her, it was like the world stopped. She was just an unknown woman, but something felt so familiar in her. His heart was screaming for him to hug and kiss her, and Leon didn't know if he finally went insane or he was just deprived of affection (maybe both, but he didn't want to put a lot of thought into it).

Her hair matched her face perfectly, her makeup was minimal, contrasting with the red lipstick on her inviting lips. Her clothing molded perfectly into her pretty body, and he had to hold himself back from looking at her for too long.

With a deep sigh, he truthfully told her “I'm not good with art… but I think they look like a couple in love. A family, even. Maybe enjoying a picnic on a Sunday” he answered the stranger, holding back a blush.

Claire slapped him, embarrassed “you just described the painting you idiot, she meant more profoundly!”

The lady giggled, making Leon forget how to breathe for a second. She shakes her head and adds “no, I liked his observation. It looks like a dream Sunday, in my opinion” She winked at Leon

Still fighting a blush, he teased back “Okay then, Picasso, what do you see?”

The woman took a long breath and looked at the painting again “I see pain, but also hope. It feels like broken hearts being brought together. Kinda poetic.”

Leon could only look at her and smile, as she did the same. Pain and love. Leon could understand those feelings mixed together.

As they kept talking and walking through the gallery together, they failed to see the owner of the painting, an old woman who watched them with a smirk. 

She turned to her assistant and said “Isn't destiny a funny thing? I guess I have to watch closely for inspiration for my next pieces, I've never gotten the full story before.”

The assistant looked at the artist in confusion, but didn't press the matter. The only thing she could think was: “Guess all the best artists are crazy people.”

[priniya]

JEALOUSY !

sumarry: tsukishima gets extremely jealous when a certain outside hitter tries to hit on you, unbeknownst to him – you’re already taken and your boyfriend doesn’t like sharing.

notes: tsukishima kei x reader, jealous type of boyfriend, also a brief moment of iwaizumi hajime x reader. also reader is way shorter than kei, but if you’re tall just skip the part. also not proofread.

word count: 1.3k

kei didn’t want to be at the party in the first place. he has been a more introverted kind of person throughout his whole life, and changing it wasn’t even a thing in his mind. but you asked him to be there. and there was nothing that could make tsukishima refuse you. you were the only one occupying the boy’s brain all the time anyway.

so when he agreed to your idea, you promised to send him the address and smiled delightedly. it would be your first social event since you started dating a few weeks ago. and since you two attended different schools, no one besides yamaguchi and kageyama knew.

it was definitely a sweet thing, enjoying each other’s presence without being forced to hear mean comments how you two didn’t fit together or something else that would’ve just got on your nerves and the boy would have to calm you before you threw hands on someone.

before tsukishima got to the house of your classmate, you had already been there, dropped off by your mom, who wanted to be sure of your location. a quick promise to be walked home by someone was said and you were free, waiting on your boyfriend.

me: text me when you get here and i’ll find you somewhere

the house was filled with seijoh students from different years and classes. you could recognize most of them, as you weren’t really someone new there. tōru oikawa, the school’s star, standing next to matsukawa and hamaki somewhere nearby the staircase, tanjiro from the basketball team was talking to a girl from a year above while a third year was talking to someone you couldn’t see.

the heavy scent of alcohol mixed with smoke itched your nostrils, and you grimaced as you entered the kitchen, accidentally bumping into someone.

“hey, you’re alright?” a familiar voice spoke out, his hands on your arms to prevent you from falling. “l/n-san, nice to see you here.” with that words said, you realized it was iwaizumi hajime who you were talking to.

“don’t say you didn’t expect me to be here, iwaizumi-san.” you laughed, moving to be closer to the counter, pouring yourself a drink. you could feel his eyes tracing around your body, as if the ace tried to remember your curves like it was the last time you see each other. unfortunately for iwaizumi, you were too oblivious to catch a sign. “what you’re looking at?”

“uh-” he stuttered, flushing like a tomato. “your dress. it brings out your curves, you look gorgeous.” hajime added after a minute, bringing his eyes up to your face.

you looked more than just gorgeous, you looked ethereal. with the perfect, black eyeliner on your eyelids with an eyeshadow that fitted your eye colour. and oh my god the dress. you wore a tight, backless, black dress with a split on your left thigh (your mom wasn’t too pleased about it tho).

it was the first time you dressed like that to a friday party, always wearing cargo pants and tank tops with a zipper hoodie you once stole from tobio. your boyfriend was the reason why you dressed like that, you wanted to see him breathless, happy having a girlfriend that hot.

“thank you.” a soft smile spread over your mouth as you took a sip of your drink. “is there any occasion? wanna catch somebody’s eye?” the boy asked, his eyes not leaving your lips.

“actually… yes.” you laughed at the sound of your reply, and leaned your back on the counter behind you. iwaizumi swore he could feel his heart skip a beat upon hearing your words. he knew you had a long time crush on him in the junior high, and now he felt like the heavens finally gave him a chance.

“hey, uh. i’ve been meaning to ask you this for a while now.” he began, getting a little closer to you. “wouldn’t you like to go out somewhere next sunday? like on a date.”

that’s when you connected the dots and froze. he thought you were talking about him. out of all people, it had to be hajime that you bumped in. gosh. you chugged down your drink before revealing you’re in a happy relationship, but eventually it wasn’t you who said that.

“maybe in two weeks? she’s already going out with her boyfriend on that sunday.” kei, who walked to the two of you out of sudden, remarked harshly, wrapping an arm around your waist. pulling you away from the ace, gently but swiftly.

“oh.” was the only thing that came from hajime.

tsukishima didn’t need to hear any more, pushing the respect for his seniors aside in his mind, he took your hand in his and walked out of the kitchen. and when normally he wasn’t the one to show any affection in public, then that day was an exception. maybe for the extreme jealousy he felt rushing in his veins when he noticed you with hajime and especially after hearing how he tried to ask you out.

and before you could even realize, his lips crushed into yours passionately. in public, so everyone from your school could see it and not hit on you anymore. after a few moments, you would just drag your boyfriend into an empty room, right. a rush of adrenaline must have got to him when he sat you down on a drawer, so the kisses would be more comfortable for both of you since the height difference.

he pulled away for a second, cupping your cheek with his hand and aside from melting under his soft touch, you melted even more after seeing how kei smiled at you. “you don’t even know how much i love you.” he empathized. “i don’t even know if i ever felt something like that towards anyone else. if someone ever had me choosing between something and you, i’d always choose you.”

tsukishima’s words destroyed you. it wasn’t anything bad, obviously, but it was the third time he spoke up about his feelings towards you, the first happened when you misunderstood his intention and thought of your first-date as a casual, friends hangout, the second when he confessed he likes you in a way he doesn’t like anyone else and now… he dropped the L-bomb. your boyfriend has never been the type of someone who’s fond of his words, and expressing emotions was hard for him as well. you felt your eyes watering, and thank god that you chose waterproof mascara.

“did i say something wrong…?” he was confused by your reaction, he knew you so well, yet he couldn’t tell why his girlfriend was crying in the first place. you immediately shook your head and by pulling in the fabric of his collar, you kissed him again. hands on the back of his neck, rubbing it gently, while his wandered around the length of your thighs.

“i love you” you spoke out as he pressed his forehead to yours. you could feel his body loosen up upon hearing your confession. “and there’s never gonna be anyone better for me than you.”

“next thing, me, you in that dress and a dinner at my house together on sunday?” he smiled at you, caressing soft circles on your leg. “and then afterwards, me, you in my hoodie and whatever movie you wanna watch.”

“i don’t know if i’m free, baby. gotta stand in line.” you chuckled as tsukishima rolled his eyes. “hmm, but if you say i get to keep the hoodie, then i can cancel some guys.”

“it’s not like you wouldn’t keep it anyway.”

(another part of tsukishima x seijoh!reader, here)

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

Yin and Yang Pt. 3

Pairing: Ben Tennyson x Reader

Warnings: Torture

Word Count: 3.0k words

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

A/N: If I'm being completely honest, I'm not feeling that satisfied with this oneshot but it's completely fine. Part 1 of Y&Y was a oneshot that I really put a lot of effort into writing but part 2 and 3 were kind of just self-indulgent strike of the moment passion fics which I shouldn't be finding guilty about. But anyway I still hope you guys enjoy it. Hopefully I will be writing a part 4 because I just love their dynamic so much in this series even though Ben is very OOC lmao.

You crouched down behind a stack of crates, plasma gun clutched tightly in your hand and ducked your head forward, only to be met with a wall directly in your line of vision.

Turning your neck, you made eye contact with the plumber across from you, hidden behind a pillar and held out your hand, asking him in sign if he was able to count the number of victims and criminals.

This mission was one that your squad had been working on for 4 months. A huge trafficking ring that you had managed to track onto their Megacruiser Spaceship.

Most of your squad had been caught up in the hull, fighting off soldiers and freeing the victims while you and another proctor made your way to the front of the ship.

You had already disabled the escape pods on the ship so if they wanted to escape they'd be heading for the docking bay to find a small ship to board.

Proctor Drax held 5 fingers up and then 8 and you sighed; 5 hostages and 8 captors. There was no way the two of you would be able to take all of them down while protecting the hostages.

You pressed down on your plumbers badge, signaling the rest of your squad that you'd require some backup.

You lost hope however, when they began to approach the ship. If you didn't do something to take them down now, there's no telling what they would do to the hostages.

Drax nodded at you and you ran out from behind the crates. Aiming the gun for the ships propulsion jets, you tried to damage them as much as you could to prevent them from attempting to take off.

You were able to damage 3 out of 4 ships before your opponents began charging for you. Your partner and you fought hard, keeping the fight away from the victims.

"Keep back! There are other agents coming, they'll help you!" You shouted, ushering them toward the door but you froze when one of them pulled out a weapon.

They were hostages. Why weren't their hands bound?"

"It's an ambush!" You cried, just in time for them to swing and land a hit against your skull. You gasped, feeling excruciating pain explode through your head, the taste of blood invading your mouth when you bit down on your tongue.

The world began leaning and you hit the ground, vision going black.

***

You grunted in pain as he grabbed your hair, punching you so hard you felt blood crawl up your throat. You panted in exhaustion. Your body was so weak, you could feel it going limp but every time your neck went slack, the painful grip on your hair would give you just enough stimulation to keep from going unconscious.

"Aw, looks like she's going to faint again. Can't have that." The man smirked before dunking your head into a barrel of cold water.

You gasped at the temperature shock, water invading your nostrils and throat until you were yanked out. You spluttered and coughed violently until your stomach squeezed painfully and you threw up.

Proctor Drax had gone unconscious, taking his fair share of beatings like you had. They kept you awake, on the edge between consciousness and exhaustion, thinking a woman would bend to their whims faster.

"I'm getting tired of asking. Tell us the codes now." He punctuated the sentence with another punch to the stomach and you gasped for air, yelping in pain when he grabbed your hair again to keep you from going unconscious.

They wanted to codes to enter a highly classified part of the plumber's database, the codes of which were only shared with Proctor's or higher for security reasons.

It was highly protected, any hacking attempts were met with layers and layers of firewall while a program tracked their address and they were meant with squads of plumbers. If you gave them the codes, it wouldn't alert anyone, leaving them to get the information they required with no one the wiser.

You couldn't give them what they wanted. You wouldn't. Which meant when they got sick of asking, you'd be killed. Your hands were bound, you were beaten black and blue and there was no possible way for you to escape. At this point, death was a better option than the painful misery they were putting you through.

Your eyes fluttered shut, pain ripping through every muscle in your body. Your mind drifted to Ben and you felt your heart squeeze in your chest at the thought of him finding out he lost you.

Sure, your parents would miss you and mourn the loss of their only daughter but you knew the utter despair and grief that would go through Ben when he found out you were captured and killed.

You had only ever seen him get angry once, when his grandfather was threatened and it was like he was a completely different person. Was that version of Ben what awaited the world? Would he go mad trying to find who did it?

Your bottom lip quivered. You missed him.

You gritted your teeth, groaning as another punch was landed, "The codes, bitch!"

"Over my dead body." You growled.

He smirked, "I was hoping you'd say that."

***

"Is she still not answering?" Gwen asked, trying to focus on the mana surrounding your jacket. She had been trying for days now but couldn't track you down. You were way too far from her range.

"No! And I'm really starting to get worried. She said she'd be home 3 days ago." Ben panicked, ringing up your cell again while trying to track your Plumber's badge with his Omnitrix simultaneously. But he was disappointed twice when the Omnitrix gave no results and your phone went straight to voicemail.

This wasn't like you. You were ordered and punctual. If you said you were going to be there at a certain time you'd always be there 5 minutes early. And if on the off chance during a blue moon, you managed to be late, Ben always received a text explaining why.

But they had been unable to contact you for days and it was stressing him out.

"You don't even know what the mission was about?" Kevin asked and Ben sighed in frustration.

"No, she said it was confidential and that I wasn't allowed to know anything. All I know was she was supposed to be back 3 days ago!" He was pacing back and forth, biting on his thumb in nervousness.

He didn't know what to do, this was the first time someone was too far out of Gwen's range. He knew absolutely nothing about the mission and he didn't even know who to contact.

He heard the sound of rings in the background and thought Gwen was trying to call her again when he heard someone pick up.

"Hey grandpa have you heard anything from (Y/N)? She was supposed to be home 3 days ago and we're not able to reach her." Gwen asked and Ben felt his stomach sink in slight disappointment. He thought you had been the one to pick up.

"Uh, kids you might want to sit down. You're not going to like this."

The three of them shared a glance and Ben felt his stomach fall farther.

"The Plumbers have an extremely fortified database that contains a lot of sensitive information. Information that's so sensitive it would mean chaos if anyone ever got their hands on. It's so classified that no one other than Proctors or higher are able to access it."

His brows furrowed. What the hell was he talking about?

"Thing is, this database is so fortified and protected that, as a failsafe, the plumber's created a decoy and decoy codes have been given to every proctor in case of a hostage situation. And, the thing is, (Y/N)'s code was activated 4 days ago."

He stood up so quickly that his knees hit the table with a loud smack, "(Y/N)'s been taken hostage?! We have to find her!"

"Not just her, kid. Another proctor has also been abducted along with her."

"Then we have to go after them! Who was it?! Who took her?!"

There was a deep sigh on the other side, "Ben, I'm sorry but I don't know and if I did I'm not at liberty to tell you."

"What do you mean?"

"The protocol is: if the decoy codes are ever activated, the agent is abandoned. The plumbers are not allowed to go after them."

His heart felt like it had stopped in his chest and his throat closed so painfully that he felt tears bubble in the corner of his eyes. He stared at the phone sitting on the counter for a few moments, trying to understand just what his grandfather told him and wondering if he had heard him wrong.

This couldn't be happening. It was supposed to be an easy mission. You had assured him of that before you left, squashing his worries with a few reassuring words and kisses. How could this be happening?

You were taken hostage for god knows how many days and now his Grandfather was saying that he would never see you again? And that he wasn't even allowed to try looking?

It felt like the world around him was crumbling to pieces, the ground beneath him shaking as tremors went through his body.

Finally, he choked out, "W-What?"

A small nagging voice began poking the back of his head, eventually making it's way to the forefront. Gwen's magic; the magic that flowed through every living being in the universe, couldn't track you.

What if you weren't out range? But you were--?

It felt like he had gotten punched in the stomach.

"I'm sorry, kid. (Y/N) knew what she was getting into. She's on her own."

***

The floor was in absolute chaos. The members of your squad were running back and forth like headless chickens that were caught on fire. Ever since you and Proctor Drax had been captured, they had been trying to track you.

A couple of magisters had attempted to follow when you were taken but they shot them down and then lost them in an asteroid belt. Since returning back to plumber base, they were going crazy trying to track you, process the criminals that they did manage to catch and try to find the families of the victims they had rescued.

Not to mention that they were down a couple magisters since they got injured during the fight.

It was hard though, the ships that were used to abduct you and Proctor Drax were the most common in the universe, which made them impossible to track. It would be even more difficult to track you if your captors dumped the ship at any rest stop and stole another.

Which was most likely what happened.

They were stretched thin as it was but then something worse happened.

Your decoy code was activated and they were told to give up on the search for the both of you. A lot of them protested, they didn't want to give up on the search for their commanding officer but they were shut down.

They had to give up and abandon you and Proctor Drax.

Then, something even worse happened.

Legendary Ben Tennyson, the wielder of the most powerful weapon in the entire universe, came storming into their office and grabbed the closest Magister by the collar.

Ben gritted his teeth, "Where is she?! Where is (Y/N)?!"

"We're not at liberty to divulge that information, Mister Tennyson." The magister stuttered, trying to squirm out of his grip. They had all heard the stories of what he was capable of and they did not want to be on the receiving end of it.

"You're going to tell me, or I'm going to beat it out of you."

"Ben, stop!" He was pulled back by his cousin, pink threads wrapping around his body and yanking him away from the magister. He struggled in her grip, reaching for the his wrist when his hands were pinned down.

"Gwen, let go!"

"Calm down! You can't threaten them into telling you where she is!" She yelled, pulling him back into an empty room so they could talk. She still didn't let up with the restraints, keeping him firm in her constraint.

"So, what? You want me to just give up on her?! Like hell!"

"No one's saying you have to give up! But this isn't the right way!"

He snarled, gritting his teeth and thrashing in her grip, feeling part alien even though he hadn't transformed yet. This emotion was new, he had never felt anything like this before.

Pain that was so intense, so overwhelming, so painful, that he couldn't do anything other than scream and get angry. Because he knew that if he broke down, he'd never be able to put himself back together again.

"Let go, Gwen. I have to find her." He said, calming down.

"I know you do. But it's been over a week since she was taken. Her code was activated 4 days ago and we haven't heard anything from her yet. What do you think these crooks are going to do with their hostage, who is a highly deputized agent of the plumbers after they got what they wanted? Let her go?

His lip quivered and he squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head. Ben wanted to cover his ears, not wanting to listen to the cold slap of reality that Gwen was determined to give him.

"I don't want to believe it either, but we might have to come to terms that (Y/N) is de--"

"NO! SHE'S NOT DEAD!" He screamed, finally letting the tears he was holding at bay go. Once the dam had been broken, he couldn't keep it all in anymore, grief rushing out of him like tsunami waves.

The restraints holding him let go and he was reduced to a sobbing pile on the floor, holding onto his cousin in a death grip as he wept and wailed into her shoulder. She cried too, hugging him close and running her fingers through his hair to calm him down.

"I can't lose her." He whispered in between gasps but Gwen didn't reply and instead rubbed circles on his back, coaxing him to let it all out.

***

Two hours later, Gwen sat on the floor of the Plumber's satellite, Ben sleeping soundly in her lap after crying himself to a point of exhaustion. She watched him carefully, using her powers to manifest positive emotions for him, hoping he wouldn't have any nightmares.

She was just about to wake him up so they could go home when alarms starting blaring and red lights began flashing. Ben, now startled awake, and her immediately ran to the other room.

"What happened? What's going on?" Gwen asked the Magister that had previously been threatened by Ben.

"As if this day couldn't get any worse! We have an unauthorized ship flying toward us." He groaned, typing in something before he pressed and held down on the intermission button.

"Unauthorized vehicle, you are approaching Plumber's Base 2. You are not authorized to land here. Turn back now or be arrested upon landing for trespassing on restricted grounds." He spoke, voice so commanding that it was a stark contrast from the pitiful whimpers he had let out when Ben had his collar.

There was a beat of static before they received the vehicles transmission, "Don't engage. This is Proctor Drax. Have a couple officers ready to process the arrested criminals."

He didn't have to say anything else, they were all marching out of the room and toward the docking bay, with Ben following close behind them

Time seemed to slow down to a stop as he watched the ship land and his heart beating was the only sound he could hear. There was a cruel voice telling him not to get his hopes up. The fall from that much higher would only hurt more.

He swallowed painfully, watching the hatch of the door finally open and then came Proctor Drax, looking severely injured but Ben couldn't let his gaze linger on him, eyes darting instead to the figure behind him.

He waited for the figure to come out of the shadows and was once again disappointed when a handcuffed criminal made his way out of the ship. And another one in handcuffs followed him. And another.

13 criminals. All there are accounted for stalked out of the ship and towards the barrage of plumbers that were there to receive them.

And then nothing.

Ben clenched his jaw shut. Trying hard to keep himself from shedding anymore tears. He'd do that when he was in the comfort of his bedroom. He turned to leave when another figure finally limped out of the shuttle.

You looked like you had been put through hell and back, sporting a black eye and split lip, paired with a stream of blood that ran down the side of your face and then over the handprints on your neck.

You limped down the stairway, grimacing it every step you took when you froze, red-rimmed eyes meeting his own teary green.

"Ben." You breathed, your body so broken and bruised that you couldn't tell whether you were moving toward him or if he was moving closer to you.

But then it was all okay because you were caught in his arms and finally smelling the comforting scent of his deodorant. You were in so much pain, you had constantly been in so much pain for so many days that now that you were finally safe and in his grasp, you allowed yourself to shed a couple tears, burying your face into his shirt.

"Missed you. So much." You whispered shakily. He was holding you too tight, you could feel numbing pain go through your broken ribs but even then you stayed in his embrace as you heard him sob softly. He needed this just as much as you did.

"I missed you too."

You were together. Everything was in balance. Everything was okay.

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

@haniscrying

@superheroesaremyjam113263

@writers-whirlwind

[fluffymiyaa]

Ditto

Bestfriend!reo x reader

Tw: reo being obsessive and creepy towards reader, but that's just how he is.

Summary: what happen if you finally confessed to your best friend and he doesn't know it?

I got nothing to lose 널 좋아한다고 ♡

Masterlist

The wind blowing against your sensitive skin gives you goosebumps. the raindrops that bounced off the ground made you take a few steps back under the roof of the school terrace. Feeling of restlessness and regret arises for forgetting to bring an umbrella.

You sigh thinking of ways to get home without getting wet. You have asked your friends to share umbrellas but they are already full. And your best friend Reo has practice today. And to be honest don't want to face him right now. You can't. Not after what you just did.

A tap on your shoulder interrupted your thoughts.

"Haah, sorry, have you been waiting long?" He asked with panting breath.

You frowned. Questioned why he was here.

"Reo? What are you doing here? Don't you have practice?"

"Ah, practice got cancel today" He said as he fixing his bun hair. One of his habits that makes you like him even more.

"Oh"

A bunch of girls pass by you and and greet Reo.

"Reo go home savely! Don't forget to eat the chocolates i made~"

"Reo-senpai otsukaresama~, read my letter ok?

"Reo-san see u tomorrow~"

Reo just said thank you and smiled at them. But deep down he was irritated by those noisy chirping. But he can't show it, not infront of you.

"Should we go now?" He asked

"What do you mean? Aren't you going to be picked up by car? or together nagi?"

He gasped. "Ouch, today is valentines day and MY DEAR best friend refused to come home with me" he said by dramatizing his words and his voice made it sound like a deep hurt. Put his hand oh his chest.

You sighed. "I didn't say no Reo. I also didn't bring any umbrella with me"

Reo stared at you for a moment. He opened his bag and took his umbrella and opened it.

"Well? I guess we have to share umbrella, huh?" He grinned.

"How did you get an umbrella? You never bring it before" you ask suspiciously.

"Hmm, doesn't matter"

You rolled you eyes, though your heart starts beating so fast. "C'mon, we need to walk faster before the rain get worse". Just started walking a few steps Reo suddenly grabbed your shoulder.

"Get closer, you'll get wet"

"Oh yeah, thanks"

After a while, you two walk without saying anything. There was only the sound of raindrops and the stomping of feet on the muddy ground from both of you.

"You're a little quiet today, we haven't talked much." He finally talked. His words made you flinch a little.

"Oh, sorry.. it's just today it's valentines day.. and people have been around you all day to gave you presents. Unlike you, nobody gave me any presents or chocolate... I just keep a distance to not bother you."

It's honestly makes you sad and insecure about it. You feel like you don't pretty enough and doesn't deserve to be Reo's side.

"Huh? Don't do that! You're not bothering me! Stop keep a distance on me okay? We've been friends fo long. No need to hold back like that. And who cares about the present or chocolate?! If you something you could just ask me, i'll buy a whole chocolate factory for you!" He annoyed. He's not joking tho. He would , if you ask him to.

You chuckled. "Okay okay Reo"

He smirked. "I got a unique present in my locker today"

You gulped. "Yeah? What is it?"

"A lego flower"

Fuck.

"With a small letter"

Nervousness devours your body. You play your fingers trying to distract yourself.

"You're so lucky. It needs days or all night to make lego flower" you said trying to calm yourself.

His smile widened, he even bit his lower lip to hold it in. His face getting red. He looked away so you wouldn't see him. Then he turned back to you embraced you closer to him make your bodies touch. His hand was still tightly gripping the handle of the umbrella.

"Hmm you right.. maybe i should accept their feeling? You have any idea who send this, Y/n?" He whispered right to your ears. Makes your back shivered and whole body heats up. You pushed Reo a little from you.

"Ugh why would i know? Don't pulled me like that"

"Sorry. But.. something off about this person"

You and Reo walk back down the street to your house which is in the same complex. The rain has started to subside.

"How?" You asked

"I wonder how the person put it in my locker. Nobody knows the code except me, nagi.. or you. Well it couldn't be Nagi, he's with me since the morning"

"Re-really? Could there be a stalker? Maybe it's one of your fans?"

"Eh, i should be more carefull then"

You both fell silent as you continued walking. You turned to Reo and stared at his beautiful feature. He is a tall young man with a lean and strong build. He has chin-length purple hair, his tied in a high bun, leaving two locks of hair framing his face. And also his bright purple eyes. Until your eyes catch something.

"Reo! Y-your shoulder is getting wet!" You panicked and push the umbrella to cover him up. But he gripped it tighter and pushed it in the opposite.

"Ah, it's fine. I'm gonna take a shower anyway." he said casually.

"But-"

"Shhh, let's walk faster."

His right hand grabs your hand and dragged you. The grip of the left hand never left tge the umbrella handle. Splashes of water stain your shoes up to your calves makes them dirty. But you don't care. What you care about right now you and Reo are holding hand and running through the rain. You both laughters are buried by the sound of the rain. But as long as you guys can hear each other that's enough.

"Haahhh finally we arrived" he groaned.

"Well we are arrived at MY house. Your house still a couple blocks from here." you said

He raised his one eyebrow. "So? It's still the same. C'mon" he dragged you into your house. Opened the door for you to enter first, then closed the umbrella first and put it in the basket. He immediately closed the door so that rainwater does not enter into more of the house.

"Where's your mum?"

"At aunt's"

You opened you shoes and he followed. When you were about to take your shoes and his to put them in the shoe rack, he stopped you. "No, you're hands will get dirty. I'll do it myself. Just go and get clothes for me, yeah?"

You nodded. "I'll prepare a clean clothes for you and make us a hot chocolate. If you finish just go upstairs and wait in my room"

•••••

Reo who is alone in your room, felt he was almost crazy now, he couldn't stop smiling and giggling at what he had just seen now.

He found a box of lego flowers under your bed.

Fu*k she's so cute

He staring his shirt and his short on your bed that you already prepared for him. He quickly changed his wet uniform.

Knock knock

"Reo? Are you finish changing?"

"Yeah, come in"

You go in and found reo sitting relaxed on your bed with the clothes you prepared earlier for him.

"You still keep my clothes, huh?" He teased

Blood rushing to you cheeks. "You never bring you clothes with you after sleepover here. So i keep it."

It's true though. Reo always refused to take the clothes from the day before because he likes the fact that you will wash his clothes and keep it in your little wardrobe together with your clothes. And now you and him share the same smell.

You walk towards your floor table and put the 2 cups of hot chocolate. Reo staring at you still wearing your school uniform. "Aren't you going to change, y/n?"

"O-oh right. Wait"

You open your wardobe and take out your t-shirt and shorts. Then go to the bathroom. Reo was holding back to says "why don't you just change you clothes here?" But no, he won't going that far. But he'll be lying if he doesn't want to know what your reaction would be. It must be cute he thinks.

You got out from your bathroom already changed. You see Reo already sat on the carpet as he drinks his hot chocolate. He looks at you and tapping his empty side gives a signal to you to sit down.

You both sit there in silence. You drink your hot chocolate try to break the silence but it's not working. It feels awkward and you got more nervous. You think maybe you should just confessed to him right now but you're too scared. What if Reo doesn't feel the same way and you friendship will get ruin.

In the other side, Reo knows whats happening, he can see how shaking and confused you are and he likes it, way too likes it. He almost feel bad. But he couldn't help it you just so cute and looks fragile to him.

"Reo.. say something..."

He chuckled. Your whine sounds just melodies to him. And the next think he said is surprised you.

"Ditto"

You look at him in wide eyes.

"E-eh?"

"Why? You look surprised" he smiled at you.

You really thought that word was for you. But there's no way, Reo doesn't know that it was you, right?

"No, it's just why you randomly said that like you answering the letter."

He laughed.

"I never show you what's inside the letter, Y/n. How did you know?" His face getting closer to yours.

"......"

"......"

Eh? He never show it? I thought-

Ahh what am i going to do?!

Did he find out?!

How?!

You frozed. Speechless. You opened your mouth but nothing comes out. Your heart beats fast. Your body heats up even though it's cold outside due to the rain. You just sit there look at him who still smiling at you.

Ah, my y/n just so clueless. Oh, is she gonna cry? Cute.

"I said that i like you too you know, aren't you happy about it?" Reo pouted.

"N-no i- of cource i'm happy, Reo!" Your hands cling hard on his tshirt. You get too overhelmed you didn't even realize tears coming down to your face. You've been waiting for this for so long.

"God, you're so pretty" he whispered. He's gone mad.

He's getting closer to close the gap between you two till your lips touched. He placed his hand under your jaw, his other hand squished you hip as you hands still clinging on his tshirt. He open up lil bit his mouth so you did it too. Now you both can taste each others sweetness from hot chocolate. Then he pulled away makes you whined.

He licked his lips. "Sweet". It makes you feel more embarassed.

"Thanks for the flowers, baby. I love it" he said as he stroked your cheeks. You nodded and shying away.

"Oh, i have a present to for you. Here, Happy Valentines day, y/n" he hand you a purple little box.

"Can open it?"

"Hmm, go on, sweety" his petnames gave you butterfly.

You open the box. And there were two hairpins with Kuromi's face inside. It makes you eyes twickled, you smile at it.

Reo rubbed his back neck. "Well i know it's not really special or expensive. I just want make it as a symbols that we're official now. You see.. there's two of it, one for me and one for you. Ah but you know, i would buy anything for you, okay? Is there anything i could get for you?"

You laughed and shook your head. "No, thank you, Reo. These are so adorable, i like it very much." You took one hairpin and placed it on your hair. You took the other one and placed on Reo's hair.

"Aww we're pairing right now, so cute hehe. Lets take some pictures, Reo?"

How could he says no to his baby, of course he said yes to everything you want and need.

These wholesome romance scenes makes him forgot about a bad things he did. From canceled his practiced and told his driver to not pick him up so he can go home with you. From he took advantages one of his fan and took her umbrella without caring how she's gonna get home. From how threating any guys that want to get closer or have a crush on you and it makes you feel insecure and sad, he feels bad about that one though. But it doesn't matter, you only need him, you're gonna choose him and him only. Well you just did.

You're all his now. Though, you already his since the first time you met. That's why you always together. He's always been there for you whenever you happy, sad, angry, he's there with open arms. He treats you well too, bought you anything you want or need, always satisfied you and makes you happy with him.

He deserves you right? You deserve each other. That's why you chose him. And he won't let that change.

Reblogs are more appreciated! Thanks for the notes<3

[cambion-companion]

could you maybe write an aemond/wife reader fic where they are getting ready for a yule ball and going to it idk idk just a little thought love ur work <3

Hi my love, I wrote something similar, just the breakfast with the family the morning of Yule or Jōl as it was originally known as in Scandinavia :)

I'm writing this at 3 am because Aemond will not get out of my head like...bruh.

Word count: 600

Aemond x reader | Daeron and Aegon have fun | breakfast with the fam

You took a heavy swig of mulled wine, your mind still in a sleepy haze as you sat at the dining table with your family. It looked festive with glittering decorations upon the stone walls and the grand hearth hosted a cozy crackling fire.

Your eyes cut over to where your husband sat. Aemond looked quite as tired as you felt, though he gave you a sly smile when your gazes met. Heat rising to your cheeks you looked hastily away. You felt his hand rest upon your knee beneath the table.

"I know why I am so tired." Aegon observed the two of you over the brim of his crystal goblet. "What's your reason?"

Daeron watched you and Aemond with interest as well, clearly taking mental notes as always of what Aemond was about to say.

"We got little rest, Aegon." Aemond said shortly, hiding a secret smile as he too took a sip of wine.

The rest of the family had yet to arrive, so far it was just you, Aemond, Aegon and Daeron. Aegon seemed intent on capitalizing on this fact, he snorted into his cup. "So, it was a productive night then?"

Daeron looked confused a moment, his lilac eyes swiveling between the three of you before they widened slightly. "Oh."

"Yes, 'oh', dear brother." Aegon chuckled heartily as Aemond shared an annoyed look with you. "With luck you too will be able to arrive exhausted to the Yule breakfast with your lady."

"Aegon that's enough."

"Aemond, I swear to the Seven, you don't know how to have fun."

"Oh no, he does." You interjected, grinning behind your napkin as you delicately dabbed the corners of your wine-stained lips. "Of that rest assured."

You were pleased that your words seemed to leave the eldest prince speechless, a light pink dusting Aemond's high cheekbones as well. Daeron looked fascinated.

Your eyes found the dancing flames of the fireplace, though all you saw was the memories of the previous night. Aemond's arms wrapped around you, your mouth on his body, the taste of him, feeling him as he moved inside y-

With a jolt you were yanked back to reality as the double doors opened to admit the rest of the family. Helaena entered first with her children, Alicent, Otto and even Cole followed close behind.

"Happy Yule, my loves." Alicent beamed at everyone as they tucked themselves into the lavish feast as it was brought out by the servants. "I, for one, cannot wait for the tourney events this afternoon."

You glanced over at Aemond, meeting his violet eye and grinning at his displeased expression.

"Yes, Aemond. You're going to participate." Alicent was watching him as well.

Aemond gave her a nod, his hand on your knee clenched involuntarily and you giggled. He loathed tourneys.

Aegon looked uninterested, Helaena gave an excited little clap.

Daeron grinned at Aemond with obvious admiration. "I am to compete as well! Perhaps we shall even spar against each other!"

You nudged Aemond beneath the table and he spared a small smile for his younger brother. "That would make it more bearable, Daeron."

"Rhaenyra and her children are arriving this afternoon as well." Otto said. "The Velaryon boys will be competing in the sparring match today."

"They will present no challenge at all." Daeron piped up.

"You have not yet met them!" Alicent laughed at her youngest's confidence.

"Aemond told me everything I need to know!" Daeron puffed out his chest trying to sneak a drink of wine, but Alicent caught him with a glare.

"See what you've done?" You whispered to your husband, who was not bothering to hide his grin now as he looked fondly at Daeron.

"I do." Pride dripped from Aemond's voice as he leaned into you, placing a chaste kiss to your temple as you rolled your eyes. "I find myself not so put off by the tourney after all."

Gods help those Velaryon boys.

[gyllenhaalstories]

PILLOW TALK — DAVIS MITCHELL 🎂

summary: it’s your birthday and davis baked you a cake and built you a pillow fort. oh! and nothing was demolished during your birthday celebration, so what more could you ask for?

warnings: i’m going off the rails pretending i understand demolition on a profound level, eating, fluff. 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 1830

gifs credits: @/stephendorff (cropped) / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: today is my birthday and i am, for the third time, making it everyone’s problem with a self indulgent fic during which i enjoy some cozy time with my wife, davis. 🛋️ thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

“What do we do with a couch like this?” Davis looked at you with a small grin on his bearded face. He pointed his index fingers down at the couch while he sank further into the cushions.

Your first instinct was to say to buy a new one. And your instinct was not wrong, the couch had seen better days. The seats were worn out, torn at the seams. It got bumps in some places from when you had struggled to carry it in the living room. It could benefit from never carrying the weight of your world again and passing along this responsibility to a fresher, newer couch. Despite all of those thoughts running through your head, you did not speak. You watched. You watched Davis while he pulled the couch apart.

He plopped the decorative pillows and blankets on the floor. He dragged the couch away from the wall and grunted while he flipped it so that the back rest now created a roof. He used the big seat cushions as walls on each side and he surprised himself, realizing that it seemed sturdy enough to keep this shape.

You watched him demolish and build anew. It was not the first time that he transformed your living room in a pillow fort, but there was something different about the way he built it, like he was putting his heart into it. There was something different about him, period. With that thought lingering at the back of your mind, you tried to intervene. He turned down every single offer of help that you made and he insisted that he could do it alone.

“It’s your birthday." Davis simply answered, as if this specific date on the calendar prevented you from doing anything at all. Even when you two were baking a box cake mix together an hour ago, he only let you preheat the oven. He did the rest all on his own. Well, he tried to. The last time he had attempted to make a cake this way, it was with his mom years and years ago. He murmured under his breath that it wasn’t considered fancy enough so he stopped having them.

The idea sparked in his mind when you told him that you did not have anything planned for your birthday. He showed up, dressed in baggy pants and suspenders, with the box of overpriced chocolate cake he somehow found at a gas station that carried some groceries, for emergencies and last minute plans. You were lucky that it had not expired already.

Davis insisted that birthdays required a cake. So he got to work. Davis insisted that he must prepare it for you, so he did. He wanted to give you this special attention. This special attention came with the secret term and condition that he must eat the batter straight from the spatula until the oven beeped, announcing it was ready. You did not quite have a cake anymore, the mould was half empty (”Half full,” Davis rectified).

It was the thought that counted. And you definitely appreciated Davis’ thoughtfulness. You laughed when he told you he did not care about the stains of batter on his clothes, the army surplus had many more he could buy. You wiped the dishes dry after he washed them, laughing again at how he was making a mess of soapy water everywhere. It was not the cake that held sentimental value, it was the moment you were sharing together.

“Your castle is waiting for you, milady.” The upper half of Davis’ body peeked out of the pillow fort. Somehow he had found a flashlight in your living room and he used it to light up the inside of the fort. A wide smile, from ear to ear, greeted you when you walked across the living room and got on all fours to crawl into the mountain of cushions and pillows.

Before you crawled, you handed the plate of leftover cake to Davis so you both could have a snack in the cozy fort. You took a bite as soon as you were settled in. Soon enough the air was getting warm under the blankets and you took off the cardigan you were wearing.

Davis grabbed it and set it aside for you. He looked at you, still smiling wide. “Happy Birthday.”

“Thank you.” You pushed the plate of cake in his direction. He made the last few bites of the chocolate dessert disappear. It caused him to giggle at himself and the happy sound of his boyish laugh made you smile back at him. “It’s been a very happy birthday with you.”

Silence crept between the two of you. He was not a very talkative man, for the most part, and it was hard to come up with a conversation topic a lot of the time. You were learning to welcome the silences. And you were also learning to accept the more random conversations, the wild thoughts that ran through Davis’ mind and that he spoke out loud, half intentionally and half accidentally. “I like this couch.”

You chuckled and nodded slowly. “You do?” You encouraged him to keep talking.

“Yeah. It’s... You know, it’s comfortable. It makes the room comfortable.” He fidgeted with the spoon in his hands. He was sitting, cross-legged, with his back making a bow. It would probably hurt tomorrow. But tomorrow was another day, another set of problems. There was no problem in this moment, with you. “I hated my house. It was just shiny stuff.” 

His eyebrows arched on his forehead, creating wrinkles that you found yourself thinking of kissing.

“I love your house. It’s just full of you.” He shrugged. “You’re everywhere in this house. I like that. That’s where I want to be.”

“I’m happy you feel like this. Thank you for telling me, Davis.”

“You’re welcome.” He gave you a corner smile and brought a hand to his head. He quickly scratched his scalp and knocked his knuckles on his forehead. It looked as though he was holding himself back, or that he was getting lost in his thoughts.

You couldn’t tell. You offered silence instead as you watched him.

You watched him switch positions from sitting to laying down. “Do you want to do something tomorrow?” He marked a pause. “Together?”

The question surprised you. He did not make plans, usually. He was more of a show up at your door, ringing the doorbell and hang out until his social battery died kind of guy. You knew that about him, only you had always wondered why he would hang out for a longer period of time with you than with anyone else. “I’d love that.”

The flashlight flickered a little bit. His eyelids were getting heavy. “I’d love that too.”

“Good.” You looked at him, your eyes squinting while trying to read what was going on behind those blue eyes.

Davis’ legs were sticking out of the fort, uncovered and exposed to the much cooler air of the room. He rested his head on your bunched up cardigan and he laid on his side, watching you watching him.

“You look tired.” You smiled faintly, he yawned as you spoke.

“Is it midnight yet?” He was not used to staying up late. He got better at it than before, but his body woke up ridiculously early every day like clock work. When you shook your head no, having quickly peeked out of the pillow fort to look at the clock on the wall, he took a deep breath. “I want to be with you until the end of the day.”

You smiled again, this time wider. You decided to lay down next to him. Your faces and bodies were close, but there was a comfortable distance. “You know…” Davis’ big puppy eyes stared at you. “Sometimes I wonder what’s going on in your head.”

Your eyes were met with Davis’ usual blank stare, one that left you perpetually perplexed. It seemed as though there were a million thoughts running through his head but also none at the same time. He took another deep breath. His eyes looked at yours, then looked at the rest of your face and down to your lips. He did not respond with words, but he still gave you a surprising answer.

Your eyes widened from the surprise when you saw him moving closer to you. He got closer and closer, slowly and tentatively.

Davis erased the distance between the two of you and kissed you, gently and tenderly. His lips moved slowly against yours while he made the kiss last for several seconds. His heart was racing, and so was yours. He pulled away and studied your face briefly.

You thought he was afraid of your reaction, when he buried his face in your neck without waiting for you to say or do something. You could not be more wrong.

He kept his face there, hidden in your neck. The smell of the perfume on your skin, the scent of your baking shenanigans on your clothes, the warmth of your body as well as the familiar feeling of your embrace when you wrapped your arms around him… It made him feel safe, it made him feel good. So good that his body relaxed in your arms. Soon enough, you realized, by the way his breathing slowed down and by the faint snoring noises that he made, that Davis had fallen asleep on you.

You relaxed too. Your hands started to stroke his back until you stopped, feeling the urge to hold him close and tight against your body. You looked up to the blankets draped over the couch above you. One sudden move and it could all fall apart. It was a good metaphor for your birthday. One sudden thought and you would spiral away. However, if you stayed right here and there in this moment, this simple yet agreeable birthday celebration would carry on.

Davis did not tell you what was going on in his head nor did he tell you, in full honesty, what he truly and genuinely cared about when you asked him earlier. You dropped the question like a bomb while he was mixing the ingredients of the cake. He told you that the last time he truly cared about something, it went all the way back to when he was a kid and he wanted to run faster than his peers. You could tell this was not the truth, but you let it slide. There would be another time to ask this question, and hopefully another time to kiss again. He let the kiss, this shy yet meaningful peck on your lips, speak for himself. 

The pillow talk was nice, but that kiss was even nicer. The butterflies in your stomach that appeared because of the kiss (perhaps they had been flying quietly for a long time prior) were the greatest birthday gift he could have given you.