#what do you mean the story’s moved forward in the three years since I stopped keeping track of it

[beanpolebubblegum]

I think I might have picked a bad time to start becoming devastatingly neurodivergent about jjk why’s everyone dead now

[yparkwrites]

SON OF THE MOB SUNGHOON FF

Pairing: Mafia Sunghoon x Female reader (Y/N)

Content warnings: explicit content (smut), mentions of abuse, bruises, blood, etc.

Word count: 18k+

Synopsis: When Sunghoon, the son of Mr. Park meets a fearless girl everything will change around him as he tries to fight for his freedom from his father's nest.

Note: this is my first ever Enhypen ff, it is published on Wattpad as a complete story.

© 2024 Y. PARK WRITES. All Rights Reserved.

NO MINORS ALLOWED 18+ ONLY

Part 1 - 4

CHAPTER 5: Moving Forward

1

Three years had passed since the night Sunghoon had left Y/n, the night since he left a void in her heart. During those past years their circle of friends became bigger. Jay and Jungwon are additions to their circle. 

“How many years left before we graduate?” Yura asked, completely worn out due to their projects and exams coming up. 

“2 more years,” Y/n replied, chuckling at Yura’s presence, bags under her eyes and messy hair. 

“Did you guys hear the rumor?” Jungwon asked as he sat beside a sleepy Yura. 

“Jungwon, everyday you come with new rumors, new gossip, please give us a break,” Jake said, taking a seat as he placed his tray of food on the cafeteria table. 

“The new gossip is for Y/n,” Jungwon said smiling, raising both his eyebrows.

“Just spill it,” Jay said uninterested, worn out too, as he failed to get enough sleep the other night. 

“Sunghoon is back in town, a student said he saw him beating up a drunkard in the alleyway near the convenience store.” Jungwon said, catching Y/n’s attention. 

“What?” Jake asked.

“You weren’t interested awhile ago,” Jungwon retorted at Jake. 

“Well now you have my attention spill everything,” Jake argued back at him, widening his eyes a little.

“That’s the only information I know for now, but I heard that he’s gonna go back here anytime soon, and everyone should be prepared as he’s not the same Sunghoon from three years ago.” Jungwon said. 

Before Jungwon could add more details on what he had said the bell rang indicating that lunch was over. 

“Damn I’m not even done eating.” Jake said.

2 

Y/n sat in the library to study, she decided not to pursue business and study literacy instead, she doesn’t have many classes compared to when she was in business class. 

As she tried working on her reviewers, her mind kept drifting off to Sunghoon, especially to what Jungwon had said during lunch. “Is he really back?” Y/n asked herself, looking at the necklace around her neck, the necklace Sunghoon told her to keep. 

“Are you really back?” She asked herself again, touching the necklace. 

“You good?” Someone said from behind her, and it was their group leader, Heeseung.

“Yeah, just thinking about something,” Y/n responded, looking down at her books.

“If you’re thinking about what I told you yesterday, it’s fine if you don’t feel the same way,” Heeseung said, taking the empty seat beside her.

“No, it’s not that. It’s about the rumor.” Y/n replied.

“Oh Sunghoon? Yeah, it’s not a rumor, I saw him a while ago, he enrolled in our class, I don’t know why our class but what can we do about it.” Heeseung said, clearly frustrated that Sunghoon will be in the same class as them. 

“Do you hate him?” Y/n asked.

“It’s not that I hate him, but he’s gonna put everyone in danger,” Heeseung said.

“He won’t.” Y/n replied looking at him.

“You don’t know him Y/n,” Heeseung replied back.

“Neither do you, he protected me from getting hurt three years ago.” Y/n stated slightly raising her voice. Y/n started grabbing her books to leave.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to offend you, but still.” Heeseung argued, holding her arm to stop her from leaving.

“You asked me, where I got the necklace, Sunghoon gave it to me three years ago before he left so that his father won’t try hurting me,” Y/n said, pulling her arm from Heeseung’s grip and leaving him alone in the library. 

3

“So you’re telling me, Heeseung told you he saw Sunghoon at the university?” Jake asked while driving Y/n home.

“Yeah,” Y/n responded. 

“And Heeseung pissed you off when he talked bad about him?” Jake asked. 

“Yeah, he’s talking like he knows him very well.” Y/n said, crossing her arms.

“Y/n we might know the old Sunghoon, but not the new one, the student that saw him the other night said he had changed completely, he’s like a different person,” Yura said, opening her eyes to look at Y/n.

“Well that’s just the gossip.” Y/n stated.

“It was on the news this morning that my mom watched, he killed the drunkard Y/n.” Yura replied, looking at her. “You don’t have to believe it, if you don’t want to, but I wouldn’t approach him first, if he approached you first talk to him, but if not, don’t.” Yura added.

4

At night, Y/n can’t fall asleep again. She grabbed the bottle of her sleeping pills, “It’s empty, great,” 

Y/n stood up from her bed and went downstairs. It was dark and quiet. She reached the kitchen, flipping on the light to search for something that can help her sleep. She sighed before opening the refrigerator, hoping a glass of milk might help her. 

She stood there, her thoughts consumed by what Yura had said, Sunghoon, a killer? That 's impossible. 

Y/n took her glass of milk and went upstairs to her room, she went out of the balcony as she stared into the night. She remembered the ball night, the first he held her in his arms, he kissed her and left her. 

Tears streamed down her face remembering that night. “What if they’re right?” Y/n asked herself. “What if he really changed?” She asked herself again. 

Y/n sobbed imagining the worst case scenario possible. 

5

The next morning, she texted Jake to let him know she was walking to the university to clear her mind.

Lost in her thoughts, she heard someone call her name and saw Heeseung approaching.

“Y/n, hey, you’re walking today?” Heeseung said.

“Yeah, just to clear my mind a bit,” Y/n replied, trying to keep her voice steady.

Heeseung sighed. “Y/n, look, I’m sorry about yesterday. I know I might have come off harsh. I don’t know your history with him, and I’m not really into gossip. I was just worried.”

“It’s fine, no worries. I just hate it when someone badmouths him. But I understand, it’s been three years, and he might have really changed,” Y/n said, her voice softening.

“You don’t mind if I walk with you, right?” Heeseung asked.

“No, it’s fine,” Y/n responded.

6

Due to their upcoming exams, Y/n decided to stay late at the university library, but she couldn’t stop thinking about Sunghoon.

“I should just go home,” Y/n mumbled to herself. She gathered her things and decided to call it a night.

She walked home to clear her mind. As she passed by her mom’s convenience store, she saw a familiar figure.

“Sunghoon,” she whispered. She watched him grab some snacks and pay for them. Their eyes locked for a brief moment. He looked at her, emotionless.

After a few seconds, he walked away without saying anything.

CHAPTER 6: He changed

1

Y/n stood there, her heart pounding as she watched Sunghoon walk away. She couldn’t let him leave without trying to talk to him. Mustering all her courage, she called out to him.

“Sunghoon!” she shouted, her voice trembling.

He stopped but didn’t turn around. Slowly, he looked over his shoulder, his expression unchanged, cold and distant.

Y/n walked closer, her steps hesitant. “Is it really you?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Sunghoon turned to face her fully, his eyes cold and filled with confusion. “Excuse me?” he asked.

Y/n looked at him, her eyes welling up with tears. “Where have you been?” she asked.

“Do I know you?” Sunghoon asked. Y/n’s heart sank upon hearing those words. He didn’t remember her. She let her tears stream down her cheeks. Sunghoon sighed before turning to leave.

“You gave me your necklace before you left,” Y/n mustered all her courage to say. He looked back at her.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t remember you, nor that necklace,” he replied, leaving her heartbroken. Just then, it started raining heavily, as if the clouds were crying with her.

“Y/n!” Someone yelled from behind her. She didn’t turn around, watching Sunghoon’s shadow disappear.

“Are you crazy!?” The same person said before dragging her into his car.

2

“Jake, what happened?” Yura asked as she brought Y/n a towel.

“I don’t know. She won’t say anything,” Jake replied to his sister.

“He doesn’t remember me,” Y/n mumbled as they both turned to look at her.

“Who?” Yura asked, sitting beside her.

“I saw Sunghoon. I saw him, and he doesn’t remember me,” Y/n replied, tears streaming down her face.

Yura hugged her, letting her cry on her shoulder while Jake watched, feeling helpless as her sobs grew louder.

3

The next morning, Y/n woke up with swollen eyes and a heavy heart. She couldn’t shake the image of Sunghoon’s cold, unfamiliar gaze. The weight of his forgotten memories pressed down on her, making it hard to breathe.

“Morning,” Yura greeted softly, bringing a cup of tea into Y/n’s room. “How are you feeling?”

Y/n took the cup, her hands trembling slightly. “I don’t know,” Y/n responded.

Yura sat down beside her, gently squeezing her hand. “Everything will be fine. By the way, we called your mom to tell her you had a sleepover here,” Yura said.

“Thank you,” Y/n said, taking a sip of tea.

The three of them went to the university together.

4

As soon as they walked inside the university, everyone was gossiping about something. Just then, Jay and Jungwon came running toward them.

“Slow down,” Y/n told them as they almost slipped.

“You wouldn’t believe it,” Jungwon said, panting.

“Sunghoon is here,” Jay said, smiling at Y/n, unaware of what happened last night.

“You’re not happy?” Jungwon asked as he noticed the lack of excitement in her eyes.

“I’m going to class,” Y/n muttered before leaving them at the entrance of the university.

“What?” Jay asked Jake.

“Sunghoon doesn’t remember anything,” Jake responded.

“Who told you?” Jungwon asked.

“Y/n saw him last night. He didn’t recognize her, so don’t talk about him for a while,” Jake said, following Y/n.

Y/n entered the classroom and saw him there, sitting beside her assigned seat. He looked up when he heard the door opening, and their eyes met. His gaze fell on her neck, where the necklace was now visible due to the sunlight shining into the classroom. He stood up from the seat. As he slowly approached Y/n, his eyes remained fixed on the necklace.

When Y/n noticed where his gaze was, she held the necklace and tried to hide it under her shirt, but before she could do so, Sunghoon grabbed it, pulling her toward him, making her wince in pain.

“It hurts,” Y/n mumbled, trying not to cry.

“Where did you get it?” Sunghoon asked coldly, pulling her closer by the necklace.

“You gave it to me. Please, it hurts,” Y/n said, but he didn’t let go. He pulled her even closer, making her wince in pain.

“Let her go,” Jake said as he approached them, trying to pull Sunghoon’s grip away from the necklace.

“It’s mine,” Sunghoon said, tightening his grip on the necklace, making Y/n wince again.

“You’re hurting her!” Jake yelled. By now, they had attracted the attention of other students.

“I’ll remove it. Please, it hurts,” Y/n mumbled as Sunghoon released his grip on the necklace.

Y/n removed it, and Sunghoon took it harshly from her hand.

5

The next day, rumors of Sunghoon losing his memories spread throughout the entire university.

Sunghoon arrived at the university, wearing the necklace. Students started whispering about how harshly he had taken it from Y/n.

“Sunghoon,” someone called him, and he turned around.

“What do you want?” Sunghoon asked Jake, clearly frustrated.

“Can we talk?” Jake asked him.

“We already are,” Sunghoon replied sarcastically.

“In private,” Jake said, glancing at the students whispering among themselves.

Sunghoon and Jake went to the parking lot.

“What happened to you?” Jake asked him.

“Nothing happened to me,” Sunghoon replied.

“You gave that to Y/n before you left her, left us,” Jake said, slightly raising his voice.

“Listen, I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I’ve never seen you or that girl in my life,” Sunghoon replied. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be late,” he added and turned to leave, but Jake held his arm.

Sunghoon grabbed Jake’s collar and punched him.

“What, are you going to kill me too?” Jake asked as he held Sunghoon’s collar.

Sunghoon was about to land another punch, but someone pushed him off Jake. “What the fuck is wrong with you!?” Y/n yelled at him.

“Stay out of my business. Next time, I’ll put a bullet right in your skull,” Sunghoon said before walking away.

6

During lunch, they all sat in front of Y/n’s mom’s convenience store.

“What has gotten into you?” Yura asked Jake.

“He really changed,” Jake said.

“Why would you even approach him after what happened yesterday?” Jay asked him.

“I wanted to clear things up, to see if he really lost his memory or if he’s just pretending,” Jake responded, eating his sandwich.

“Well, that was a dumb idea,” Y/n said.

“Is your neck okay?” Jungwon asked.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Y/n responded, smiling a bit at them.

“So, did you think about what Heeseung told you?” Yura asked, raising her eyebrows to tease her.

“I don’t like him,” Y/n responded.

“Oh, then I’ll take him,” Yura said.

“Yeah, do that,” Y/n said, chuckling.

[vampdes]

— “ALWAYS FROM AFAR” [yes, he used to watch you from afar, stuck in the shadows, behind a grimy desktop and glued to a chair—but now, now he had you in his hands. and he wasn’t giving you up anytime soon.]

GENRE. unhealthy fluff

PAIRING. stalker!male oc x male reader

CW. lowercase intended, neighbor!oc.

NOTES. oc’s name is ‘Issac’ for the sake of this story, might change it later? dunno!! also, this is split into two parts cause i didn’t wanna write so much!! enjoy regardless tho ๑⁠♡

PARTS. i, iii

three years, seven months, and seventeen days since issac started his unhealthy infatuation with a man who didn’t even know of his existence, which made is all the more sweeter! first impressions were important, very, very important. so, meeting his betrothed was undeniably important.

a coffee shop, perhaps? no, no. only for morning people, and [name] isn’t a morning person. hm, where else — what about his darling’s neighborhood? oh, oh issac could move in! well, that’s too forward. he’ll be [name]’s neighbor at first, then a friend, then a best-friend, then his boyfriend, then his fiancé, then his husband, then his life-long partner! oh god, issac’s heart flutters at the thought of being together with his darling!

issac squealed loudly into his hands, quickly running to his bed and hugging his specially made [name] body-pillow. he even had strands of your hair and a glass jar of your saliva, which he worships every night, thanking you for the wondrous opportunity to love you! and your saliva came from your mouth, the one you use to eat with and the one you will use to kiss him with, tasted so, so good. issac drools to the idea of you kissing him, tainting his virgin soul with your god-like imprint.

“we’ll be together,” he whispered to the pillow, imagining you were infront of him, “soon, very, very soon, my love. oh, i just can’t wait!”. before issac went to sleep with you [the body pillow] by his side, he took his nightly intake of your spit, letting it rest on his tongue before allowing it to slide down his throat. then, it was time for his daily cum tribute to you.

issac’s cock rested against his stomach, twitching and aching for your touch, and he was going to receive it. he placed the body pillow on top of him, gripping it with his arms and crossing his ankles to hold you in place. issac thrusted upwards, bitting his lower lip to cover his moans; his moans were too horrid for your ears to hear, so he wanted to shut himself up. “[name],” he whispered, eyes cloths as he continued his thrusts, only doing them quicker, “ffuckin’—”, his words were caught in his throat and now, his hips were moving on their own, chasing his orgasm. issac started to cry, the feeling of you on top of him was too much. but god, he was overjoyed.

“i– oh, oh god—”, he covered his mouth with his left hand, throwing his head back as euphoria washed over him. his thrusts finally stopped, his mind went fuzzy, and the idea of you could get him started again. cum painted his stomach and you, making a blush show on his face, “i’m so sorry, sweetheart! i, i didn’t mean to!”, issac quickly apologized, looking into your eyes hesitantly, “can—can i clean,, you?”, he didn’t want to be denied of his wishes, but if you said no— “i can? oh thank you! i’ll be good from now on, so, so good for you!”.

issac’s long, pink tongue started to lick the pillow clean, quite moans coming from him whilst doing so. “you taste so good,” he whispered, eyes fluttering shut, “you taste amazing.. i love you so much! so, so much! you love me, right? oh, you do? aaa! i’m so happy!”.

issac soon tucked the both of you in, you being little spoon and him being big spoon, and kisses your forehead, whispering promises of vows and devotions to you, regardless of anything you do! “i love you so much..”, he mumbled, eyelids fluttering short from exhaustion.

it was sunday morning, around 5? way too early to wake up, in your opinion. but the sound of moving trucks and shouting awoke you, which gradually turned into you getting out of bed and throwing on a robe to see what all the commotion outside was. with a cup of nestquik in your hand, you made your way to the door.

upon opening, however, you were met with the face of an angel—a literal angel. well at least he looked like one, and he smiled like one as well. he stood tall, 6ft something, and had curly black hair with highlight of neon green in it. he was a bit chubby, leaning on a dad-bod which made him all the more attractive. he adorned a pearl necklace and three tier star earrings, and the sun shined on him so perfectly. god damnit, if this man was your neighbor— wait, is he your neighbor?

“h–hello! i’m your, erm, neigh—”, the unknown man cleared his throat. he looked,, nervous? and, this might be a far fetch but, was he blushing? his cheeks looked exceptionally rosy. “neighbor?” you questioned, finishing his sentence. he nodded, holding out a plate of cookies which seemed to be freshly baked. “yes, your new neighbor! i, erm, wanted to introduce.. my—myself to–to you! since i should get to, erm, uh, know my neighbors..” he stuttering was relentless, but it made him so adorable in your eyes! aww, you could just stuff him in your pocket! he’s too cute, way too cute.

“well,” you started, taking a sip of your drink, “welcome to the neighborhood, i’m [name] and, asking for a friend, are those cookies mine?” you eyed the plate more than once while he stood in front of you, and he could tell, he was just too nervous! what if you didn’t like his baking? what if you didn’t like him? oh, gosh, he was starting to regret this decision!

“ah, yes—hah, they are! i forgot to,, tell you they were, erm, for you. apologies, i should’ve been more,, forward? i’m quite nervous around new,, new, uh, people, if you could–couldn’t tell already! and when i’m nervous, i tend to, uh, ram–ramble and my–my, uh, stutter becomes wor–se..!” his free hand waved around as he spoke, signaling how nervous he was and how he was just so, so fucking adorable! god, you definitely scored this time.

“thank you, neighbor,” you stated, grabbing his waving hand and placing it on the underside of the plate, “i’ll make sure to enjoy these, and i’ll come to you for more if i can’t get enough of them, okay?” your smile was so—aaa! he just can’t stop smiling when he’s near you! god, this was too much for him! but he knew he had to resist the urge to kiss you, you wouldn’t like that! and he needed your permission before doing anything of the sort! he wasn’t some creepy stalker or something, never! but, he did want to stay on your doorstep, he would if you allowed him to! but no, he knew he couldn’t, he unfortunately had boxes to unpack —but, wait, he didn’t tell you his name! oh god.. well, he could just tell you on your date!

it’d been a month, coming up on a year, since issac had moved in. you’ve been learning so much about your adorable neighbor! even his name is cute! although, you’ve never been inside of his house.. which isn’t really an issue for you, you just had too much curiosity inside of you.

ever since he had moved in, the two of you have been hanging out almost every week! it’d been the best few months of your life. the two of you even spent christmas together! laying underneath the hollywood sign! it was so, so sweet! you were a bit confused tho — was he lingering on the border of friendly or having a crush on you? it was rather confusing to say the least.

what wasn’t confusing was the fact that he had taken you to the most luxurious beach you had ever been to, and the fact that you had the time of your life. the two of you stayed there until the sunset had dawned upon the two of you, making the fact that it was time to leave known.

meanwhile, in your city’s airport, a man stood there, awaiting a taxi. simon was his name. he had his hair pulled back in a ponytail and had shades covering his eyes. simon was also dressed to the nines for a very important occasion: returning to his lover. he was just so excited! after a year of his departure, he was finally back! obviously, this was going to be quite the surprise for his boyfriend, he just couldn’t wait to see the excitement on you face! oh his lovely boyfriend you, he just can’t wait!

moving on, you and issac stood in your driveway in front of his car with the headlights being blindingly bright. sand was in your hair, loads of it at that, but that didn’t matter to issac — for he didn’t care how you looked because you always looked pretty to him, just as you did now.

“i had fun today.” you stated, wrapping your lower half with your towel. “me–me too! may–be we could do–it again some–sometime?” issac’s smile was bright, so obviously you couldn’t do anything but comply to his wishes. “yeah, we can. this weekend? that’s when i’m free.”. issac was confused. why were you busy this weekend when you were free every other weekend? and so he asked said question, just in a politer tone. “oh, well i have to spend this week with my boyfriend! have i not mentioned him before? i thought i did..”, you started to retrace your thoughts during the months you two had spent together, trying to see if you ever mentioned simon.

but issac on the other hand was freaking the fuck out.

a lover?! he’s been watching you so diligently, and you have never, ever mentioned a lover! and you haven’t told him before?! do you not trust him? what if his dreams don’t come true? what if ‘your’ simon is prettier than him? oh god, what’s going to happen to what you two have now?! issac doesn’t want this to be the end.. please don’t let this be the end! wait — wait, he could get rid of that scum for you! it’s obvious you didn’t love simon since you’ve been with him for your comfort. you’ve been with him to soothe your loneliness. you sought whatever you missed in your heart through him! so–so the two of you had to have something. no the two of you definitely have something. and that something has to be love! issac knows it is love!

but why are you with that simon? he couldn’t understand it.

“o–oh! okay, uh, then i’ll, erm—”, you can obviously sense the aggravation coming from him, but from what? was he in love? with you? “how about tomorrow? i’ll make time tomorrow okay? and then, we can bake!”. issac’s eyes were still down at the ground, but he wasn’t going to cry, he didn’t want to seem too weak in front of you!

“issac,” you started, cradling the sides of his face with your hands, “you can bake me those cookies you gave me when we first met, they were pretty good! okay? i promise, i’ll come over and we’ll have the time of our lives!” your smile was way too bright for him not to look at you. but aaa! his pout was too adorable for you not to smile! gosh, why couldn’t simon be more like him? if issac was your lover then—what? why were you thinking such thoughts?! oh could this be cheating?

“to—tomorrow, then? you–you’re coming over tomorr–ow, right?”, aaaa!!! him and his puppy dog eyes are just too cute! he’s too adorable for his own good, gosh! “yes, i’ll be over tomorrow! promise.”

© CREDITS TO ur1nonlydan. DO NOT PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR COPY MY WORKS.

[valleydean]

The Beginning

Story by: valleydean (emmbrancsxx0) Art by: sidewinder @hawkland

Rating: Explicit

Word count: ~118k

Tags/archive warnings: endverse, zombie apocalypse, graphic depictions of violence, blood and gore, drug use, animal death, Dean POV, Cas POV, Castiel's loss of angelic grace, newly human Castiel, jealous Dean, fear of abandonment, angst, rough sex, body horror, internalized homophobia, denial, minor Cas/OC, drugs as a coping mechanism, sex as a coping mechanism, suicidal thoughts, slow burn, slow build, codependency

Summary: One year ago, soon after Lucifer was freed from the Cage, Dean and Sam parted ways. Since then, Dean has been hunting on his own and, along with Cas despite his declining grace, searching for a way to prevent the apocalypse. When the outbreak of the Croatoan virus begins, Dean and Cas head to Bobby’s to plan their next move. On the way, as the contagion rapidly spreads through America, they must contend with the rabid infected, martial law, and humans who will do anything to ensure their own survival.

Preview:

Cas stepped to the other side of the door and turned around to face Dean. Dean stopped walking, looking forward at Cas and waiting for him to say anything at all.

When he did, it was, “In there.”

Dean pulled his brows together, his eyes flashing to the dark window panel in the door. The directional light of his flashlight bounced off of it, obscuring whatever was inside. The glass was a deeply black mirror.

His gut clenched, feeling like someone had shoved their hand into his intestines and was trying to rip them out. He slowly brought his face closer to the window. His transparent reflection stared back pensively. He looked beyond it, squinting and refocusing his eyes.

There were bodies in there—maybe three of four. He couldn’t really tell. Some of them were in pieces. Pools of blood soaked them, glinting like a knife in the moonlight that fought its way through the dirty windows.

Dean opened his mouth, about to ask what the hell happened.

Something slammed against the other side of the glass. A bloody hand. Dean jumped back, his shout echoing down the hall. It shattered the bubble of silence—so, too, did the banging on the glass as the man inside tried to beat his way out of the room. His dripping red fists pounded incessantly, leaving smears on the window. He was giving off animalistic grunts and hisses.

“What the…” Dean said, his heart still in his throat. He looked at Cas, demanding an answer. Part of him wanted to blame Cas, to ask him why the hell he slaughtered people and left them in a room. But maybe they weren’t people. Then, what? Demons? Monsters?

Something didn’t add up.

The man kept doing everything he could to bust through the glass. Dean noticed the paring knife clutched in his fist.

Cas didn’t kill those people.

“I led them here and locked them inside,” Cas said, as if he’d read Dean’s mind. “They killed each other.”

The lines of Dean’s forehead bunched up when he lifted his brows in surprise. There was something he was missing. It felt like a forgotten word on the tip of his tongue. A distorted memory from a faded dream.

“You’ve seen this before,” Cas supplied. “The Croatoan virus.”

The words hit Dean like a truck. Blanching, he said, “Croatoan? You mean, the thing that turns everybody into Jack Torrance?”

“No, the demon virus that triggers murderous actions in anyone who contracts it,” Cas corrected, and Dean was still too busy freaking out to tell Cas they pretty much said the same thing. Pressing his lips together, Cas turned his gaze on the door, and there was a subdued kind of despondency in them, like he was trying to control how much emotion he showed on his face. “It’s one of the signs of the apocalypse. This is Lucifer’s doing. He unleashed the Horseman Pestilence.”

“Pestilence,” Dean echoed, the word taking a long time to process. He remembered, thirteen months ago, when he and Sam cut the ring off War’s fingers. That had been the day he and Sam parted ways. Dean hadn’t seen his brother since. He’d only talked to him once on the phone, when Sam called him a few weeks later to tell Dean that Lucifer wanted him as his meatsuit.

Dean rattled his head, trying to shake loose any thoughts of Sam. He focused on Cas saying, “The entire town’s been infected.”

Dean remembered how quickly the virus spread—and how it spread. An infected person had to bleed into someone’s open wound. Once the blood mixed, that was it. Soon after, the victim would turn into a one-track-mind, bloodthirsty monster.

He glanced back at the doorway. The man was still standing behind the glass, looking at Dean like he was lunch, but at least he’d stopped pounding on the window.

“It isn’t the only one,” Cas continued. “There are pockets of the virus across America—possibly the world.”

How hadn’t Dean heard about this? His chest felt too small, like his ribcage was shrinking around his heart and lungs. “Where’d it start?”

“I don’t know.”

Coming this October to @deancashorrorfest

[mysticficti0n]

can't help but miss you

Tom Kaulitz x Y/n Y/l/n

anonymous- I have a request, obvi you don’t have to do! Maybe like a 2023 smut with Tom Kaulitz( him and Heidi are dating not engaged) Reader and Tom had a thing/dating when he was younger/ aka when he had the dreads and they reunite at a party and the reader is like so pretty like model type and she’s like maybe a little younger than Tom and when they meet each others eyes Tom can’t seem to stop looking at her and like Heidi asks him what’s wrong but he just shrugs it off and later on when Heidi went to go get a drink or something the reader walks up to him and they end up going to the restroom and the smut happens… and then Heidi runs into him after but reader alr left and shit. ALSO I LOVE YOUR STORIES OFC YOU DONT HAVE TO ANSWER THIS REQUEST

No I absolutely love this- the worst thing fucking happened I deleted the wrong concept (baso I had two of these like a story set out and a write up and I deleted the write up x_x) but I re-wrote it and hopefully its better than the OG one ❤️

(smut/fluff)

people under 16+ please don't interact, if you do it's not my problem you've been warned!

　　∞༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻∞　

warnings- cheating, toxic relationship, fingering, sex, ownership, hair pulling, swearing, rough/smut into fluff, drugs are mentioned

words- 4k

(oh this is your outfit btw just without the gloves- black n white dress)

The music was blaring as I walked into my old friend Gustav's 35th birthday party, I wasn't expecting a blow out like this but I mean when I herd Bill was in charge it didn't fully surprise me, I looked around and everyone was dressed in black and white as we were told on the invitations. I turned to Beth my sister who'd been invited too and she was already laughing and smiling with some women, I carried on through the venue telling her I'd catch up with her later on

I saw some people I recognised but I'm nearly 15 years older now, freshly 31 years old, I turned around a corner and saw the smiling faces of three of my old best friends "Holy shit! Y/n oh my god!" Bill ran over pulling me into a hug- his hugs I've missed for years "you look amazing!" he let go and I gave him a spin

"you two! look at this outfit- Bill you never dress badly I swear to god" he giggled grabbing my hand and pulling me to the group

"look who it is" Georg smiled pulling me into a hug and I held him back "its been so long!"

"I know, ten years... shit thirteen I think since we last saw each other" I shook my head in disbelief at how the time has flown by, when we all last knew each other Tokio Hotel was going on their biggest tour and I was just getting big in the modelling world- now I'm one of the top models and they still do crazy big tours around the world "Gustav! happy birthday!" I called seeing him come to me and hugging me like the other two

"hey- I didn't even know you were coming! thank you by the way" he smiled- he looked different- they all did but none bad "how's life?"

"pretty good, Beth moved in with me not long ago, mom and dad are doing well and jobs just keeping me busy, how about you I herd you had a baby! what the fuck" a smile creeped onto his face as he pulled out his phone showing me all the pictures of the small girl and how she's already so grown up "god she's beautiful"

"just like her mom" he chirped pulling a women forward "Linda this is Y/n, childhood friend" a brown haired women stepped forward giving me a smile- she was beautiful. Our conversation continued till I felt a tap at my shoulder and I I saw him for the first time since we'd split back in 2010, his hair wasn't in long black braids, clothes not baggy and lip piercing still there no- his hair was brown and blonde waved and around his head, in black slacks and matching button, lip pricing gone "holy shit! hey!" Tom's arms closed around me giving me a huge hug, tighter than the rest

"Hi, fuck it's been so long!" he hummed into my hair pulling away but his hands still holding my arms "you look amazing!" I smiled hearing his voice again

"you too! the hair is new" he nodded playing with the ends like a kid "my god I can't believe I haven't seen you guys since I was like 19, its crazy" everyone said a string of 'yeah' and 'fuck its been long' but were interrupted by a voice that called Tom away, I looked to see a tall blonde women who I immediately recognised, Heidi Klum

"oh Y/n this is my girlfriend- Heidi this is-" the women stepped forward and grinned

"Y/n Y/l/n right? I saw you in vogue, you looked gorge in that red lace" I nodded feeling flattered a model like her had seen me but then it clicked GIRLFRIEND?- I would never have expected it

"lovely to meet you- I've seen some of your shoots and you're beautiful, especially " she blushed grabbing my hand. we kept talking till my sister came over and pulled me to go get drinks and I waved to the group

TOM'S POV-

My jaw could've fallen off when I saw her, she was even more pretty then before and I didn't even know that was possible, her hair looked perfect around her face, longer than before, make up made her look sexier than I could even imagine, her eyes were lighter than the smokey eyes she'd do daily, and the dress- god how it went around her thighs and fit her curves perfectly

I couldn't help but feel my heart skip when I looked over at her, I had to stop, I have Heidi but... but I couldn't.

the night went on but I couldn't stop thinking about Y/n- every memory of her, remembering those feelings that were flooding back from 13 years ago- the time I made the worst mistake

-flashback-

"are you fucking serious? what are you talking about?" Y/n spoke staring at her boyfriend who was leaning on the kitchen counter staring at the girl, eyes had dark circles around them, lips looked dry

"we should break up-" Toms voice was strong but he was falling apart inside, hearing those words come from his mouth felt like stabs to his heart

"Tom what the fuck!" the girls voice got louder and she slammed her bags into the floor, Y/n had just got off work and was more then excited to get home- it was Friday meaning date night but came home to see loads beer bottles thrown in the bin on the drive and cigaret boxes hiding between them "what happened within the 6 hours I was gone. you.. you were saying how much you loved me this morning and kissing me and now- now you want to break up?" her voice cracked even mentioning breaking up, she loved him more than life its self and had for the last 3 years they'd been dating, he helped her buy her first house, spent Christmas and birthdays together- why did he want to end it? is all she could think of

"well I was wrong and- I didn't mean any of that shit, I don't fucking love you... I haven't for years" his voice slurred. Y/n thought she'd faint, years?

"you're drunk- ah don't even deny it I saw the bottles Tom" he rolled his eyes walking to the door where she was stood and went to open it "what are you doing?" her voice quivered "Tom what are you doing... Tom please what are you doing!" she started to yell as he just stood over her looking to the door "TOM PLEASE WHAT ARE YOU DOING!" she broke down grabbing his shirt and trying to pull him to look down "TOM! TOM LOOK AT ME! FUCK SAKE JUST LOOK AT ME TOM!" she screamed and the boy looked down seeing her, mascara running down her face, eyes full of tears and screams leaving her mouth but his mind was a blur with the mix of alcohol, tobacco, weed and the pure sadness he felt, he felt he was slipping from reality

"Y/n let go-" he spoke calmly "you need to let go of me" his voice began to shake as he tried to pry the girl off him

"NO! NO WHAT HAPPENED! WHAT DID I DO TOM PLEASE FUCKING TELL ME, DON'T JUST LEAVE!" Y/n poked her finger into his chest and again he just walked back into the kitchen and to the fridge pulling another beer out "stop drinking- just tell me!" she stormed to the kitchen and snatched the bottle from his hand

"you did nothing Y/n-" the girl argued back but he soon cut her off "Y/N I FUCKING CHEATED OKAY- I CHEATED ON YOU" he caught himself of guard screaming at her pointing his finger in her face and slamming his first onto the table, she cowered down but soon her eyes narrowed

"YOU FUCKING CHEATED!" with the bottle in hand the girl threw it toward the boy missing his face by inches she watched it smash onto the wall and explode "WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU CHEAT ON ME? WAS I NOT ENOUGH FOR YOU? DID I NOT GIVE YOU ENOUGH?"

"YOU WERE ENOUGH GOD DAMN IT YOU'RE EVERYTHING TO ME Y/N- I FUCKING LOVE YOU, I DON'T KNOW WHY I DID IT OKAY!" the boy shouted back but Y/n wasn't having it she started finding anything she could and throwing it at him, oranges, keys, glasses, soap bottles you name it, she threw it

"YOU PEICE OF SHIT DON'T TELL ME YOU LOVE ME! YOU WOULDN'T CHEAT IF YOU LOVED ME AND YOU JUST FUCKING SAID YOU HAVEN'T LOVED ME IN YEARS" her heart began to shatter at the sight of him to the point she had to hold on to the counter- the same counter they'd make dinner together on and celebrate birthdays drink together, he'd sometimes lift her onto it and they kiss for hours on end, Tom walked over to the girl grabbing her hand she wanted to let go but she couldn't not with the way her head was, the world was spinning and she felt she'd fall any second

"I'm sorry- Y/n I'm sorry I don't know why I did it please I- I can't even look at myself without feeling like I've destroyed the one thing I love so much- I still love you Y/n, I never for a second of any year stopped, I don't know why I said what I said, I never stopped loving you but I can't be with you- not after what I've done" tears fell from the couples eyes as they stood there

"you have fucked me over Tom- I fucking loved you, I'd do anything for you and I get this? you said you'd marry me, we'd have a family, grow old, watch life become better together ; why did you ruin this?" her hands pounded on his chest with every word "you have ruined me- everything was going so well and I want you to know what ever happens next- is your fault" her words stung like hell, he could only stare and regret everything he ever did with that women.. why did he let his old ways get in the way "fuck you Tom- get the fuck out of my house- I never wanna see you ever fucking again, come get your shit tomorrow when I'm not here and I don't want to hear from you again" and with that the two never spoke again, never saw each other again and the feelings just faded with the years

-end of flashback-

now I'm standing here watching her dance around to her old favourite songs and sing like she always did around the house- god I missed her so much. I still felt a pain when I saw her, when we broke up I saw her in magazines, tv, posters, everywhere and would need to smoke straight after and drink something strong to try pull my mind from her- Y/n Y/ln

"hun whats wrong are you okay?" Heidi tapped me, pulling me from my thoughts

"huh- oh yeah I'm good just looking for Georg" I lied seeing her nod and she quickly said she was going to the bar with some friends and walked away, my eyes drifted back to Y/n, laughing with people we knew back in the days but soon I realised she wasn't looking at them- she was looking at-at me. she waved of the group and came to me with the same grin I remember being in love with

"hey! are you alright you seem a bit- gone" I rolled my eyes seeing the girl laugh "or was my dancing just that amazing?"

"oh of course" I chuckled seeing her start dancing again "wow you could be a professional" she stopped taking a sip of her drink and placing the empty cup on the side "I can't believe its been thirteen years" I sighed seeing her nod

"yeah- last time I saw you was erm.. when we broke up" a awkward laugh escaped her lips "fun times"

"yeah- I wanna apologise for it- I... the way I did it was stupid I was drinking and smoking because I thought it would make it easier but fuck it only made things so much worse and- and I'm sorry Y/n" the girl looked to me, her doe eyes softening and a smile spreading back along her red lips

"thank you...you know for the next two years after we broke up I sometimes wondered if you'd come home or just come see me you know- In a way I'm glad you didn't but god I missed you" I felt my heart swell- I did Dave past her house arguing with myself just to go knock the door, or call her and say I needed her... but I could never bring myself to do it

"I wanted to but I didn't want a orange pelted at me" I played she giggled again hitting my arm "see you can't stop hitting me!"

"shut up Thomas" hearing my nickname nearly knocked me out "god I haven't said that in a while"

"...I fucking missed you" I caught myself of guard, her y/c/e shot into my gaze and I felt my breath hitch, but I wasn't some dumb teen anymore I wanted to tell her everything"I- I miss everything about us- the dates, your voice, the long nights we'd be up talking, making dinner, singing songs, dance at parties, hold each other, spend holidays together- fuck I miss our..." I halted deciding if it was right to say, Y/n gave me a small nod and with a single breath it came out "I miss our sex- nobody is as good or understands me the way you did and it sounds crazy but fuck its true- I miss you Y/n- I regret everything" her eyes seemed glassy but everything I said was true

"I- I miss it all too, no one is like you- nobody treats me like you did, I- I miss you fucking every day I try to ignore it but 15 years I still think about you, I'm happy we moved on but I want you back... as stupid as that sounds" it was like the world only had us in it- my mind could only focus on her I wanted to kiss her- god kissing Y/N was like a dream come true for me. Every time we locked lips, my heart would flutter and my stomach would get butterflies. I loved the way her soft lips felt against mine and the way she'd close her eyes and melt into me, like nothing else mattered in the world. I could spend hours just kissing her and never get tired of it. It felt like a beautiful escape from the real world, where all that mattered was us and the moment we shared. Even when we had to part ways, the memory of our kisses would linger in my mind and make me smile.

in a fast move I caught her lips in mine, hands wrapping around her waist it was like I was 16 all over again, Y/n wrapped up in my arms and kissing her any chance I got, for a moment she was hesitant but I felt her mold to me, her hand tangled in my hair- I'd never felt her grip there but it felt so right. Thankfully we were in the corner of the room and as the night got later the only lights that were on were the ones on the dance floor so we weren't in view of anyone unless they really looked, my lips moved from her lips to her neck- I nipped just below her jaw, I remembered everything about her body, every dip, curve, spot. A sweet moan filled my ear making me only hungrier for her "fuck- Tom people might see us, be careful" hearing my name fall from her lips took me back. I felt the girl pull back and look down, my eyes followed her

"shit- I..I'm sorry" I saw the tent formed in my slacks brushing against her thigh, my eyes met with hers again a smirk forming on her lips. Without any more words we slid away into one of the many bathrooms in the building through the corridor and down the stairs "god I've fucking missed you baby-" she smiled pulling my face to her, foreheads hitting, she pressed one last kiss to my lips and sat on the bathroom counter, shoving all the soaps and towels to the floor.

It had been 15 years since I last touched her let alone had sex with Y/n. I was nervous, excited, and scared all at the same time. I was worried whether I would be able to please her, whether I would be able to pleasure her, whether I would be able to make her feel the same way I had made her feel all those years ago when I could make her the most beautiful mess in the matter of minuets. I was scared of disappointing Y/n, of not being able to give her the same pleasure I had given her before. But despite all these fears, I was eager to be with Y/n once again, to experience the same feeling that we had experienced so long ago. I was ready to explore a new kind of connection with her, to explore the depths of our newly rediscovered lust. I was ready to fuck Y/n and have the pleasure that I had been missing for so long.

my hands wondered up her thighs onto the hem of the dress "can I?" she nodded lifting herself slightly so I could get the dress over her ass, I pulled it up revealing a small lacy black thong "fuck-" I groaned feeling my self wanting to rip it off her, she lifted her arms allowing me to get the dress fully off and I watched as her tits fell free , they were still my favourite eye candy all these years on "god I've missed those" I lunged forward taking her one boob into my mouth, swirling her nipple with my tongue hearing her soft noises escape her lips, her hands tangled themselves into my hair as she pulled me closer

"Tom- please i.. I need more" I pulled away looking to her face flushed red, I let my hands fall to her hips and play with the thong strap "please" she whined grabbing my hands and putting it to her heat, there was a small patch in the fabric- she was already soaking

"god still so needy hm?" she nodded "so wet for me-" my words came out in a almost moan and I watched her trying to roll her hips on my hand, I pulled away and shoved her hands back, I leaned down grabbing her legs and pulling her closer to me, my chin resting on her bare stomach "want me to take these off?" she hummed getting closer to me, I pressed a kiss to the inside of her thigh and grabbed both sides of the cotton ripping them apart

"TOM!" she yelled eyes widening at her panties in two "I-"

"its fine baby, I'll clean you up well so you wont need these, can be our little secret" her face went red again telling me I did a good job as I stuffed the fabric into my pocket "now- let me see that pretty little pussy" her legs parted and she was leaking already- she was beautiful, I let my ring finger slide through her folds hearing small whimpers string from her mouth "good girl, you like me touching you?"

"yes Tom- fuck I've missed this please- please I need more, don't tease pl-please" I laughed at her words pressing a small kiss to her head before letting my finger dip into her heat "SHIT-"

"shush- don't want people hearing you up stairs" she covered her mouth with her free hand and closed her eyes- I could've came at the sight but I knew I had to wait, I brought another finger into her feeling her tighten around me "good girl- you want more don't you?" she nodded opening her eyes that were already tearing up

"I need- I need you.." hearing her voice so quiet was music to my ears, she was so god damn hot "ple-" I sped up my pace adding a third didget and a cry spilled from her "I..I'm gonna- TOM!" I ripped my fingers out and let my mouth do the finishing part- tasting her for the first time in so long I hummed at the flavour "shit shit shit" she came, hands tightening around my shoulders

"you taste even sweeter doll" I grinned coming back up with my chin slick with her "think you can take more?" her mouth opened sucking for air "mh?" my hand cupped her jaw, thumb soothing her lips, I pulled away and brought the fingers that had once been in her, with no hesitation she took them into her mouth, cleaning her of me with a purr

"yes- I can please" with that I hand my hand back and unbuckled my belt, letting my slacks fall to the floor followed by my boxer, Y/n came closer unbuttoning my shirt reviling my chest, I pressed one last hungry kiss to her lips before lining myself up with her heat

"tell me when to stop-" she nodded her head and gently I pushed into her- the feeling taking me back, so warm and she fit so perfectly around me "ugh- fuck you never changed" a dopey smile appeared on her lips

"okay- you can move" she propped her self up on her hands, my hands holding her hips, I pulled out agonisingly slow "Tom please- don't tease me, not after this long" she breathed, eyes staring into mine. I snapped my hips out and back into the warmth quickly "SHIT" she screamed

"good girl- take it Y/n, I know you can doll come on" I spoke between thrusts, I grabbed her legs throwing them over my shoulders going deeper into her, a high moan flooded the bathroom as I pressed against her g-spot

"fuck right there babe- right there" hearing my old pet name sent me into overdrive, I pulled her off the counter and pressed her against the granite, ass slapping again my hips and I slammed myself into her, I watched her face in the mirror- tears of pleasure forming in her y/c/e's, mouth wide open "Oh my god- I forgot how big you- you are" a proud grin plastered my face

"look at yourself baby- watch how good I fuck you" her eyes opened wider as she looked at her self "look at you angel taking me so well ,cock feels so good in you Y/n" I whined pushing myself as deep as I could

I let go of her hip where my hand perfectly fit and twisted her hair into a makeshift pony-tail, pulling her head back, my lips in the shell of her ear "look so pretty like this baby- god I missed you" I pressed kisses to her hair line still watching her in the mirror, tits bouncing at ever push "so perfect for me... this pussy is all mine- nobody will ever fuck you better than me huh?"

"no- shit no, this pussy is yours Tom- all yours" I felt my cock twitch and my legs go weak "fuck... Tommy I'm so close" I let her hair go, pulling out and twisting her around so I could see her face, she grabbed my cock lining it back up and I sunk back in

"cum for me babe- fuck, just like tha-" before I could finish my sentence I felt her tighten around me, squeezing me In all the right places, her eyes squeezed shut and a sob good enough to be a porn star erupted from her throat and soon I felt myself cum into her, pumping her full, our liquids running down my cock and on her thighs

"fuck yes- feels so.. good" her voice was a whisper as she clung onto my shoulders "good-so good" I could tell her mind was blank, as we both came down from our high I stared to her face, eyes closed as she caught her breath- I missed her, not just because of the sex but being able to walk up and wrap my arms around her, talk to her on the phone the whole night on tour, give her gifts and spoil her, be there when she cried

"I love you" I spoke pressing a kiss to her cheek "I love you so much- I miss you Y/n" her eyes opened, head nodding at all my words

"i... I know Tom but- we can't, you- you know that, you have Heidi now- I'm just a memory; but I love you- and I want you to know that" she panted catching her breath, her hand cupped my jaw as she pressed a small kiss to my lips, where her favourite piercing was

"i... I don't want you to be a memory Y/n-" she wrapped her arms around me and I couldn't help but hold her again tears pricking my eyes "I don't want to lose you again"

"it's over Tom- but I'll always be here, I'll always love you but we can't be together" I nodded my head, peppering her face with kisses and finally to her lips; it wasn't hungry this time- passionate, longing and meaningful, painfully as I knew this was the last time

after we cleaned up and hugged one last time we made our ways out, going our separate ways once again- I knew she'd be going home- back to the house where I ruined everything.

I went over to the bar ordering a shot of vodka and taking it quickly, I felt arms tangle around me and rush of hope filled me "y/-"

"darling where have you been?" Heidi kissed my cheek raking her hands through my hair

"just in the bathroom" i spoke seeing her nod her head- only if she knew

∞༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻∞　

[icequeenbae]

Boy Next Door (m) Ch.2 | BBH

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Neighbor AU, slow burn, hurt/comfort, fluff, smut

Warnings: Baek being the neighbor we’re all dreaming of, harassment (nothing graphic), a bit of body image/ insecurity, MC sucks at relationships, explicit content, unprotected sex

Word Count: ~18.5k (total), 5k (pt.2)

Summary: Your neighbor Baekhyun has been a pleasant acquaintance since you moved into your current apartment almost a year ago. Could he also be… a perfect match?

© Please do not copy/ post on other platforms without permission.

Chapter Masterlist [ongoing]: Pt. 1 > Pt. 2 > Pt. 3 > Pt. 4 (fin)

Author’s note: Okay, I am slightly late to throw this party since the follower count has hit 800 a while ago... BUT NOW IT'S HERE!!! 💜💜💜 And be ready for a bumpy ride with this one. All goes under the cut as it starts off with smut hehe

As usual I'd like to remind you that the more active you guys are, the more motivation I have to update frequently. I'm easy to reach through my asks and I check all of your comments and reblogs~ In any case, I hope you like the first half of this story (just 2 parts ahead!) 💫

Network Tags: @bbh-net  @k-vanity  @ksmutsociety

Baekhyun’s grip on your waist was tight.

It felt secure and confident enough, so worries about him having to hold you up were long gone from your head. Your usual shyness seemed to have dissipated, and in its place came utter shamelessness.

‘Fuck, Baekhyun-’

Your high-pitched moan made him grunt. He wasn’t very talkative of a lover, but he was invested in making you come. The two of you barely made it into the apartment, starting out at the front door and only just stumbling into the hallway. Where he had you against the wall now.

‘Please don’t stop…’ You begged, finding his grown-out hair to tug on.

Baekhyun’s hips jerked forward, nailing you into the wall, and he groaned into your neck. Barely able to hold on to his shoulders, you swayed your own pelvis to meet his thrusts. Your breathing was ragged, and the deep, messy thrusts had you both on the brink of orgasm.

‘Ooh, Baekhyun, I’m- Amph!’

Your loud wail broke into reality and woke you up.

~

Later that day you were telling your best friend all about your miserable existence.

‘I hate my life, Yu…’, you whined into the phone.

‘That’s understandable.’

‘Yuki!’

‘Don’t ‘Yuki’ me, I still can’t believe you didn’t drop your panties for that hot neighbor of yours.’ She huffed in the middle of lecturing you. ‘Your subconscious is doing well, showing you what could’ve been.’

‘We barely ever hung out! I couldn’t exactly jump him.’

‘You’re neighbors! Who cares about the ‘three dates’ rule? He’s been to your get-together, you’ve been at his place… eating ice cream.’ You could hear the eye roll.

‘So? That doesn’t mean we’re dating.’

‘Dating-shmating. Didn’t you just mention that you’re horny as fuck for Baekhyun?’

‘So what? I don’t even know what he thinks of me. What if he has a girlfriend?’

Your friend’s laughter filled your ears.

‘He literally cornered you at the door and told you to come back whenever you craved for your favorite ice cream flavor. If that’s not saying, ‘Let’s fuck, Y/N,’ I don’t know what is. I’m actually willing to give him extra points for this. That’s the type of smooth that you need.’

‘I need?’

‘Yep. You’re pretty gentle, you know? He probably got that when he invited you to his house, and you raided his fridge instead of his bedroom.’

She was always in your face about being too slow to open up. You’d had this conversation before, and her stance on it was unyielding – you needed to have a steady male presence in your life to gain confidence for a healthy relationship in the future. But you didn’t think you were made for such arrangements; you were quite conservative about dating.

‘He wasn’t inviting me for sex. There wasn’t anything suggestive of that!’ You countered, not sounding particularly confident.

‘You mean he didn’t make any physical contact all night? Well, that’s not solid-’

‘He did, but it was-’

‘Wait, what?? He did?!’

‘It was nothing!’ You quickly took it back, slapping yourself on the lips.

‘You know what? You don’t even have to tell me. I already know that he wants you, and you want him. I also know you’ll continue dragging it out instead of having sex with the gorgeous boy next door.’

‘That’s actually another reason why I’m reluctant. What if Baekhyun’s not into me? Or in a relationship already? Or what if it ends the usual way? We aren’t just neighbors; we’re the only people on our floor. How awkward would that be?’

Your bestie sighed, probably remembering your past relationships. She, of all people, knew precisely the terms you broke up on and how stressed you were about crossing paths with any of your exes again.

‘It does have the potential to be awkward,’ Yuki pointed out. ‘But also… can you imagine how fun it’s gonna be? You’re always grumpy about having no time for dates and stuff. But you live like 5 seconds away from each other. The universe has outdone itself, you ungrateful woman!’

She fell silent after your huff, and you called out her name to make sure she was still on the line.

‘Sorry,’ she said, not a tiny bit embarrassed. ‘I just imagined having Hoseokie as my neighbor. My body is jealous of you, Y/N. The amount of sex you could be having!’

‘Ugh. I haven’t gotten laid in eternity, yet you keep talking about sex.’

‘Sex is great, you should try it. I can’t even remember what you were like when you had it.’

‘Just as grumpy as now,’ you grumbled. ‘Don’t even count on that making me any more sociable. Once a homebody, always a homebody!’

‘Oh well, at least I’d be happy knowing your body is socializing plenty with your clothes off.’

‘Why would you think about me with my clothes off…’ You gasped.

‘Yah!’

‘I’m hanging up.’ You announced, pressing the red button.

It was your fault for telling your friend about your love struggles. You knew how she was, and you still asked for her opinion.

She texted you immediately after you had one-sidedly ended the call.

Ki-yaah | Rude

Ki-yaah | At least invite the hottie for dinner. Reciprocate his gesture, if you know what I mean

Ki-yaah | But this time don’t wear sweats!! Wear a dress! Something simple

Ki-yaah | And easy to remove;)

You | You are…

Ki-yaah | Helpful?

You | That’s not what I was gonna say, but let’s go with that…

Ki-yaah | So you will??

You | Maybe…

Ki-yaah | Gosh, why are you so resistant!?

You | Idk ㅠㅠ Stop yelling at me ㅠㅠ

Ki-yaah | If you’re really not feeling this guy it’s fine, don’t listen to me~

You | I’m scared of the opposite, Yu… I think I’m starting to ‘feel him’ way too quickly. He’s been friendly once or twice, what if I’m overreacting?

You | It’d look pretty pathetic if I made moves on him, and he didn’t even have any of that in mind…

Ki-yaah | You’re way too hard on yourself, girl. And you still cannot tell when a guy is genuinely interested in you…

Ki-yaah | Remember that party… I was drunk, but even I noticed the way he was looking at you!

You | Exactly, you were drunk! He was probably trying to memorize what I looked like, nothing more

Ki-yaah | Yeah right. Cause when a guy can’t keep his eyes off of you, it’s just him memorizing your features for a composite sketch in case you break the law

You | Stop rolling your eyes

Ki-yaah | I’m glad you noticed!!

Ki-yaah | I wish you noticed men giving you the eyes more often than you notice my eyerolls!

Ki-yaah | Just do it your way. Invite him for a snack, wear something moderately nice, be a tiny bit suggestive and see where he takes this

Ki-yaah | Also keep your counter clear, what if the sparks start flying in the kitchen? Some men get turned on by women cooking, you know? And since you’re a great cook, you might just get your answers quick and efficient~

You | If I could hang up on this chat…

Ki-yaah | Did you write this down?

You | Bye ><

Even if that could be considered decent advice, you still couldn’t muster up the courage to take initiative like this. So all that was left for you was to wait until some random occasion, pleasant or otherwise, brought you together again.

***

It was late.

It was way too late for you to be out, especially grabbing snacks in the supermarket. But you just couldn’t bring yourself to go to bed. You’d been too anxious from overthinking everything in your life recently, from your professional worth to relationships. Getting lost in reflection, you realized you desired someone’s attention and affection. You wanted someone to be close with, not just physically but also emotionally. Intimately. It wasn’t about simply being bored or lonely – any of your friends was a phone call away in cases like that. What you needed was different, and it was something that wasn’t available to you at this time, or, perhaps, ever. So, you decided that a quick run to the nearest store for something to munch on was a great idea.

Spoiler alert – it was not.

‘Damn, why did I buy so many chocolates?’ You puffed into your mask, frustrated with yourself.

Having a sweet tooth came with consequences, and you were really trying to watch your weight since you’d been stress eating for weeks (months?) due to your work-related and other problems. Now was the time to get your diet back to normal, not to maintain the harmful habits.

‘I shall bring those to work if I don’t want to eat all of them myself,’ you thought to yourself, using your code to walk onto the territory of your apartment complex. You were almost home since, thankfully, the supermarket was only a few minutes’ walk away.

The concierge was away, which you noted since you’d usually greet him whenever you came back. You simply headed towards the elevator this time, still consumed by your thoughts. Before you could get close enough to press the button, someone grabbed your wrist, startling you.

‘Excuse me!’

Turning around, you faced the stranger, who decided to stop you in your tracks so unexpectedly.

‘Yes?’

He stared back at you, and you at him. Did you know this guy? Was he new in your building? It was relatively new, so many people were moving in these days. You did, not too long ago. But he didn’t look familiar. Or trustworthy, for that matter.

‘Can I... help you?’

Moving your shoulder back you tried to break free from his hold, but didn’t succeed. This was strange.

‘You’re pretty,’ he suddenly said matter-of-factly. ‘Can I have your number?’

At this point the encounter had become creepy. You went out wearing non-flashy clothes, zero makeup and a mask. How could he even tell whether you were pretty or not? The fact that he was still physically holding you in place escalated the situation.

‘What?’ Dumbfounded, you blinked at him.

‘You’re pretty. Exotic. Give me your number, we can chat.’

Ah, that. You hadn’t been called exotic in a while, and you realized what type of guy that he was.

‘Please let go of me. Kindly.’ You asked, looking around to see if there were any security cameras pointed in your direction.

‘Give me your number first,’ he argued with a strained smile.

The contact became even more unwelcome.

‘Let go,’ you repeated firmly, jerking your arm even though your wrist began to hurt.

‘Oh, come on. I just want your number; I’m not asking for your apartment passcode! Don’t be difficult.’

You were being difficult? This guy would piss you off if he wasn’t getting scarily persistent.

‘I said, let me-’

‘What’s going on?’ A familiar voice, an octave lower than usual, rumbled from behind you.

Turning back, you realized the elevator doors were open, and your neighbor walked through those in long, determined strides.

‘Is there something you want?’ Baekhyun grabbed onto the man’s wrist. ‘Hands off.’

‘Hey, I’m just asking for some contacts, chill.’

The atmosphere seemed to get even thicker with danger. He wasn’t letting go of you, and Baekhyun seemed like he wouldn’t let it fly.

‘You followed her here in the middle of the night, trespassing, by the way, to ask for her number?’

‘What, I can’t be friendly to a nice girl?’

Baekhyun suddenly moved, tapping the intruder on the throat with his palm and using the brief daze of his opponent to unclasp his fingers from you and twist his arm behind his back. Pushing his face to the wall harshly, Baekhyun held him there for a few moments.

‘Let go of me! You’re gonna break my arm, you psycho!’

Your neighbor didn’t seem fazed by the screams.

‘Listen carefully, you fucking punk. I’ll give you ten seconds to make yourself scarce before I alert the police. And if you ever see her again – run the other way. You’ll experience more than a broken arm if you lay a hand on her, you got me?’

The guy only yelped, swearing and begging for mercy at the same time.

‘Do we have an understanding?’ Baekhyun pressed before letting him go.

‘Ye-yes! You’re crazy!’

As soon as he was left alone, your attacker stumbled towards the door and quickly ran out of your building, still holding onto his arm pathetically. Meanwhile, your vision was entirely blurred out, eyes only focused on the broad back in front of you. You were surprised when Baekhyun turned around and slowly walked towards you, looking into your eyes inquisitively.

‘Y/N-ah, are you okay?’ He asked in a much softer voice. ‘Are you hurt?’

His hand touched your reddened wrist gently, and you shuddered.

‘N-no. I’m okay. Th-thank you.’

Baekhyun’s eyes searched your face for clues and seemed to have found some. He took another careful step towards you and cautiously wrapped his arms around you. The action was much needed, and you were glad he did it. His hold made you feel grounded and secure, and you were clinging to him instinctively, searching for comfort.

‘It’s alright. He probably scared you a lot,’ he murmured, voice soothing. ‘But you’re safe now. I’m here.’

Belatedly, you realized that you were sniffling quietly into his chest the entire time, grabbing a handful of his shirt.

‘I’m sorry,’ you whispered, pulling away. ‘I didn’t mean to cause you-’

‘Y/N,’ he instantly cut you off. ‘You didn’t cause anything. But preferably don’t walk around this late all alone.’

Baekhyun cupped your face and wiped your tears with his thumbs.

‘I live just next door. Tell me if you need company, or if anyone bothers you again.’

He paused to look down and bent forward to pick something from the floor. The plastic bag from the store that you dropped during the struggle.

‘Let’s get you home now,’ he hummed, guiding you to the elevator.

‘But-’

‘Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything.’

Baekhyun delivered you onto your doorstep in silence.

‘Do you have ice to put on your wrist for bruising?’ He inquired, and you nodded timidly.

Not that you weren’t thankful, you were just still a bit shocked, and embarrassed too.

‘Y/N-ie,’ Baekhyun suddenly patted you on the head like a little girl. ‘Are you sure you’re gonna be okay?’

‘Y-yeah. I just need to… I just need a moment.’

He nodded for you to press your passcode in, and held the door for you before giving the bag with your snacks back.

‘Text me if you need anything,’ he stressed. ‘Okay?’

‘Mhm.’ You simply nodded.

You couldn’t exactly say that he was what you needed right now.

‘See you, Y/N-ah.’

***

The incident greatly impacted your (usually) pretty peaceful life. And it actually pushed you towards interacting with Baekhyun much more often – from the occasional small talk whenever you ran into each other, to the actual… hangouts? You swiftly went from acquaintances to friends.

In the span of a few weeks, you became a frequent guest at his home. One could even say that the negative experience turned out to be the catalyst of your relationship. You’d grown much closer afterwards. So comfortable with each other, that you found yourself in his living room in front of the TV every other day.

‘Yah, why didn’t you pause while I was on the phone? I can’t trust you to give me the short version, you take longer than if we actually rewatch it!’

‘What? I can be pretty laconic if I need to!’ You threw a carrot slice at him.

You had so much popcorn lately that a healthier equivalent was more than necessary.

‘What’s this, a bunny attack?’ Baekhyun threw it in his mouth and crunched on it. ‘Get back to where I left off.’

‘Alright, oppa.’

He drove you crazy with his bossiness sometimes.

‘That’s right. Respect your elders,’ he teased.

‘Why do I put up with this…’ Rewinding the episode, you scratched the fluffy head in your lap. ‘Mongryong-ah, I only endure this for you!’

Baekhyun looked down at his corgi.

‘Wah, living your best life, aren’t you, old man?’

‘You didn’t have to mention his age! You’re still adorable, Ryongie,’ you stroked the dog’s back.

‘He likes you too much,’ Baekhyun noted. ‘This grandpa usually isn’t this mellow with strangers.’

‘I’m not a stranger!’

‘With new people,’ he corrected, laughing at your exasperation.

‘I like him too. It’s mutual,’ you hugged the corgi, stretching his long body along yours, and rubbed his belly.

‘Wow. Literally a pile of mush, disgusting.’ Baekhyun said, looking at his happy dog.

‘You’re just jealous ‘cause he’s never this cute with you.’

‘Or I’m jealous ‘cause I want a belly rub too,’ he retorted, finally pressing play.

‘All you have to do is ask,’ you thought.

Unfortunately for you, Mongryong actually lived with Baekhyun’s parents, so you couldn’t use him as an excuse to come over that often. Even though your neighbor was diligently informing you about his pet’s visits. You really should’ve read between the lines, but even if you realized he did like you… It wouldn’t have changed much. You were just not the type to make the first move, so you just went with the flow. And if there was no opening for you to spend time with Baekhyun, you just… didn’t.

But the universe had its own ways of pushing you.

~

‘Why isn’t it working?’ You grumbled, pressing the numbers on your keypad lock. ‘Please, don’t tell me…’

An odd thought had crossed your mind. You hadn’t changed your batteries since you’d moved in, so what if those had completely drained? Today, of all days! When you went out to buy some cereal and ended up running home from the store under pouring rain?

‘No, dammit!’ You cursed under your breath.

‘Trouble with your lock?’ The voice from behind made you jump.

‘Oh god, when did you get here?’

‘Just now,’ Baekhyun hummed. ‘You look stressed. Are you locked out?’

‘Yeah. The battery died… Very timely. What do I do…’

‘You need a 9V.’

‘A what?’

‘A 9V square battery,’ Baekhyun laughed. ‘Which, I assume, you don’t have.’

You stared at him blankly, looking absolutely clueless.

‘Come here,’ he grabbed your wrist and led you to his door. ‘I’ll go to the store and get you one. But you need to change, or you’re bound to get sick.’

It wasn’t like you would say no – you were shivering already.

‘Here, you can wear this for the time being. And a towel,’ he handed you a small pile as soon as he left his bedroom. ‘Use a hairdryer for your hair.’

‘You really don’t need to-’

‘Go, you’re freezing. I’ll make a quick run to the store and back, and you warm up in the shower.’

‘Thank you,’ you managed to say while he was nudging you into the bathroom.

You locked the door behind yourself just to be sure, although you trusted that Baekhyun wouldn’t try anything. Still, taking a shower at his place was kinda intimate… and exciting. Maybe because it was the first time you’d ever done it in another man’s home?

‘Get ahold of yourself, Y/N-ssi,’ you told your reflection in the mirror.

The color in your cheeks seemed too bright. Taking your clothes off was strangely a big deal, so you hurried up and jumped into the shower quickly. Your body welcomed the warmth, so you spent at least ten blissful minutes under the hot water. Baekhyun’s wash smelled nice, and you stood there for a few minutes, thinking about how familiar the scent was. You’d seen him fresh out of the shower, so you knew this smell even though it was less concentrated on him. And now you had it all over yourself.

‘Stop wasting someone else’s water,’ you scolded yourself for your dreaminess and finished your routine quickly.

The thought of you smelling exactly like Baekhyun made you squirm. Were you a pervert? This shouldn’t have been this thrilling. Continuing to scold yourself, you got dressed.

‘Gosh, this shirt is long,’ you mused, trying to see the fit in the mirror. It reached your mid-thigh and was the best Baekhyun could offer of his own oversized clothes. You daydreamed for another minute about how broad and chic his shoulders must look in clothes like these.

‘I really do need to get a grip.’

Another ten minutes later, you finally stepped out of the bathroom. You found Baekhyun in the kitchen, moving stuff around on the counter. Certainly, with how long you’d been in the shower… he was back already.

‘Oh, Y/N, you’re done already?’ He asked as soon as he spotted you. ‘Sit down, I’m making you some mint tea.’

Mint tea was actually something that you brought into his life. Baekhyun wasn’t into tea – like almost any Korean, he preferred coffee. But once you’d introduced some variation into his beverage selection during one of your visits, he grew to appreciate the new flavors.

Instead of taking a seat, you came closer to see how he was brewing his tea. Baekhyun was very focused, and you couldn’t help but smile.

‘You didn’t have to do this,’ you murmured, sounding softer than you expected.

He looked down at you, eyes wandering around your face for a few seconds before reaching your mouth.

‘It’s no problem. I don’t want you to get sick,’ he said, turning away and licking his lips. ‘Here.’

You accepted the cup from his hands and took a sip.

‘Oh, that’s good! Thanks!’

Baekhyun nodded, watching you have more.

‘Did you get the V.. battery thing?’

‘Oh, about that… They didn’t have any. But don’t worry, I ordered express delivery online, should take a couple hours tops.’

Catching your uncertain expression, he suggested moving to the living room.

‘We can watch something or just chill.’

Although you agreed, you knew there was no way to pay attention to anything on the screen. You were acutely aware of the fact that you were in Baekhyun’s home, wearing his clothes, smelling of his shower gel, and sitting on his sofa. And the person responsible for your unstable control over your feelings was slowly catching up.

‘You sure you’re okay, Y/N-ah?’ He asked, leaning in to touch your forehead. ‘You seem a bit distracted and quiet.’

‘No. I mean, yes. I mean- I’m fine,’ you blurted out too quickly.

He stayed close, examining your face in great detail.

‘Your cheeks are red,’ he said, making you hold your breath. ‘And you’re pretty without makeup. As usual.’

You swallowed, afraid that your voice could betray you if you answered. His lips parted as soon as his eyes fell on your mouth again.

‘You’re always pretty,’ he said, distracted by your lips.

Without realizing it, you cocked your head slightly to the side, inviting him to kiss you. He was slowly getting closer, and your mind blacked out for a second.

When the lights in your head turned back on, you were full-on making out. It started slow initially, then it led to you two viciously attacking each other’s lips. Just the sound of your kissing made you shiver, and the pleasant tickle of butterflies in your belly accompanied this madness. You hadn’t experienced it for so long, it seemed new, and strong, and addictive.

Baekhyun didn’t waste any time, hands wrapping around your unsuspecting form to hold you against him. You gasped for air, but that was a short-lived pause. His tongue slid between your lips mischievously, and you could only grunt. You’d be down for anything he suggested right now. It was hard to tell how much time had passed while you were kissing, but you relished every second of it. His warmth, his skill, his gentle touch… He was way too perfect, and there was no way you could stop at your own volition.

But the doorbell disrupted your craze within a second.

Both of you stared into each other’s eyes, breathing heavily before he finally moved to get off of you. Sitting up, you tugged at the hem of your shirt, unable to recall just when he got on top of you. Not that you minded, anyway.

‘Ah, why did I order express delivery…’ Baekhyun muttered frustratedly, closing his eyes. ‘Give me a minute. No, twenty seconds.’

Nodding, you chuckled at his impatience. You felt exactly the same – eager to pick up where you left off. Although you weren’t the type of girl who’d give in to her desires easily, you’d been tiptoeing around your devilishly handsome neighbor for way too long. What happened just moments prior was solid proof of how weak you were for him. It was the first time ever you dove into a makeout session so fanatically that your memory was spotty afterward.

But the worries suddenly replaced your giddiness. What if he thought… that you were into that sort of thing? What if he now believed that you casually came into men’s houses and jumped them like a hungry lioness? Was it too needy of you?

‘What the hell are you doing here?’

The undertone of Baekhyun’s voice instantly got your attention. He wasn’t pleased to see whoever it was at his door. Could there be any trouble with the delivery?

‘Aw, and I was under the impression you’ve been missing me like crazy, babe.’ The flirty female voice answered.

Oh no.

Oh hell no.

Did he… have a girlfriend?!

The thought was like a cold shower to your body. Of course. An attractive young man lives in a fancy apartment complex and drives a luxurious car… How could he ever be single?

You were so naive.

And now you were about to get caught.

Springing up from the sofa, you darted towards the door and then froze. You couldn’t walk out of the living room without being seen. This was a nightmare, your worst nightmare coming to life.

‘I signed off on your delivery for you. Can’t you be grateful for one second, Baekhyunie?’

Her voice seemed closer. She was definitely inside the apartment. Maybe she’d believe your explanation that he was just helping you out? Solely friendly neighbor stuff? Oh gosh, you were totally done for.

‘Just get out.’

‘Why, are you hiding something?’ She asked, a bit less playful this time.

‘No.’

‘Are you sure?’ You could hear her taking a step.

‘Didn’t you hear me? Get out.’

There were a few seconds of silence that made you quiver with anxiety.

‘Is there someone in there, Baekhyun?’ She repeated.

‘Is it any of your business?’ He gritted. ‘Where do you think you’re- yah!’

The noise from the hallway could only mean one thing – she was walking right this way. Your mind couldn’t develop anything slightly useful at that point, so you simply stood there. In front of the sofa where you’d just almost… yeah.

She stormed into the room, pausing when she saw you. She was taller than you and very, very skinny. If you’d ever met her outside, you’d think she was a model. She wore a black ensemble that you could only guess was some hot-ass designer, and her hair was perfectly styled. She didn’t blink her faux eyelashes once while scanning you head to toe.

‘Are you freaking serious?’

The way she scrunched her nose, almost in disgust, made you shift uncomfortably. You’d definitely tell her off for this, if not for the shame you felt for being caught red-handed as ‘the mistress’.

‘Are you serious? Stop walking around like you own the place.’ Baekhyun fired back from behind her.

‘I go to the States for a few months, and then you’re snatched when I return?’ She huffed in disbelief. ‘Or is she paid to come here? Judging by the attire you were saving up. And I wouldn’t wear anything revealing with legs like that.’

Your mouth opened, but before you could even respond, your neighbor grabbed her forearm.

‘You really are delusional. Get out of my house.’

He dragged her back to the door, and she continued to yell at him.

‘Are you kidding me, Baekhyun? I can’t believe you’d kick me out to stay with some hooker!’

He stopped abruptly, turning to face her.

‘My mother taught me not to swear in front of ladies. But I hope you shut your fucking mouth right now. I’m only warning you once.’

He shoved her forward towards the door and cleared his throat.

‘Get your shit and leave. I’ll have a word with our security about how you got in.’

‘Fuck you, Byun. I’ll walk these heels over your balls when you realize you’ve made a huge mistake!’

‘Please, spare me your sick fantasies.’ He rolled his eyes, swinging his door open. ‘Out.’

The door slammed shut as soon as she left, and Baekhyun sighed loudly. He ran his left hand through his hair, still on edge, and pressed a button to turn the display on to see your floor. When she was gone, he sighed again, this time in relief. And you… felt so confused. And ashamed. And humiliated.

When Baekhyun turned around, it struck you on the spot. You couldn’t face him right now. Suddenly you felt small and exposed, and all you wanted was to be alone. So, you rushed back into the room to grab your phone.

‘Y/N-’ He began, walking after you. ‘Wait.’

You avoided his touch as you busted out of the room.

‘Where are you going?’ He asked as you slipped your feet into your wet shoes. ‘Stop.’

His hand caught your elbow, and you shivered as his skin burned yours.

‘Please, don’t follow me. I need to go.’ You asked, facing the door.

‘But-’

‘Baekhyun.’ You pushed.

He didn’t say anything for a moment. You heard shuffling, and then he put something into your palm.

‘You’ll need this.’

The battery.

Masterlist

A/N: Happy (belated) Lunar Year to everyone btw! And also huge thanks to all of you sweethearts who take time to read my stories and leave me long kind messages and comments, I appreciate you so much ❤️❤️❤️

[wavesmp3]

8000 layers of inyun

jeonghan x reader, joshua x reader - inspired by the movie past lives - wc: 6k - warnings: mentions of alcohol, like one curse i think - a/n: reader should be completely inclusive, i.e. not adhering to the background of the main character in the movie.

[first hello]

when you met joshua for the first time, it was in the grassy backyard of a house in long island one mile away from the beach. at a rickety, white table with spots of black showing up beneath the layers of paint. it was three glasses of red wine in, two hours after you had laid eyes on him, and one hour after everyone else had headed inside for sleep. 

when you met joshua for the first time, you had told him about inyun. how even brushing by someone’s shoulder on the street or locking eyes with a stranger on the metro meant there was something there between the two of you in a past life. he looked amazed at the notion. you thought he looked quite pretty. “that would mean we had something together in a past life, wouldn’t it?” he had asked. and even then, you could tell–he’s such a writer. there was a story already rising from the dark corners of his mind. you had just nodded. and told him about all the layers between two lovers, and about the 8000 it takes to take one’s hand and whole-heartedly decide you want to marry them. 

you don’t really remember joshua’s cheeks turning pink at the line. what you do remember is the sky changing colors. you remember how golden he looked under the string lights. you remember leaning into his face, almost falling forward, bracing yourself with a hand on his knee. 

you remember kissing him for the first time. 

*****

[jeonghans coming] 

joshua is already cooking dinner by the time you come home. you stop in front of the gray door, noticing for the first time in a while the scratch in the top corner from the massive yellow armchair you stuffed through the door even when it refused to fit through. you smile at the scratch, stretch your arm out to finger over the light brown mark. how long ago was that now? was that before or after you got married? you inhale. the air smells like wet concrete and basil. joshua forgot to turn on the exhaust fan, didn’t he? 

you don’t remind him to do so once you finally find your keys. instead you slip off your old, faded sneakers, drop your keys on the counter in the lime green dish you made in a pottery class two years ago, and greet him in the kitchen, kissing the side of his chin and reaching over his head to turn the exhaust fan on. he kisses your forehead as an apology, or at least he tries but you’ve already moved and his lips end up catching on the corner of your left eye. you wash the day and the grime off you, washing away the train and the throbbing in your feet. you meet him again for dinner, at the table you call your dining table and your home office. he brings over two plates of the pasta. you bring the wine. 

“you know jeonghan.” it doesn’t hit you then that that’s the first thing you’ve said to him since you left that morning.

joshua squints. his eyes, his eyes, his eyes. they were the first thing you noticed about him. the first thing you fell in love with. “yeah. your childhood sweetheart.” this he says with a teasing smile. you smile back. his smile was the second thing you fell in love with. 

“he, uh, emailed me earlier today.” you shift in your stool. “he moved out of his parents’ house, i think, and is between jobs. he said he’s going to be visiting new york soon.” 

there’s a stillness in the air, then. a shock beneath the table that’s curling around your calves and inching up your arms.

joshua, though, despite how well you know him, despite your knack to see through every emotion he feigns, still tries to nod it off. “oh. when is he coming?”

“in two weeks. “

“that’s soon.”

“i know.”

“are you going to see him?” there’s no mask of emotion here. everything in joshua’s mind and heart you can read in his eyes, except that reading doesn’t mean understanding and five years of marriage doesn’t mean you know someone’s every thought. you don’t know what to say. you don’t know what he wants. you don’t even know what you want. all you know is jeonghan’s email. you spent two hours staring at it this afternoon. jeonghan, as you knew him, was a straightforward guy. he explicitly said in the email what he wants: to spend a day or two with you while he’s here, as much time as you can spare, show him the city you moved to when you turned 21. show him the country you moved to when you were 13. but beneath the straightforward request feels like a million subliminal ones. like he wants you to prove to him that you’ve made a life worth living here. like he wants to gallivant around new york telling you about a country that used to be home and asking you what would have happened if you didn’t go all those years ago. 

but jeonghan isn’t like you and joshua, he doesn’t make reading into subtext and writing a 100 pages about it his job. so you tell joshua what you decided on the train ride back. 

“yeah, i think i will.” and with the way your stomach twists, it feels like a confession.

*****

[first goodbye]

your first goodbye with jeonghan is when you’re young. it happens on the last day of school for you before your family’s big move to the states. even though you only found out a couple weeks ago, you knew this move was a long time coming. maybe that’s why you didn’t say anything when your parents told you it was happening. maybe that’s why you just went to your room and started packing. 

jeonghan’s been in the same class as you your whole life. his whole life too. and for your entire lives you’ve been making the same walk back home from school together. today is no different. and yet, isn’t it? it’s the same roads, yes, the same stairs and the same shops on the way. but the air is different, it smells like home. it smells like you already miss it. and you haven’t even left yet. 

the walk is almost entirely silent. 

the roads diverge towards the end, into a smaller path that leads to your home and the main road that jeonghan takes to get to his. you take one step into the path and stop. jeonghan stops too. he stares. you stare back. 

(you don’t realize it then, but it’s the last time you’ll see him in person for almost 20 years. one of the last times you’ll even speak to him in around 7. it’s the last time you’ll ever stand on this street, and one of the last times you’ll breathe this air. most importantly, it’s the last time you’ll ever be this young.)

your first goodbye with jeonghan isn’t much of a goodbye. it’s him asking when you leave. it’s you saying sometime tomorrow. it’s him frowning, patting your shoulder, and saying, “be well, and don’t cry over maths anymore.”

*****

[second hello]

you round the corner by the candy shop and walk inwards to the park. you used to live around here. but god, where haven’t you lived? you used to come into this park and watch people. the man towards the south entrance that always sat on the middle bench. the tourists walking up and down and around looking amazed and bored and helpless. tompkins square park used to be your favorite park in new york, but walking into it now, you can’t really remember why you liked it so much. you wonder why he chose this park specifically to meet in. did you mention it once on a skype call? does he think you still like it? or has he figured that you’ve already fallen out of love?

you see the back of his head before you see him. and for a moment you get an instantaneous rush of every feeling there is to feel from seeing him again, here, in a park you thought you loved. but it’s not the park and it’s not the city that makes your entire body go numb. it’s seeing him. jeonghan. jeonghan. jeonghan. it’s seeing him for the first time in–you don’t even want to admit to yourself how long. 

but the instantaneous rush ends, and your body and blood come back to earth and back to this park you hate, when he turns around and faces you facing him. 

and there are no words to be said. 

there used to be oceans and countries and cultures and decades standing between you and him, but somehow now, all of that has compressed into four squares of broken concrete. you were never very good at maths. jeonghan, the one who comforted you whenever you cried over it, knows that best. but even you know that there is no way 20 years can turn into 20 feet. so much has changed. more than could possibly be encompassed in any greeting. it’s indescribable and overwhelming. it’s you and him and the whole world. there are no words to be said. 

so you hug him instead. 

*****

[ferry]

it takes almost a full hour for the pure shock of seeing each other again to wear off. there’s so much joy and excitement between the two of you that for a couple minutes all you do is say ‘wow’, throwing the word back and forth like two kids playing catch. 

the first thing on your itinerary was already decided by jeonghan over email: seeing the statue of liberty. so, you and him board the ferry together, asking how his family’s doing and telling him about yours. 

“your husband,” jeonghan starts, turning slightly towards you in his seat on the ferry.

“joshua.” 

he nods, mouthing his name silently. “how did you guys meet?”

“we met at this writer's retreat thing. we were kind of… i don’t know–together–i guess, while we were there, and funnily enough, it was only on our second to last day there that we realized we both live in new york. and then, it was only when we got back that we started dating.”

jeonghan’s lips make a small ‘o’. “he’s a writer too?”

you nod. then smile.

“is he good?” this he asks with a hint of mischief. 

you scoff. “you think i’d marry someone who isn’t any good?” 

he just shrugs and smirks. an action you’ve seen him do a million times before. when you were a kid, it pissed you off. when you were 21, it made your heart flutter. now, it makes you feel like a stranger. it reminds you that all he is is somebody you used to know. 

“what?” he laughs, covering his mouth embarrassedly. you didn’t even realize you were staring. 

“you’ve just been a kid in my head for so long.” you shake your head, a smile haunting your lips. “it’s so weird seeing you all grown up.” 

he hums. “i feel that too.”

“are you and-” you leave the space blank there. social media had told you a lot, but you don’t remember it ever telling you a name, “still together.”

he grimaces. you wish you didn’t ask. “no. we broke up some time ago.”

jeonghan doesn’t say anything more about it, but honestly, it’d be more shocking if he did. even as a kid, he took things at face value, not going any deeper into contexts and double meanings. he isn’t too shy to ask what you mean, nor is he too shy to say it. that’s just who he is. 

“do you have pictures from your wedding?” jeonghan asks, pulling you out of your thoughts. you fetch your phone out of your pocket and show him your favorite picture from the event. you and joshua didn’t really have much money at the time of your wedding. it was a small, courthouse wedding with a dinner afterwards with just your families. the picture comes from when you were walking out of the courthouse together. with the small bouquet, joshua had purchased that morning, and the simple white dress you had thrifted a couple weeks prior. you were so happy, walking out of that building hand in hand. you were so hopeful. 

“you look very nice.” jeonghan tells you quietly, staring at the photo. you mutter a ‘thanks’. he then surprises you, bringing a hand up to the picture and wordlessly zooming in on your face. his gaze bounces between you and your picture. finally, looking up, he says, “you look so young.”

*****

the ferry stops for a bit near the statue, everyone rushes towards the corner nearest to the monument to take a photo. you offer to take his. he accepts, awkwardly smiling at first, fidgeting with the strap of his backpack, but then eventually, lightening up, posing cutely and requesting different angles. 

while the ferry heads back to manhattan, he carefully examines all the photos you took. it reminds you of when he told you about his photographer friend in college who took photos of him for fun. 

“why didn’t you want to keep talking then?” you ask abruptly. 

somehow, he knows exactly what you’re talking about. your second goodbye with him. the four minute skype call. 

he looks taken aback. he doesn’t look at you. “it didn’t really feel like you were giving me much of a choice.”

it’s not what you wanted to hear, but you don’t really think there’s anything he could’ve said to mend a ten year old wound born from a petty 21 year old desperate to love and be loved. 

“i held that over you for a long time. i was a bit mad.”

he responds immediately. “you said goodbye so quickly. i was a bit mad too.”

you frown. “should i be sorry?”

he half laughs at that, shrugging and finally looking at you. “we were kids.” 

and of course, that was all that really needed to be said. 

*****

[second goodbye]

your second goodbye with jeonghan happened when you just moved to new york. it was a short period of time marked by running between 10th and 14th to catch your train and eating too many meals at the ukrainian place in the basement of 7th. 

the two of you had found each other again online. a friend request turned to messaging turned to skype calls every evening and sometimes even in the morning. and somehow, someway, despite the years between your last words with him, the two of you were able to pick up right where you left off. he told you about home and about all the classmates you hadn’t thought about since you left. you told him about america, about your new life, and about new york. but mainly you talked about how weird it was to see and talk to him again and about how alone you felt here.

the goodbye comes when your laptop crashes and it takes a week before you’re able to talk to him again. it comes after you spend the week devastated, crying in the middle of the street over a dropped bacon egg and cheese. it comes when your laptop is finally fixed, when you call him again, and when he doesn’t even seem worried. 

“do you plan on coming to new york?” it's the first thing you say when he answers the call, two days after your laptop was fixed. 

he looks like he just woke up, hair crumpled and bent in places it shouldn’t be. between a yawn he says, “what?” 

“i can’t leave new york right now. so if you don’t plan on coming here, there’s no point of this anymore.” 

he doesn’t say anything for a moment, looking off to the side of his camera. you stare into it. you had been practicing this conversation all day. you knew what you were going to say. and in your heart, you knew what he was going to say too. 

all he ends up doing is smiling awkwardly and patting down the back of his head. “do you want me to visit?” 

no, you think with a sigh, you just want more. 

“i think we should end this. i need to focus on becoming a writer, and you-“ 

you falter here. he what? 

he nods. you nod too, just as an excuse. 

“okay.” 

“okay.” 

and the call ends in 4 minutes. 

*****

[first confession] 

the bar you’ve chosen to take him to tonight, is a small, irish pub on the corner of a street you spent half your 20s in. you feel so much older than you are, when you get off the subway, point to an old red brick building, and tell jeonghan that you used to go to school here. 

his gaze lingers at that building. you try not to notice, but you do. 

“remember inyun?” he says after you get your drinks. his martini, your beer. 

you laugh at him. “it’s actually how i got joshua.” a memory flashes in front of you: the golden glow of the string lights and joshua’s lips on yours for the first time. you can’t tell if it's the beer or the memory that makes your entire body flush with warmth. 

“that game we used to play as kids,” jeonghan says, excited, “we should do that here.” 

you smile. how many days did you and jeonghan spend sitting next to each other on the train and making up a past life for every two passengers?

“okay.” you point to the two girls sitting at the bar, one of them on their phone, the other resting her head atop the counter. “what about them?” 

jeonghan turns to face them. “classmates.”

you make a noise of disapprovement. “sisters.”

he mimics the noise. “no way.”

“look.” you say, gesturing to the way the girl that was on her phone places her free hand on top of the other’s head. “it’s just so…” here you lose the words for it. the girl on her phone bends down and places the smallest kiss on her friend’s head. 

“familiar.” jeonghan finishes. and when your gaze falls back to him, you find that he’s already looking at you. the game somehow feels different than it did when you were kids. 

jeonghan inhales sharply and nods his head towards a boy and a girl playing billiards in the corner. “what about them?”

you take a moment to observe them. these two seem less familiar with each other. there’s a lot of extra laughing, a lot of awkward pauses between turns. “coworkers.” you finally say.

“strangers.” jeonghan counters. “like she took his order at a food place that he left a bad review for.”

you give him a look. he shrugs. 

the game continues. you do the two bartenders which you both agree must have been lovers. you do the group of boys, in business casual sitting two tables over. jeonghan says they were all dogs in the same shelter. you say they were in a band together. 

the game continues until the only two people in the pub who you haven’t made up a past life for are you and jeonghan.

jeonghan gives you a half smile. “what do you think we were in a past life?”

this was always how you and him ended the game. you wonder how many past lives the two of you have created for each other by now.

you think for a moment, eyes flicking between the bartenders who were lovers and the friends who were once family. “two people squished next to each other on the train.”

jeonghan laughs at that one, knocking his head back and accidentally kicking your leg under the table. he shakes his head. “a bird and the branch it sits on.”

“a keychain and the ring it’s attached to.”

“a celebrity and their bodyguard.”

“enemies.”

“friends.” 

something snags on your throat at that. 

you laugh, not meaning for it to sound as forced as it does. “but we’re that now.” 

a silent question hangs in the air: are we?

“why’d you come to new york?” you ask him. you already said your goodbye to him. years ago, on a skype call that felt akin to a breakup. seeing him and facing him again was not something you had expected to ever have to do. and the thing is, it’s not just facing him. it’s facing your past, and it’s facing all the different ways he’s known you. 

jeonghan doesn’t seem surprised that you asked, but his eyes do this…thing as he looks up from the glass. this fearless, shameless thing that makes you feel things you wish you didn’t feel. “i came to see you.” 

you don’t take your eyes off his. what is it they say about eyes again? windows to the soul?

“but you and joshua.”

you flinch. 

“you guys have those layers of inyun.”

“all 8000,” you whisper back to him, like the world might burst if you spoke any louder.

he nods solemnly, hopefully. “maybe you guys have even more.”

he looks at the bar. the warm light paints him in colors you’ve never seen him in before. he’s so much older than you remember. he’s so much more real than your last skype call. 

(your memory of this moment fails you. you can’t remember which one of you it was that asked)

“how many layers do we have?”

a number hangs off the tip of your tongue. but the world will burst if you say it outloud. so you don’t. for the world, for yourself, for joshua. 

*****

[you were right]

“you were right,” you tell joshua when you come home that night.

“about what?” he meets you in the kitchen, exhaust fan whirring in the background. 

“he came to see me.” 

and even just the admission of it, of the entire day you spent with jeonghan, has you exhausted. 

you hug joshua. he sets the book that was in his hand down on the counter and lets you. he feels so warm next to your heart. he feels so at home. and you, in your apartment, in his arms, feel split in two. 

carefully, you ask him: “are you mad at me?”

“of course not.”

“do you want me to cancel tomorrow?”

“you haven’t seen him in forever. you should go.”

you exhale into his shoulder. 

“i mean, it’s not like you’re going to run away with him or anything, right?” he jokes. 

“please,” you scoff, “you know me.” 

“i know you.” he laughs, and you feel it throughout your entire body.

“i know you.” he repeats. 

you hug him tighter. 

“you’re it for me.” joshua tells you quietly. “you make my life so much bigger.”

you can’t tell if it’s the confession or the exhaustion or both that brings you close to tears. “what if something happens?”

he doesn’t ask what you mean; he just repeats himself. “it’s only you.”

*****

[not touching but almost]

you meet jeonghan the next morning at the hoyt-schermorhorn street station. he asks how you slept. you say well. 

you stand in front of the sliding doors, holding onto the pole. he follows suit, his hand right under yours. staring at his face, you search for which features of his have stayed the same and which have changed. 

“your eyes.” you say at the same moment the train screeches. he leans forward, mostly to hear you better but also to stay upright as the train sways. his fingers inch towards yours. “your eyes are still the same.” 

he looks embarrassed for a moment. then smiles. you do too. 

the train stops. the signs outside read: ‘fulton st’. 

you look back at him. “i can’t stop smiling.” fuck the train, you’ll repeat it until he hears what you have to say. 

he doesn’t ask you to repeat yourself this time. he just laughs. “why?”

you shrug, smiling again, and feeling entirely, wholly like a kid. “just ‘cause.”

his fingers inch towards yours again. you don’t even think he means for it to. you look down at your hands. close but not touching. not touching but almost. 

the train stops again. ‘chambers st,’ it reads this time. you both get off.

*****

[a whole part of you i’ll never know]

there’s this memory that bounces around your head from time to time. it was before you and joshua had gotten married, in your old apartment, the one in hell’s kitchen above the thai place with the light up dragon that played pop music late into the night. 

so with an old miley cyrus song floating up through the air and in through the open window, joshua tells you that there’s a whole part of you he’ll never know. 

you don’t deny it at first. you turn in bed to face him, cup his cheek in your hand and flinch at the stubble growing in. you kiss him and tell him, “you know me better than anyone.” 

“but i-” he hesitates here, mouth opening and closing like he can’t decide what kind of conversation he wants this to be. “it’s like there’s this whole portion of your brain that will always be out of reach. like i can see it there in the distance, but i can’t get to it.” 

“just ask. i’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

“it’s not that.”

“what is it then?”

“he knows that part.”

the song goes quiet. you can hear a drunk person vomiting. you can hear your heart beating. breathlessly, you say, “jeonghan?” 

and joshua, joshua, joshua. he looks like he regrets it. “you, just, you always talk about how you reinvented yourself when you moved to new york and how different you used to be. but what if that wasn’t the first time?”

you shake your head. “i’m not a kid anymore.” 

“i know.” and against all odds, joshua smiles. “sometimes, i just wish i knew you when you were.”

*****

[second confession] 

the day, in all honesty, is some of the most fun you’ve had in a long while. you and jeonghan get dumplings and rice noodles in chinatown and eat them in columbus park while watching people play ping pong. he wants to go shopping in soho and so you take him to your favorite spots. you wait with him in line at the famous bakery on lafayette only for him to hate the pastry he got. and in the evening, you and jeonghan meet up with joshua to get dinner near your apartment. 

“so how do you like new york,” joshua asks while walking to the restaurant. 

jeonghan nods slowly. “not bad.”

your husband’s eyes widen. he was born and raised in new york. it’s the only place he’s ever known. “not bad?”

jeonghan shrugs. “it’s a little smelly.”

joshua just chuckles at that. “you get used to it. what have you seen so far?”

“yesterday i saw the rockefeller center, times square, and central park. and then,” jeonghan looks at you, “we met in tompkins square park, and we took the ferry to see the statue of liberty.”

“you know i’ve never actually been to the statue of liberty.” joshua confesses, lightheartedly. 

“really?” jeonghan asks dumbfounded.

“really?” you mutter to the ground. 

joshua shoves his hands in his pockets and nods. 

jeonghan looks at you, disappointed, and jokingly says, “what are you doing? you should take your husband to see it.” 

jeonghan doesn’t really wait for a response, but you still give him a half-hearted laugh before putting a hand on joshua’s elbow, and quietly, almost shamefully asking, “have we really not gone?”

the conversation has moved on without you it seems. while laughing at something else jeonghan’s said, joshua shakes his head ‘no’.

the rest of the dinner goes well. the food is good, and the conversation flows. joshua heads back home once it’s over to get work done, and you and jeonghan go to your favorite bar in the area, a posh sort of place with dim lighting and fancy cocktails. the two of you grab seats at the bar.

“what’d you think of joshua?” 

jeonghan looks happy, a smile gracing his face for a moment. he tilts his head, and you almost miss the way his smile turns down. “i didn’t think liking your husband would hurt this much.” (almost). “i can tell he really loves you.”

“i love him too.” you say, just to fill the space. but what you really want is to beg him to take it back. beg him to say something else. anything else. say he hated him instead. 

“yesterday, you asked me why i didn’t try to keep talking back then.” jeonghan continues. “the truth i learned here is that it wouldn’t have mattered how hard i tried even if i did. you were always going to leave because you’re you. and i liked you because you’re you. and who you are is someone who leaves.”

you start to refute, but stop yourself because… he’s right. the last two times you parted ways with him, it was because of you. you started the goodbye. you were the one who left. 

“but for joshua,” jeonghan says, eyes scanning across the bar, staring at every bartender and every customer before finally, finally, landing on you, “you’re someone who stays.”

and it turns you inside out. 

“i’m sorry if i hurt you in the past, jeonghan.”

jeonghan doesn’t falter. he never has. “i’m not.”

*****

[last confession, last goodbye, last hello]

you walk jeonghan to the uber from your apartment. the address has always been a little finicky; the uber will only stop two blocks down. the long ones. not that that matters much. nonetheless, you and jeonghan walk it slowly, pausing for a couple seconds each time the wheels of his suitcase get caught on a cellar door. 

“thank you for emailing me.” you tell him, lifting your chin up slightly. “i’m really glad that you did and we got to do this.

he nods. “i’m glad i did too, but i was actually a little unsure about it.” 

this surprises you. the sentiment yes, but also the way he says it. tucking his hair behind his ear, and squinting his eyes at a stop light, refusing to meet yours. jeonghan is the surest person you’ve ever known. 

something catches in the back of your throat. something foul and hopeful. something that makes you feel young. “why?’ 

he shrugs, looks up at the second deli you’ve passed and mouths the name of it. like he’s practicing it, memorizing the name, the location, the guy sitting out front, and the cat that always lingers in the back. why does he care so much about the little things? 

“i didn’t know if you’d want to see me again.” he finally says. “the last time we spoke was so long ago. i wasn’t sure if you had left me in the past for good.” 

you hit the end of the second block where the uber will be picking him up soon, right under the ice pop shop that you always walk a little slower by on the hottest summer afternoons. across the block the walking signal is red–a memory comes back to you: your first summer in this new apartment, your first month being married too. you standing on this side of the block and joshua standing at the other. waiting for the cars to pass, waiting to greet each other in the middle of the road. you can feel that day in the bottom of your stomach. you remember exactly what joshua's hand felt like in yours. 

“i think i did.” you tell him. “but i don’t regret doing this with you. it was like meeting you again, and meeting the version of myself that last saw you too.” 

you turn away from the signal and look at him. he looks sad almost. “sometimes i still think of you as that kid i used to walk home from school with.” 

you remember what you used to tell joshua: how you reinvented yourself when you moved to new york. you remember what he used to say back: what if that wasn’t the first time. and so, you reach into your past and try to remember who you used to be before you moved to america. 

“i haven’t been that kid for a long time now,” you frown, watching jeonghan’s pupils dart back and forth between yours, “but they still existed. they were still real.”

the uber pulls up. jeonghan puts his suitcase in the trunk and opens the door to step inside. and with one foot in the car to the airport and one foot planted on the street you call home, he says, “what if this is just another past life and we’re already something else in another?”

the only thing you can manage to give him in response is a nod. you don’t like to think about what if.

he smiles. and you feel something break apart in your heart.

“i’ll see you then.”

in another life, jeonghan is more than just a series of goodbyes. but in this one, he gets in the uber, and you don’t imagine seeing him again. you don’t think you will. because for the first time in this life, you're not the one that left–he was.  

you make it halfway back down the two blocks back to your apartment when you see joshua. it just so happens to be in front of the deli jeonghan had committed to memory silently beside you. you inhale deeply; it feels like the first breath you’ve taken since jeonghan landed in new york. joshua is 8 stoops away from you. 

at 5 you think about when you met, the writers retreat in long island, the most beautiful serene place you swear you’ve ever been and the stupid pick up line you said about inyun.

at 4, you think about his eyes, his eyes, his eyes, and the line he wrote about them in an essay that was published 3 years ago saying that they're the only part of the nervous system that's exposed, a direct line to someone's head and heart. was he right? did you look into jeonghan’s mind tonight? have you been staring at joshua's heart? 

at 3, you think about all this talk about past lives. and you think what if it’s not about your past lives with jeonghan or with joshua? what if it’s about all the past lives within you? 

at 2, you think about the kid you left in a country that doesn’t feel like yours anymore. 

and at 1, you think about jeonghan. 

he stops right in front of you. staring at you staring at him. your whole world feels bigger than it ever has before, and your heart, in response, splits in half to fit him inside. you feel that something in your throat rise and boil. 

“i’m sorry,” you finally say, before falling into his arms. the sob that’s been waiting in the bottom of your soul for the past 20 years comes bursting out of your throat. you cry into your husband's shoulder. you feel the weight of all your past lives and all your future ones like they aren't in the past or in the future, like they're now beside you begging you to imagine what could’ve been and what was. 

joshua holds the back of your head. he doesn’t say anything. he doesn’t need to. it’s all been said before. instead he kisses the corner of your eye and takes you home.  ****************************

a/n: absolutely adored this film and it simply has not left my mind since i watched it over a month ago. and so, i did what i do best and wrote a fic based on it lol. i hope i scraped even half of the complexity the movie has. if you've seen the movie, i'd love to hear your thoughts about it or your thoughts on this piece. as well as if you haven't seen the movie! but if you haven't seen the movie, i highly recommend you give it a watch. it's such a quiet, gentle film that will crawl into your heart and claim it as home.

[painted-bees]

part i

  Hitting a cafe during rush hour wasn’t Raf’s definition of a fun idea, and he was well practised in the art of saying ‘no’. Yet, for some reason or another, that skill failed to find him when the wide-eyed little Portasound busker insisted on treating him to a coffee.   

  The streets outside Granville Station were abuzz with traffic of all kinds. The wide sidewalks were, at least, accommodating to the amount of pedestrians that relied on them during the city’s busiest times of day. The same could not be said for the roads as cars rolled slowly forward, bumper to bumper. Still, the ambience was manageable despite all the bustle. Only the hissing, honking noises of transit bus breaks would coax the occasional wince out of him in their random, unpredictable intervals.

  The little Portasound busker, ‘Magritte’, kept up beside him in lock step. She hadn’t stopped talking since they began their walk together and, in honesty, he preferred it that way. She was a disheveled little thing, more than a head shorter than he was. Her manner of dress was as sloppy as the thick bundle of curly, dark red hair that flopped loosely atop her head. Her grey sweater was several sizes too large, covering her to the knees. With sleeves that hung far past her hands if she didn’t scrunch them in her palms. Black leggings were tucked into knock-off ugg boots whose soles had eroded so severely on the outer edge, Raf was concerned she’d roll an ankle if he made her walk too briskly. She smiled so vehemently as she spoke, that her lips rarely closed around consonants, making it difficult to understand her at times.

  “–so when my dad was like, ‘you can stay here and work, or you can move out and do your music stuff’, I moved out. That was like…oh–almost three years! I was eighteen. I just turned twenty-one today!” She accompanied that last sentence with a joyful little skip that caused Raf to turn his head and watch her.

  “Well, happy birthday.” He exhaled a small laugh. “Vancouver’s an expensive place to live, but house hunting here probably already gave you the full story on that.”

  “Rent’s insane,” Magritte echoed his small chuckle. “But the weather’s way more agreeable in the winter, which is what I’m after. And the music scene! I heard there were tons of musicians in Van, and look–I’ve already met two in the first few hours of being here!”

  “Oh, you’ll meet more.” The way he said it made it sound more cautioning than he intended and he diffused it with a snort. “Guess the music stuff must have paid off after all, if you can afford a place in the city.”

 There was silence between them and Magritte chewed the nail of her forefinger for a moment. “It actually hasn’t, I’m not a professional musician by any means. I’m just really good at finding a lot of short term work and stuff. Sometimes it’s music related, but not often enough to call it a living.” 

  “Mmh.” Raf glanced down at her. The bounce in her step had vanished and he watched her chew on her lip beneath a knitted brow. With a shrug he said, “You sounded good in the station, all things considered. You stopped, you listened, you came in at appropriate moments, you improvised really well. The pieces I played weren’t really…great for busking…and demanded a lot more than what your little keyboard could reasonably provide, but even your rests were composed and natural. You didn’t drop off abruptly any time the melody brought you past the range of your keys, you played into it.” He smirked. “I’m not gonna lie and say we did a great justice to Paganini today or anything, but I was very surprised by what you were able to pull off. I dunno, seemed like the chops of a professional to me.”

  That brought the bounce back into her step, though she continued to chew on her lower lip. Raf was content to see her spirits buoyed at least somewhat by his sentiments. He hadn’t embedded a single white lie into his assessment.

 They arrived at the cafe of his choosing; a popular spot, very near to the station, named Caffe Artigiano. The outside seating was full up with patrons, but Raf hoped the inside would be a quieter space to sit anyways. Opening the door, he followed Magritte in. It was busier than he would have liked, but he couldn’t have expected differently, considering the hour. Still, one thing he appreciated about the place was that it did not play music. Only the sound of numerous quiet conversations filled the air. Raf gravitated towards a freshly vacated table in a far corner, and Magritte followed him to it. Her gaze hung on the coffee menu that loomed above the counter. 

He waited for Magritte to pick her seat before gently offloading his violin case onto the seat across from her. “I’ll go order. Was it a latte you said you wanted?”

  “Actually…” She let out an indecisive little sigh. “A mocha, I think. I want…choco. Oh, but–!” She dropped her duffel bag onto the ground before unzipping a side pouch and pulling out the twenty dollar bill that had found its way into her upturned ball cap at the station. She held it out to him. “With this! Please?” 

  He hesitated before taking the bill from her. “Yes, ma’am.” There was no point in telling her that the twenty had been his before it became hers. The thought was what mattered.

  The line at the counter wasn’t long, despite the busy patronage, and Raf soon returned to their table and evicted his violin case out of the seat across from Magritte. Finding an unused chair from a nearby table, he pulled it up next to him and sat his carrying case on it.

  He reached over the table to hand Magritte the change, and she stared at it blankly for a moment before saying, “–Oh!” with a bit of a start. She turned her palm up to receive it.

Magritte stuffed the money back into the pocket of her duffel bag. “So, Question.” She sat back up and looked to Raf. “You say you’re not a professional, but you sound like...you know…Properly trained, or whatever.”

  “Mmh.” It was a predictable topic, but not one he wanted to stay on. “Or whatever.” He laughed. “Yeah. Parents pushed it onto me a little too hard. I’ve got the training, but playing it is a chore and I kinda hate it.”

  Magritte’s eyes grew wide and rueful and she shrank against the backrest of her chair. “Wait, really?” She covered her face with the sleeves of her sweater and threw her head back with a guilty little groan. “I’m sorry, I made you play so many songs!”

  Raf patted the air in front of him in a placating gesture, “No, no. You didn’t make me do anything, relax.” He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I did that to myself. I meant it, though, when I said it was fun. It was the first time in a long while where I actually enjoyed myself once things got going.”

  Magritte drew in a deep breath, recollecting herself before tentatively asking, “Enough that you’d wanna do it again sometime?”

  A beleaguered laugh escaped him, “No.”   He had given her much of his time and energy already, and being asked for more put a bitter taste in his mouth. The arrival of his iced americano and her hot mocha couldn’t have been better timed. As soon as it was placed in front of him, he brought the drink to his lips and took a long sip. 

  Magritte sheepishly turned her gaze down to admire the little white hearts in the foam of her coffee before she started to drink it. She placed the cup back down but kept both hands curled around it. “Did you enjoy it when you were younger?”

  “Music?” Raf shrugged. “I don’t remember. It doesn’t really matter.” His gaze turned down towards her duffel bag as he grasped for a better topic. “Is your main instrument the piano?”

 “Yeah! It’s what I had access to, growing up.”

  “Who taught you?”

  “Oh, I, uh…mostly just the internet and stuff. My parents didn’t wanna waste money on it, and my highschool didn’t have like…a music class or anything. Just choir. None of my friends played music.”

  “...You learned online?”

  “Well, like…on Myspace and LiveJournal. Lots of people share what they know there, and I made some really good online friends who tried to teach me things. We’d share music with each other and do weekly challenges and stuff. It was fun.”

  “So, self-taught, more or less.”

  “Mostly. Oh, except–!” Magritte ducked down to unzip the main pocket of her duffel bag and dove her hands into it. She rummaged around until she produced a small mp3 player and earbuds attached by a chord. “There was a year when I was living in Montreal, my girlfriend was a jazz pianist. And then we met other, um…friends who taught me more in that one year than I think I ever learned in my entire life. It was her and a whole lotta horns. They all let me use their instruments and taught me proper technique and stuff. I think they liked watching me stubbornly struggle with it. In the end, I was only able to record one song before I had to, um, move on. But I’m still kinda proud of it. I dunno if you wanna–it’s instrumental and kinda eclectic, but I loved making it.”

  In response, Raf extended his hand, and Magritte spent a second scrolling through her library of mp3s before stuffing the little music device and earbuds into his open palm. 

  She performed an excited little wiggle in her seat as Raf wordlessly placed an earbud into his ear. “Just hit play, and it should be the right song.”

  Raf wasn’t sure what he had expected to hear. He was, at least, perfectly comfortable with listening and offering his honest input. He didn’t believe in ‘bad’ music. There was skilled and unskilled music, there was music that fit his tastes and music that really didn’t. But none of it was bad. All music created deserved to be created and allowed to exist–if only for the satisfaction of the musician who produced it. He was prepared to tell her that the best music she could make is the music she enjoyed making, even if it didn’t resonate with his personal tastes.   He pressed ‘play’.

 What hit his ear was an uptempo half-time funk sound carried on a unison horn line; crystal clear, well mixed, high quality audio. Right from the jump, the sound had a quirky, catching character. He fitted the other earbud into his ear as a sustained note leapt into an energetic, off-beat ska groove. His brow furrowed deeply as he tried to discern the instrumentation. The drum fill might have been digital, but the winds sounded far too dynamic to be synthetic. And there were…three of them; the two horns he couldn’t quite specify, and then a baritone sax. The horns took centre stage, confident and playful, supported by a jaunty walking bassline and synthetic, bubbly organ accompaniment. Despite its G minor key signature, the character of the piece was lively and a little goofy, smart but playful; it was simply–fun. A smile lit across his face as the melody modulated G minor into G Phrygian for the bridge section. The effect was a jesting ooh gonna getcha vibe.

  He listened to the end of the song before he began to comment on it. “Very cool. Your jazz friends weren’t sleeping on their music theory classes. I assume the organ is you?”

  Magritte shifted nervously in her seat as her thumb smoothed over the handle of her coffee cup in small, repeated strokes. “I borrowed instruments for this one and recorded it in…um, my girlfriend’s parents' house. They had a music room where I was allowed to record things.”

  “You borrowed–right. But the horns..?”

  “Yeah.”

  Raf levelled a measuring stare at her.

  “I recorded each instrument separately,” she began explaining, “It’s uh, piano, trumpet, trombone, and–oh! The baritone sax was played by Sadie, one of my, um…jazz friends.” She let out a weak laugh. “And then, like…a bass, I also played. And a synthetic drum fill ‘cus…none of us knew how to actually play drums.”

  “You played each instrument? Learned them and recorded this song within the span…of a year?”

  “No, just the trumpet and trombone! I already knew piano and bass.”   Confusion must have been apparent on Raf’s face, and she tried to address it by saying, “It’s all digitally processed, so it sounds a little more–”

  “No, I–I know that.” Raf massaged an eyebrow with one hand. “You’re the songwriter too, I assume?” His tone was a little more sharp than he’d have liked it to be. It betrayed his incredulity.

  Magritte picked up her cup and eyed him nervously over the rim as she sipped from it.

  “No, I don’t know how.” She sounded embarrassed. “I can’t read or write music. I just sketched a bunch of it out digitally first, and then–”

  “Fresh compositions? By ear?”

  “Yeah. And then I recreated it with the correct instrumentation.” She chewed on the nail of her thumb. “It works, I think.”

  “That’s still songwriting. It counts.” Raf sniffed and leaned back in his seat. “I gotta be honest, and don’t take this the wrong way but…it’s a little hard to believe.”

  Magritte’s nervousness dissolved into a flattered grin. “Yeah?”

  Raf’s brow twitched downward as he tried to read past her demeanour. He had expected a more sheepish response, if not a more defensive one. His doubt wasn’t intended as a compliment, but if she were being wholly honest with him, perhaps it made sense that she’d take it as one.

  He drained the last of his americano. “So, you’re not pursuing this professionally, because..?”

  “Oh, I am!” Magritte shrugged and turned her eyes to the upper right corner of the room. “It’s just been kinda…difficult.”

  “Yeah? Why’s that?” It was a stupid question he already knew the answer to. Music was more easy to find nowadays than ever before, but discoverability still relied on knowing how to promote the work and get the right ears onto it. And, across the entire spectrum of skill, this is what everyone tended to blame for the inability to live off their–

  “Money.”

  “M–!” The response was so sudden and matter-of-fact in tone, Raf couldn’t stop a bark of surprised laughter from escaping him. He’d have laughed the same way if someone had just dumped a bucket of ice water over his head.

  Magritte slapped her palms down on the table and leaned forward with wide eyes to state her defence. “Instruments are expensive, lessons are expensive, computers are expensive, software and sound libraries are expensive! Everything’s so expensive!” She slumped back in her seat, turning her palms over in an exasperated gesture. “If I could afford to go to school and actually like–learn music, and if I could afford to rent instruments and recording equipment and stuff, I could make more songs! I could upload like…whole albums! I’ve got all these doodles with my shitty midi libraries and they might sound actually good if I could just record them properly! But it’s been like…four years since I left home, and the only properly produced track I have to show for it is that one.” She flopped her hand towards the mp3 player on the table. “So, I just make my little digital doodles, and I come up with tunes that suit the sounds I have access to. I like it. I’m happy I get to make any music at all, but it’s a bit niche, you know? And I have all these other ideas in my head that need like…better, less…synthetic sounds. There are libraries that sound pretty convincing, but all the best ones are…expensive. And vocals are hard to record with the stuff I’ve got.”

  Raf held up his hands in effort to placate her. “No, I know, you’re right–money. I just–” It wasn’t a struggle he had ever faced, and he couldn’t help but feel like a bit of a heel over the fact that he hadn’t even considered it as an obstacle to the extent that she was describing it.

  “On the other hand,” Magritte’s voice took on a capitulating tone, “With the right skill, I should be able to produce bangers with whatever I’ve got, yeah? And,” she took up her coffee cup in one hand, staring into its contents, “if I was better at saving money, I’d be able to afford those really good sample libraries just fine, probably. I just like my sweet foamy lattes too much.” She sighed a little laugh at herself.

  Raf let out a low groan of disagreement, but didn’t elaborate on it. “I kinda…want to listen to those ‘digital doodles’ you mentioned.” If nothing else, it’d give him an idea of how much input her jazz friends had over the composition of the song he heard. If the obvious compositional prowess flexed in that fun-loving jazzy ska piece were completely absent in her little sketches, he wouldn’t chalk it up to being just a fluke. 

  Drawing in a deep breath and holding it, Margritte reached for the mp3 player and scrolled through its contents before handing it to Raf. “You can just skip through these as you like. It’s all a little–” She wrinkled her nose and let out a grunt in place of any real adjective.

  With an affirming little snort of his own, Raf took the little music player and put the earbuds into his ears once more. He pressed play, and immediately understood what she meant. The synthetic instrumentation was wholly lacking in dynamics, and the musical ideas present in the melodies begged for more colourful phrasing. As he skipped from one song to the next, he grew more frustrated. The compositional writing was good. Consistent with the first song he had heard, Magritte seemed to really love playing with eccentric progressions and modulations that were unconventional for the mood or emotion that the song was attempting to capture. And ever present in each little composition was this boundless sense of joy. But god, the instrumentation (or rather, the lack thereof) really, really held it all back.

  As he listened, his lips pressed into a thin line. Finally, with a low groan that betrayed his thoughts, he took out the earbuds and handed the music player back. “Yeah, that sucks.” The end of that statement stuck in his throat as he sputtered to clarify, “Not the music–”

  “Yes, the music.” Magritte’s giggle was one of genuine affirmation as she tucked the mp3 player away into her duffle bag.

  “No,” Raf argued, “your toolset. There’s a lot of skill here, but the cheap synthy sounds aren’t doing it any favours. You went absolutely ham on those horns in the first song, and I don’t hear any of that in these sketches because it’s just not possible. There’s a lot of energy that is just…missing. Even watching you play at the station, yeah your keyboard suffers the same limitations, but at least in person I noticed you’ll even make use of like…the percussion of your fingers hitting the keys, which, you know…is dynamic.”

  As he spoke, Magritte retained a smile and provided small nods before asking, “You like it, then?”

  Raf leaned back, folded his arms and chewed on the question for a second before replying, “Yeah. I do. A lot.” 

  A lot.

  There was a corner of his mind that begged him to get back home to his apartment and try out the melodies with an instrument that could do it proper justice.  Jesus Christ, this actually makes me want to play the violin.

  The realisation made his lip curl with a feeling in his gut that he couldn’t quite identify. “You know…”

  Magritte, taking the last remaining sips of her latte, turned her eyes up at him with a little “Hm?”

  There was a pause while Raf wrestled with himself. “I, uh…work at a recording studio not too far from here. Just down on uh…Powell Street.”   He felt his jaw clench. There was no good reason for him to tell strangers about where he worked. There was no possible good outcome in doing so. Mentioning it felt too much like an open invitation for her to pop in at any time, for no good reason at all except to make things uncomfortable.   “It’s called Hi-Note, and it’s got like…a pretty standard assortment of instruments to rent out and such. It closes early.” He wasn’t looking at her. Brow furrowed, he stared at the ice melting in his otherwise empty glass. “Swing by tomorrow night, after eight, and maybe we can jam for like..half an hour or something before I head home.”

  He didn’t glance up to see her expression, but her voice was slow to rise to his ears. “..Wait, really?”

  No. “Yeah.” What the fuck? “Really.”   Unable to unfurrow his brow, he managed to at least turn his gaze towards her. Her eyes were so large on that petite face of hers, and her lips parted slightly, muscles tense with the anticipation of some kind of catch or condition. Or, perhaps she had picked up on his apprehension and was waiting for him to revoke the offer. For some reason, the idea of doing so suddenly felt…unconscionable to him.

  In a small voice, she said, “I’d really like that.” The restraint of her response was belied by the way she wiggled in her chair. Beneath the table, her leg wagged restlessly like an excited dog’s tail. “Eight o’clock?”

 “Mmhm.” Raf felt some of the tension in his browline relax as a slight smile passed his lips. “Let's see if we can revisit some of those tunes you have. Just–for fun. No recording, nothing serious.”

  It seemed that Magritte could never keep a smile off her face for long, and once again, that broad, delighted grin of hers painted her features. “Yeah, yeah! I’d like that a lot!”

  “Alright then.” Raf knocked his knuckles twice on the table like a gavel, before standing up.

  As he reached to retrieve his violin case off the chair next to him, Magritte pressed her fingertips to her temples. “Hi-Note, eight o’clock.”

  Raf favoured her with a lopsided smirk. “Don’t forget.”

  “I won’t. I’ll see you there!”

  He provided her with an affirmative little wave, but by the time she had realised he was taking his leave, Raf was already halfway to the door.

  He heard her call out to him, “Thank you for the–um–everything!” 

  Looking back to her, Raf returned the sentiment with an appreciative nod before pushing through the cafe doors; exiting onto the busy sidewalk outside.

  He wanted to get home before sundown…

  To play his violin.

[tragedyslut]

♡ dad, would you wash my back this once? ♡

✶ [ j.miller ] ✶

♡ FATHER!JOELMILLER X FEM!TEEN!READER ♡

🩷 SUMMARY — he abandoned you for ellie, you thought youd never forgive him. alt timeline<3 intentional lowercase, no proofreading 🪽

your father joel miller was a vain man. after the loss of Sarah, he wasn't the same. which, was an obvious thing. having the last name miller gave you a 'higherachy'. people respected you. but the name didn't mean anything to you.

not anymore.

after ellie came around, joel was never there for you. even less than he used to be. the memories of before the apocalypse swarmed your brain. in some ways, you were jealous of ellie. she got the father figure you never did.

in other ways, you were worried for her. you were only 2 years older than her, 16.

joel had his third chance. you hoped that he wouldn't fuck things up like he did with you.

you still lived in jackson, in you and joels house. you would sleep in his old bed whenever you missed him.

you two had left the quarantine zone with and met Ellie. then, you three resided in jackson for a while. Joel promised that he would deliver ellie to the fireflies and be done with it.

but he broke that promise. he left with her in the middle of the night, only telling Tommy that he was taking ellie to a lab in Colorado.

well, to make a long story short, ellie died in that lab. you knew joel would never forgive himself, and apart of you wanted that. he wanted him to feel as much pain as you did when he abandoned you for some girl he barely knew. you did feel bad that ellie was dead, obviously. it isn't her fault that your dads a prick.

after ellies death, joel returned to jackson. you had no idea he was coming, and when he came you just happened to be on guard duty. you were a sniper, thats what you were good at. and you hated being on the front lines with a pistol, it pissed you off.

though today you wished you had just taken the front lines. approaching the gates, was your father. he looked.. broken. upset, to say the least.

you sighed, putting your rifle to the side and hopping off the gated wall to to unlock the gate for him.

he saw you and immediately looked like he was going to cry. it had been months since you last saw each other. though, your stoic expression didn't falter as you simply locked the gate behind him.

" .. y/n. look. im sorry. " joel immediately tried to blurt out. you shot him daggers.

" you broke your promise. i don't care how sorry you are. " you said, trying not to burst into tears.

joel sighed, knowing he couldn't change what happened. he had found that out too many times. with sarah, then ellie, now you.

he went forward and hugged you, not caring if you tried to push him away. but to his surprise, and your own, you didn't.

" kid.. i know. i fucked up but- i want to make it up to you. i want to be here. " he mumbled, you just shook your head.

" you can be here. but i ain't your kid anymore. "

that night, you two were in joels old house for the first time in ages. it felt so right, but so wrong. you stayed in your room the rest of the day, sobbing. you didn't care that joel could hear you, the walls were that paper thin that he could always hear you moving even the slightest bit.

he stood just outside the door for ages, wanting to come in and comfort you.. but he couldn't. he knew that. you needed to come round yourself.

he spent that night cooking your favourite dinner. once he was done, he came and knocked on your door.

" .. y/n. uhm. i cooked dinner. you should come down and get some. "

he said loudly, but he didn't hear anything in response. he hesitantly stepped into the room, and saw you curled up in a ball. you had cried yourself to sleep. he couldn't stop himself, he immediately went over and took you into his arms. he held you so tight. he never thought he'd be able to do that again.

he held you for hours, the idea of dinner being long forgotten. when you woke up and felt him holding you, it only made you start crying again. but not out of pain or sadness, but relief.

" its okay baby girl.. ive got you. i promise. " he said, just glad to have you in his arms again.

that night, you couldn't sleep. you missed him. you had this horrible feeling that he would leave again in the middle of the night. so you got up, creeping into his room. you stood in his door way, until he teared his eyes open, staring at you.

" kiddo? you okay? " he mumbled, sitting up.

" dad- can i.. stay in here tonight.. just this once? " you whispered out.

he nodded, letting you climb into bed with him. he held you all night, just enjoying being back with his daughter. you both knew that this wouldn't be 'just this once', but in a way that was a good thing. you both wouldn't ever be apart again. he wasn't leaving.

[powderblueblood]

In light of the buzzcut, how would lacy react to eddie turning up with the same cut? Personally, I'd take a nice long seat on that face even if there's not much left to grab on to. I think he really pulls it off

this is fun to think about because the original munson buzzcut actually has an place in their story. i wrote about in chapter seven but the tl;dr of it is that lacy and eddie ended up in the wheeler's linen closet together after eddie drew lacy for a game of seven minutes in heaven. this was right after he'd accidentally lit all his hair on fire after seeing johnny storm and thinking (boosted off whippets) i could do that...

(author's note hello, i wrote this before the f4 announcement came out just call me the oracle of delphi lmfao marvel execs i'm in your walls)

so anyway he's got this buzzcut and this bandage on his head. and they almost kiss. but then they don't.

but then eddie shows up like, ten years later, same buzzcut. his whole skull and ears and everything out, for god and everybody to see. lacy doesn't recognize him at first-- and wonders whether she should acknowledge him, yelling up from the street. they are in brooklyn, at ronnie ecker's apartment, and he expects ronnie to throw down the keys.

lacy's not meant to be here, really, but ronnie's gone and ronnie always gives her the spare key and forgets. and lacy forgot something the last time she was here, a book or a coat or an excuse to be anywhere but where she's supposed to be and--

"ecker, i'm trying really hard not to get arrested down here!"

eddie munson is twenty three years old and bald and in for the shock of his life when lacy appears at the window, tossing the keys and praying he doesn't let them fall in the gutter.

"shit," she can hear him murmur, but he catches them anyway.

power forward. cheerleader.

it's been a really, really, really long time since they've seen each other. the space between them is tangible and full of junk, and he can barely ease around it to get in the apartment door.

"i didn't know y-- i'm just gonna--" he drops his bag on the floor and moves to head back out again.

but lacy can't stop herself.

"so what is it?" eddie pivots, fidgeting with the keys in his hand. "witness protection?" she watches his eyes shift, the most prominent feature about him now. "you lose a bet?" eddie's mouth attempts to steel a smile away. "oh, i know. it was lice."

"why don't we do all of the above for two hundred, alex?"

"jesus. indy's a rough town."

slowly, eddie slides the keys into his pocket. his eyes narrow, and his palm rubs across the top of his skull. she gets a sense he's been doing that a lot lately, to remind himself that it's really all gone. no twist of curly tendrils to hide himself behind. her chest pangs. "you don't like it?"

"you look different."

"you don't like it."

"it looks like an emergency."

"you look like an emergency."

"at least i'm not bald."

the real emergency is how either of them are going to look themselves in the eye after eddie ends up with his face between lacy's legs, lacy's fingers finding no purchase against the stubble on his skull as she keens her cunt against his mouth. ronnie's couch. houselights out. to be discovered any second.

but eddie feels just like she remembers, eager and hungry, only this time with an edge of clarity. something to prove. the spikes of his buzzcut give a mean sting as her thighs close around his head and he can barely struggle out, "you sure you don't like it?"

his hips rut against the cushions, squeaking the ancient sofa against the hardwood. she resists the temptation to grab at them, pull him further into her and believes with utmost sincerity that she should be canonized for it.

it'd be easier to pretend he was anyone else was it not for the fact that eddie feels just like she remembers. and she remembers him frequently. it'd be so much easier if he, and his glittering supernova'd pupils and his wet, rosy mouth didn't turn up to her and breathlessly beg, "tell me, lace."

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

On The Hunt: Moving Forward

Summary- 5.2k Alpha Steve x Little One. You find out that T'Challa invites Steve and Bucky to join the panthers hunting for Ulysses, meaning you have to work with your ex-mate. In an attempt to take your mind off what is happening, you are forced to admit some very hard truths.

Warnings- Loss of life mentioned, lots of angst and pining. This is an 18+ Only Blog.

A/N- Thank you so much to the people following, commenting, sending asks, and reblogging. Honestly, all of you are the reason we are this far in the series. I never thought I would get them here, but all your encouragement and love really made me want to make sure their story got told- the good and the bad. So many thanks to my beta, I hope you see this babes! Divider made by @firefly-graphics. The Chris edit in the moodboard was made by @justconfettiandsomeddew- Thank you for letting me use your work! It is such an incredible edit, when I first saw it I loved it. As always- comments and reblogs are much appreciated. 🐺💙

Chapter Three / Masterlist

 You burst out of the tent to breathe, your Little Wolf was distraught, you were trying to hold it together and your senses were swarming with the Alpha. 

Your Alpha. 

Fuck fuck fuck. 

The Little Wolf brushed against you, arching into your mind like a soft comfort that helped that knot loosens in your gut. 

What is he even doing here? 

<He is geared up for hunting. And I smelled Bucky around too.> 

You folded your arms around your chest in an attempt to calm yourself. It didn’t last long as you sensed him coming up behind you.

“Little One?” You stiffened at your name, almost bristling. Steve seemed to notice cause he corrected himself. “Y/N…” You waited but words seemed to fail him. Either not knowing what to say after all this time or gearing towards really spinning your world on its axis again, you turned to face him and really look at him for the first time in nearly a year.

Gone was the soft tufted locks of his that only edged blonde and a trimmed beard. Now his hair swept back, long and sun kissed blonde, his beard was rugged and looked several days untrimmed. His body filled out even more then before, his kevlar suit he was wearing was worn in places. Various changes had happened to it since the last time you had seen him in it. Deep lines etched around his eyes and forehead, making him look tired and demanding at the same time. His mouth was pressed thin, clearly holding himself in check around you. His eyes lingered around the column of your neck. 

“You look good, strong.” Steve finally said and you snapped.

Every fiber in your body was vibrating inside of you now. 

“I look good… That’s all you can think to say to me Steve after all this time?” You stalked closer, feeling yourself bristling while bringing yourself face to face with your former Alpha. 

Steve looked so uncomfortable and you took satisfaction in that while he stiffened.

“What are you doing here Y/N? This isn’t home.” 

“Home? Why would you care if I was ‘home’.” You made finger quotes and the satisfaction you felt at the angered flash in his eyes and how his jaw twitched, it was the best thing you had seen in a while. The Little Wolf snickered in your mind somewhere at the Alpha’s reaction. “Home where your cabin is, your pack? Why would I stay there Steve?” 

“You know that's all yours too Y/N, all of it I left to you, I never asked you to leave where you finally found home.” He barked out, the tendons in his neck standing out as his voice raised and you pushed forward. 

“Home was you Steve and you left me.” You snarled out, daring him to snap at you again, let him try to drag you back where you would be safe from the world and him. Around you both others gathered, the fighting having stopped and spectators were watching to see what would happen. You sensed Bucky coming up, your eyes darting to him. “Get control of your Alpha Buck. He is in my way.” 

“Uh-” Bucky stuttered to a stop, unsure of what was happening when you stepped away from Steve, brushing past everyone and going back to where the victims were to help them. 

T’Challa broke through the crowd gathered around, his gaze falling on the two wolves in the midst. Steve stood their watching you walk away, shaking slightly to restrain going after you. 

“Well a surprise I must say Steve.” He rumbled slightly as his gaze falling to Bucky. “You and the White Wolf both.” Bucky stiffened as he assessed the king, T’Challa didn’t let the critical gaze affect him as he matched the man. “What happened to you James is known as far as Wakanda. You have a sanctuary with us, if you want it.”

Steve seemed to snap his attention away from you and pay attention to what was going on before him. As if sensing Bucky was uneasy, he reached out to clasp Bucky’s shoulder, a barely there squeeze bringing the mistrusting man back, an all is safe move. Bucky gave a slight dip of his head and a soft. “Thank you.” 

“I must say though, I don’t expect you wolves to be out this far.” T’Challa pointed out before he glanced at those surrounding him, giving a soft snarl that sent them scattering back to their duties. “But how about you both join us back in Wakanda to discuss.” 

“We would be grateful,” Steve said, trying to appear focused on the king when his Wolf started howling once more for his Little One. You were so close and so far away. It pained him that he couldn’t feel you with him, even though he could see you helping the injured just steps away, ignoring him. 

It was wrecking havoc with you. You could sense him all around you, his Alpha scent was as strong as ever, maybe because you had missed it so much. But that smokey wood scent and cool metal wrapped in your mind and made your Little Wolf ache for her Alpha. It was also so close to your heat and worry swirled in your belly at the thought. 

The last few heats had not been so bad, hot sweaty nights and you had to let your imagination go to get off and find relief, the pain associated with being in heat was just an ache that you were able to abate. But now that Steve was here, back in your space, would your body rebel? Only find satisfaction in his touch. 

Fuck you hoped not. 

The Little Wolf whined loudly, curling in a ball in your mind as she tried to not push you to him, although you sensed she missed her Alpha as much as you did. Which infuriated you all that much more that you missed him. You focused on your task at hand as much as possible, kneeling next to Nakia while cutting bandages as she assessed the child in front of her. 

“Are we going home?” The girl asked, big giant eyes looking between you and Nakia, seeking some form of assurance and truth. Nakia’s eyes softened as she cleaned up the girl's arm. Everything about her was calm, warmth, what any mother would give. This Panther gave it so freely to anyone. It was one of the things you admired about her when you first met. 

“King T’Challa will bring you home with us Cub and then we will try to find your family.” She dabbed a wet cloth gently, twisting the girl’s arm carefully to make sure any abrasion the ties she was cut out of were cleaned off. 

“I don’t know if they are even alive.” The little girl whispered sadly. You could feel the tears starting up, but you pushed them down for now. “I just want to go home.” 

“Tell me about home?” You nudged at her while handing Nakia the bandages and the little girl started talking about her parents who loved her so much, her grandma who lived with her and told her stories of Bast the patron god of the Wakandan’s. When Nakia finished the bandage, her hands sliding up to cup the girl’s face and wipe her thumbs over her cheeks to wipe the smudged dirt and tear tracks dry. “Did your Grandmother ever tell you where Bast takes us?” 

The little girl shook her head and Nakia gave a smile, delving into the story of the Panthress to the sorrowed child. 

Listening silently nearby, your heart felt the heaviness of this story, the look on Nakia’s face was serene as she talked about a paradise that rivaled Wakanda. It also meant that she already knew from the cubs description, her family on the river didn’t survive. 

Returning to Wakanda with the survivors meant that your duties were done, T’Challa calling you away while they were settled in safe quarters for the night, the Queen taking over now that they were safely back in Wakanda. All you craved was a shower and to crawl into bed to be plagued by Steve being here. 

Instead you went to where T’Challa held debriefings. Slipping into a seat, you glanced around the room. Okoye was in her designated seat, along with Nakia who fidgeted, ready to return back to the survivors, other panthers of power within Wakanda, and then there, at the end of the table sat Steve and Bucky. 

Bucky looked on edge, you imagined the White Wolf in him would be bristling with energy. So many shifters in one space and Bucky was more of a lone wolf, typically keeping to himself even before he was captured. 

Steve was calm by appearance, but you could see his slight fidget where he was bouncing a leg underneath the table, clear blue eyes sliding face to face, categorizing friend or foe to those he considered in his protection. Meaning Bucky. You were no longer considered his. 

<You know Steve would step in if we were threatened.> Your Little Wolf chiming into your inner thoughts made you want to push her away and give you absolute privacy. But you couldn’t do that, not when you knew you both shared each other. 

I know he would, you are not telling me anything I don’t already know. 

<Then why are you lying to yourself?> 

Because it’s easier to think I don’t matter to him, okay! You watched as his eyes bounced to you occasionally, softening before his expression dropped to the table. Like he wasn’t allowing himself to look at you. But you didn’t miss the longing there. 

Good, let him suffer. You turned towards where T’Challa was calling everyones attention. “The camp was dismantled.” He announced and an approved mummer reverberated through the crowd. “Ulysses though managed to evade us.” You glanced at Okoye, her stoic features never breaking but you imagined she was upset that the mission didn’t pan out as planned. “But… Shuri…” T’Challa’s hand waved towards his sister, who chose this moment to bounce into the room with a cheery grin on her face, a tablet clutched to her chest. “Has a drone following his movements.” 

“Perfect.” You hear one of the panthers growl out, casting a mistrusting eye to Steve and Bucky at the end of the table. “Why do we have more wolves at the table then?” 

You knew you weren’t welcomed by everyone but to have Steve and Bucky elicit such a welcome made your Little Wolf growl sharply and it bubbled from you, a warning for anyone to try attacking them. Bucky stiffened slightly but Steve met the challenging panther’s gaze face on, unintimidated by the man. 

T’Challa cleared his throat to break the tension in the room. 

“I welcomed them, they too are hunting the same man that we are. Because I trust them…” You felt your heart sink, you felt it coming. “I am having them join us, Steve and Bucky are both well known for their skills in the field. Along with Y/N, where Shuri can’t track Ulysses, they can. None of you can deny that the wolves have a skill we panthers do not posses. Ulysses has been evading us for years, kidnapping our people, and stealing our resources. Even I’m not too proud to admit we need their help. With Y/N’s help, we’ve come closer than ever before” He leveled a look for any protesting panther at the table, but all of them kept their mouths shut. 

You would be working with Steve, closely. 

Steve really hadn’t expected T’Challa to just announce to the council that he and Bucky were joining them in hunting for Ulysses, Steve had wanted to tell you first, privately. Although he wasn’t sure you would give him the chance if he had tried. He watched you bolt from the table and Steve raced after you while you darted speedily as ever around the building. He lost track, but your sweet scent led him onwards till he found you stepping onto an elevator. Steve managed to dart in on the last second, receiving a look from you and the panther who was already in the elevator. 

“Pan.” You said in greeting before tucking yourself off to the side, ignoring Steve. 

“Y/N, are you joining me today?.” Pan purred at you, making Steve stiffen slightly. Pan glanced at him for a moment before silence fell in the elevator while it lurched to a move.

Steve took a moment to collect himself, feeling your anger in the small space. He just wanted to apologize for springing it on you, that he would have told you himself before if he knew T’Challa was announcing it to everyone. 

What are the chances you would have stayed in Wakanda to work with him if you had known about it? This was exactly what he was trying to avoid when he walked away, you had already been through so much with Pierce and him. But now here you were, together again. Part of Steve felt he should leave to give you your peace, remain hunting with the panthers and he move on. But his Wolf fought that instinct, aggressively. 

Seeing you again, that ache for you had not lessened any. He missed you, terribly. Even now how he yearned to reach out and wrap you up, soothe away the pain you couldn’t hide behind your anger. Your brows were pinched and your gaze purposely away from him. Your mouth tightened, much like it did when you were withdrawing into your mind, focusing on the Little Wolf. 

<Talk to her. Her yelling at you is better then this quiet.>

I’m waiting for the panther to get off. He doesn't need to be involved in this.

Right at that moment you stepped closer to the panther. 

“You know what Pan, I think I will.” 

Pan rolled his shoulder as if it was tensed and needed loosening. “Yes, that haul you dragged us through took more out of me than I expected.” Making you grin for the first time since Steve has seen you. It lightened up your face, the way you laughed in response. 

Some twinge of jealousy might have filtered through Steve that it wasn’t him doing that for you. 

“I promised you months ago that I wasn’t ever going to go easy on you.” You announced as the elevator dinged and with a sweep of the doors you stepped off, this time Steve didn’t chase after you. 

It was clear you didn’t want to listen to him. 

“So…” Pan started as he stepped outside into what was used as a training course, the wild jungle a maze of obstacles more difficult than anything T’Challa could have built. The tall man arched a brow your way while you followed him, refusing to look back at where you left Steve behind. “That was your Alpha?” 

“Yes.” You simply said, tilting your face towards the sun to let it soak in. 

“Do you want to talk about it.” Pan asked calmly, reaching over his shoulder to pull off his tank and let it fall onto a nearby bench before kicking off his shoes. You mimicked him, starting to strip and embrace the change. 

“What is there to talk about? He is here, I have to track with him and Bucky. Nothing to it.” The man gave a hiss of disbelief as you wriggled out of your pants, glancing at him momentarily. “It’s the truth.” 

“You are not a very good liar Wolf.” His lean muscular body started getting revealed, your gaze falling to the ground to respect his privacy while you sighed out. 

“All I want to do is get through this Pan… Help a girl out, will you.” You felt the Little Wolf rising in you, the shift always fairly quick. 

“Don’t I always? Come on… Kick my ass again.” Pan winked, his form falling away till a sleek panther made silent bounds away from you. You embraced the change, the overall freedom and wildness your Little Wolf resided in, and when you felt that energy brimming through you, you chased after the streaking black shadow into the depths of the jungle. 

Pan was one of the panthers that welcomed you, had life been different, you could have seen yourself attracted to the man. He was looming tall which made you feel dwarfed, easy going demeanor with sharp features but soft eyes that seemed to see into you. You and Pan had quickly become friends while working together and even the wild cat in him seemed laid back. Now as you tracked him, you caught him lazing above you, his paw draping down to cuff at you before he gave a yawn that flashed all his deadly sharp canines, his tongue lolling out before he snapped up higher in the trees, his roar a challenge for you to continue following him. 

The Little Wolf danced under the trees with her nose in the air and ears pricked, watching above for the dark dappled coat of his, beautiful even among the panthers, his coat almost sheened purple as dark as it was with darker spots making him appear dappled in the light. Bright green eyes were heavy among the intense blackness and his whiskers were fine as they graced around his face, helping him move among the narrowest of passages with ease. 

It was always fun to track Pan because he would give you a challenge, gliding along the canopy with ease and catching you unaware when he would drop suddenly, leading you onto the chase till your Little Wolf did what you do best. 

Even in this climate not at all suited for wolves, your speed couldnt be matched by the panthers. You always caught your target. 

Pan led you far away from the problems you were dwelling on, the big cat panting heavily as you followed him through the densest foliage, unsure of where the two of you were. You had never been in this section before, curious where he was taking you. He leaped atop a large fallen log, slippery with moss. His claws digging into the soft wood to keep his balance while his roar scared into the dense forest. You scrambled under it, and coming out the other side you skidded to a stop at a deep pool, wafting cooling air among the humidity that you let yourself wander closer to the crystal clear water. A small waterfall sounded nearby, making a cool mist rise around the pool to give it a shimmer. 

“I thought you could use a little Oasis time.” Pan smiled, back to his human form as he stepped into the water. Letting himself slip under the water. You could still clearly see the man shoot across the depths of the pool. 

It strangely reminded you of home with the massive lake where you spent countless hours with your family and friends. It made the Little Wolf whine, ears laying back as she padded forward. Pan heard you clearly after he surfaced, twisting nimbly in the water. “I am sorry Y/N? Do you not like swimming?” 

The Little Wolf pushed forward, sliding into the water and strongly paddling until much deeper then where you could touch and slipped under, letting the water surround you. It felt good, like home. You let the shift take over, your human body easily twisting in the water to spring back to the surface, taking a deep breath to refill your aching lungs. Drifting in place, you gave a shake of your head to Pan. “No, its… I love the water. Thank you for bringing me.” You let your fingers scoop some up and splash over your head, like it was a cooling rain cleaning your head. “It was just what I needed.” You were sure to keep your back to him, hiding the multitude of scars covering your back and shoulders.  

Your friend’s smile was brilliant at the praise as he slipped under once more.You let the water overtake you, the coolness sweeping into its embrace. 

The two of you splashed and lounged in the oasis for most of the day, drifting together and sharing stories about your lives, you kept yours light, remembering the few good times of your childhood before Pierce claimed you. Then the sky started to turn purple and stars dart above the pool. You both pulled yourselves out, stretching on the sun-warmed rocks to dry off. 

Finally, you were feeling at peace, even going back and facing Steve wasn’t making you want to go in a panic, as much as you were still dreading the way the conversation was going to go. 

You recalled Steve’s expression when you left the elevator, the regret and sadness etched in his features, but his head fell to break contact, letting you go while he watched you walk away this time. 

You almost yearned for him to come for you, demanding you to stop and talk to him although you probably wouldn’t have. Some pains didn’t always just go away with time and as hurt, as you were, you were still so angry with him for leaving you behind. 

It didn’t change how you felt about him though, you loved the Alpha. He made you feel safe and loved, even strong although you were much better equipped now. Your relationship with Steve had been so fast and intense from the first time you two met that it didn’t get many of these moments where life just was good. 

You often wondered what it could have been like if it got to be normal. Steve wasn’t dealing with being an Alpha to his pack and having to face the dangers you enlightened him to, what if Bucky had never been collared. What if you two just met and dated, and the Wolves got to court one another? 

“What are you thinking about Y/N?” Pan asked while he shifted closer to where you stretched out, pushing himself to sit up and you followed suit, hugging around your bent knees.

“How different things could have been at home if life hadn’t been so demanding.” Voicing your thoughts out loud. You missed the gleam of Pan’s gaze on you, your eyes wandering around the calm pool, soaking it in before returning to your mission with T’Challa. 

“If it had been different Y/N, we might have never met.” The deep voice purred, a hand suddenly coming to cup your cheek and tilt you to face him. You blinked in surprise at him, both you and your Little Wolf going still in the predator’s warm gaze. His soft eyes weren't there anymore, now they were sharp, studying you in seconds to decide if he was gonna kiss you. It wasn’t long when his resolve made him lean forward, pressing his lips to yours. 

You felt the air drain from you suddenly, a warmth blossom at the touch as you leaned into it, craving the feeling of being touched again by passionate hands. Your hands rose to drift up his muscled chest, pulling in closer till his hands spanned your waist to ease you into his lap. If felt so good, the way his long fingers flexed in their hold to grasp you just a little tighter with need, your core starting to throb at the slightest bit of intimacy you were given. 

You arched into him, feeling him hard against your belly while your kisses trailed to his neck, tasting the oasis water drying on his skin. He growled, his head tilting back while you explored the length of his neck, your teeth dragging along straining tendons. 

But it wasn’t Pan you were picturing, not his laughing brown eyes or quick to smile features. Steve continued to haunt you, his gaze boring into your heart and his Wolf’s mating song echoing through you. 

Guilt tingled your spine, a dread filling your excitement. Your Little Wolf howled distantly, her song for her mate, and your senses were filled with Pan, the way he felt so different against you, his body wasn't as welcoming as Steve’s had been, and his touch wasn’t that rough and calloused embrace that made you lose your mind. His smell didn’t make you feel like you were coming home, his taste on your tongue was wildly different. Pan wasn’t bad, physically he was everything anyone would want to be with, but you couldn’t. He nipped at your bond mark, making you growl sharply in a warning. But he missed your vocal warning and focused on your body instead. 

<This doesn’t feel right Y/N.> The Little Wolf drifted back, the excitement of being with someone fading. Now you felt smothered as he gripped your back with a hand to brush you against him, his purring rumbles pressed against your clavicle as he explored one of your breasts with another, cupping you and squeezing lightly. <You don’t want him, not like this.>

You steeled yourself for anger as you eased his face off your breast where he had been pressing kisses. “Pan, stop. Please, I can’t do this.” 

Immediately his touch faltered on you, easing away from you intimately and just letting his hands fall away to rest on the rock beneath him, giving the two of you space. You drew in air, trying to clear your aroused but disdained mind. You felt his very solid body underneath you, warm and ready, but it still felt wrong to be here. 

You pulled away, drawing yourself together with your arms covering over your breasts while you sniffled at yourself. “Y/N, You do not want this?” He tilted his head, shifting himself around so his hard cock wasn’t so prominent. His gaze sought yours till your eyes locked. 

You gave a shake of your head, sniffling. “Do the panthers have bonds like the wolves?” 

“No, even though in Wakanda we live so closely and have strong bonds, it is nothing like what I have heard the wolves have.” 

You smiled softly, shifting your hair just a bit to show the scar that Steve gave you. “They are very intense, but when you are bonded, you are so connected with your partner. I could feel Steve’s emotions, my wolf could be with his whenever she wished to be with her mate, and our wolves were together all the time. The Alpha and Little Wolf loved each other and took care of each other. Wolves are not built to be alone for long.” You let your hair fall back, covering your neck once more. “When Steve had to break our bond, it was so physically painful for me. For him too, I’m sure, but at that time Brock already had control of him.” 

“That must have been awful.” Pan said with empathy. 

You wrung your hands together, the fear of the memory making you fidget. “It was Pan, I felt like part of me was ripped from my soul. To see my other half disappear into a man I didn’t know and no longer feel his strength, passion, and love with me, I felt like a piece of me was cut out.”

“And that is why you two are no longer?” Pan curiously asked, easing closer to comfort you as your friend, nothing more. His hand reached for yours and you let yourself take it. Your hand squeezed his, your eyes tearing up. 

“No, Steve made that choice for us. Something in him broke the day of the attack and he walked away from me, deeming himself too dangerous to be involved or bonded to me any longer. He chose to become a Nomad.” Pan’s eyes widened in surprise. “Steve did what he did because he loved me and as angry as I am with him, as much as I want to rage at him for thinking I’m too weak to be with him, I still love him and that’s why I can’t do this with you.” 

“Ọkàn rẹ jẹ ti Nomad” Pan let his hand rest on his chest where his heart was. Your heart belongs to the Nomad

“Yes, it’s always belonged to Steve, even now my Little Wolf is howling his song to call him home, he is my mate, even when he isn’t.” The tears started to track down your face and Pan pulled in close to let his arm drape around you while you shook in your grief. 

Steve couldn’t help wandering near the entrance, waiting for you. His Wolf paced too, his ears constantly pricking to exam every sound, which here with the bustle of panthers coming and going along the late night jungle edging them, it was alot and made both of them anxious. Bucky had long since retired to his rooms, leaving Steve to keep his vigil alone, which gave him time to try and sort through the mess in his head. 

He let you go and what you did wasn’t his business. You seemed so happy and comfortable with the panther you left with. Have you moved on? As much as it hurt, making his very powerful Wolf whine at the thought of it, it was something Steve needed to consider. It was in every right for you to do and that made something sorrowful build in him. Steve wanted you safe and happy, you seemed to have just that, here. 

The Wolf growled, trying to draw him out of these thoughts. These were exactly what made him feel like he had to leave. 

But he just couldn’t pretend that their was nothing between you two, that was an even worst lie his Alpha wouldn’t accept and neither could he. 

So he waited, patiently, just to see you one last time today. 

Steve didn’t have to wait long. Your Little Wolf burst through the door into the main entrance, your coat gleaming from the jungles condensation catching in your fur, making you shake vigorously while a muscular panther prowled in after you, his large paws silent on the marble of the floor. 

Steve remained out of sight, caught up in watching you nuzzle under the panthers chin. His large pink tongue swept over your ears in affection and he bounded away up the stairs to the upper levels, leaving the Little Wolf behind. 

Steve almost called your name as you lost that bounce in your step from playing, padding towards the steps. Your Little Wolf looked stronger than ever Steve thought as he admired you. The Alpha Wolf yipped for you. 

Steve almost let him, but he saw your affection with the panther, the way you two were teasing and rubbing against each other. 

Let her go Alpha. 

<You know we can’t, we belong to her.> 

She is happy here, we are not about to take that away from our Little One again. 

<Even if she has taken another mate?>

Even then, she deserves better than I gave her. Steve's hands fisted at his sides, feeling a shiver of anger at himself. 

Steve watched you start for the stairs, pausing to lift your muzzle to sniff the air and whip your head around searching. But when neither of them made themselves known, you continued up to your rooms, alone.

[callsign-bunnie]

*BANGING ON THE DAMN DOORS* PART FOURRR PLEASE IM DYING. IM DYING SQUIRTLE. I’m a little ckreauture stuttering around for SCP part four pls and thank you

Haha, of course!

--

[Transcript start]

Alex: So let me get this straight. You managed to find copies of yourself.

Soap: No, no, I found a copy of Ghost and a copy of Roach but they're from a different universe, I think. A different timeline. It was 2010 when they were sent here.

LT Ghost: What year was it when you were sent here?

Soap: 2023.

LT Ghost: Fucking hell. We've only been here three years it feels like. God, Captain is going to lose his fucking mind when he meets you all.

Soap: He means Captain Me by the way. I'm apparently a captain in this universe.

Alex: Well, don't get too prideful, Soap. *chuckles* Anyway, this is fucking crazy. So, you came to me?

Soap: Funnily enough, I thought you'd question it the least. You seem... fairly open minded about this place.

Alex: Yeah, I've had personal experience with these fuckers. Hey, what do we call this second Ghost?

LT Ghost: You guys can call me Riley if you want.

Alex: Hell, I'll take it.

Soap: Hey, Riley? I'm curious are you and your Soap... close?

LT Ghost: Closer than close. We're married.

Soap: What?!

Alex: *laughs*

LT Ghost: Are you and your Ghost not... together?

Soap: No- Alex stop laughing you asshole. No. Ghost... isn't interested in me like that.

LT Ghost: Yeah, Roach and Soap eloped shortly after we escaped Shepherd. They decided to be legally married and then we had a small ceremony with me as well.

Soap: WITH ROACH?!

Alex: *laughs louder*

Soap: You all three are together??

LT Ghost: *laughs* Yeah. I guess Polyamoury is a weird concept here?

Alex: Not at all. Soap just-

Soap: Alex, go back to Gaz.

Alex: I will gladly go to my boyfriend. I'll leave you with your pseudo-boyfriend- ow! Why did you throw that at me?

Soap: You fucking know why, Keller. Go. Shoo. Riley, where did you say you were?

LT Ghost: O5 I think if I read the sign right. Roach is telling me that's correct.

Soap: Is Roach mute in your universe as well?

LT Ghost: Selectively. But yes. What about yours?

Soap: Completely. An accident.

LT Ghost: You said you were also betrayed by Shepherd earlier... How?

Soap: It's a long story. Some missiles went missing and we were sent to Mexico to find them.

LT Ghost: Mexico?

Soap: Yeah. I met my best friend, Rodolfo, there.

LT Ghost: I look forward to meeting him. I got to say, you sound a lot different from my Soap. His accent is a lot thicker.

Soap: I keep it more neutral so everyone understands me. I get sick of constantly getting told to speak English.

LT Ghost: Makes sense. And you also are still a Sergeant?

Soap: Yep. Your Soap is a captain, though?

LT Ghost: Captain John Soap Mactavish, yes.

Soap: Fun.

LT Ghost: You two are fairly different, even in the way you act, though. I mean, I haven't seen you move but you speak in different manners. You're a lot more carefree.

Soap: I'm not more carefree, I don't like being miserable.

LT Ghost: I guess that's a good outlook on life to have.

Soap: Check back in in 2 hours, Riley.

LT Ghost: Yes, sir.

[Transcript end]

--

[Transcript start]

Rodolfo: There's a second Ghost?

Soap: Yes, and a second Roach. And a second me. Apparently a second Gaz and Price, too, though I think Gaz is dead.

Rodolfo: But no second me, right?

Soap: No. You don't exist in that universe. I mean, I'm sure you do but they never go to Mexico to meet you.

Rodolfo: Fascinating. And this second Ghost is coming here to meet us?

Soap: As far as I know, yes. And the second Roach.

Rodolfo: Does Price know about this?

Price: He does now.

Soap: Price! I didn't know you were on the radio.

Price: I'm always on the radio. Especially since Ghost disappeared. What's this about a second us?

Soap: Someone got on the radio calling themselves Lieutenant Ghost Riley. They called me Captain John Mactavish.

Price: And you invited them to our camp?

Soap: I thought we were here to gain information, sir.

Price: You're right. We are. Safely. How do you know they're not a threat?

Soap: I mean, I guess I don't but... how do they know we aren't?

Rodolfo: I think it will be interesting to meet them.

Price: I suppose. I'm sure Roach is excited to meet his counterpart.

Soap: Practically bursting with it.

Price: Let me know when they are set to arrive.

Soap: Yes, sir.

[Transcript end]

--

[Transcript start]

LT Ghost: Sergeant Mactavish, this is Riley, how copy?

Soap: Riley! I copy.

LT Ghost: John and Price managed to find me.

CPT Soap: Sergeant Mactavish, this is Captain Mactavish. Am I hearing my lieutenant correctly? Is your name John Mactavish?

Soap: Johnny Mactavish, actually. Do I actually sound like that?

Rodolfo: No, hermano. Your voice is softer.

CPT Soap: Who the fuck are you?

Rodolfo: Sergeant Major Rodolfo Parra, second in command to Los Vaqueros, a Mexican Special Forces unit.

Soap: It's okay, Rudy, stand down. Riley, where are you, actively?

LT Ghost: The sign says G4.

Soap: You're very close. I'll inform our Price that you're coming.

CPT Price: Will he come on the radio?

Price: Already am.

CPT Price: It's nice to meet you, I'm Captain John Price-

Price: I've been informed, Captain. We await your arrival.

Soap: You two sound exactly the fucking same!

Rodolfo: It is uncanny.

Soap: That's wild. I suppose Price is universal

Rodolfo: *laughs* I will tell Alejandro what is going on.

CPT Soap: Why do you have Mexican Special Forces with you?

Soap: It's a long story but he's practically my best friend. Technically his best friend is Alejandro but... well, it's a long story. Riley said you, Roach, and him were married?

CPT Soap: Are you and your Ghost not married?

Soap: No. I'm not that lucky, I suppose.

CPT Soap: Hmm.

LT Ghost: John.

Soap: It's alright. I'm a suspicious man, I get it. Anyway, we await your arrival. You should arrive before the lights go out.

LT Ghost: It looks that way. We will see you then, Soap.

Soap: Affirmative.

[Transcript end]

[inherstars]

Gears of War | Midwinter (6 of 6)

Previous section here.

“Did you carry these things all the way from the other house in that bag? Is that why you were in the kitchen so long?”

“Oh my God TALK.”

He sighed.  Fuck.

“Alright.  Did you ever stop to wonder why old-school Gears are built like we are?”

She admitted, moving her tea bag string out of the way for a sip, “I never gave it too much thought, but I I’ll concede that it does seem pretty weird that you all seem to have that in common.  But none of the COG soldiers now are… I mean, they’re muscular, but--”

“But we’re a different breed,” he agreed, relieving her of the awkwardness of having to describe her father and his peers as built like brick shithouses.  “During the Pendulum Wars, I looked more like James does now.  It wasn’t until after E-Day that the Coalition realized Gears weren’t cut out, physiologically, to go toe to toe with the Locust.  You’ve only ever seen them in newsreels, pictures… but they were massive.  The Drones were easily three hundred pounds of solid muscle, and they were the foot soldiers.  We had better speed and agility, but there’s only so long you can dodge and weave.  Eventually you have to hit back.”

He paused to test and then swallow some of his own tea, grunting in apparent appreciation as it eased his throat.

“To cut a long story short, we were given regular stimulants to promote hypertrophic muscle growth. Eventually they introduced another kind of stimulant -- more powerful, short-term -- strictly to use in combat.  It could staunch blood loss, promote healing, knit bone.” He held a hand up when she started to speak, immediately shutting down what he knew would come next. “I don’t know what was in them, or how they worked, only that they did.  And you’ll notice none of us have exactly been wasting away in the twenty years since, so clearly some of those changes were long-term ”

“But,” he said heavily, because she had to know one was coming.  “Once the war ended, and they stopped pumping us full of chemicals, we all got sick.  It turns out fucking with your immune system for seventeen years has consequences.  It was like putting us through a hard reset -- we had to rebuild our natural immunity the hard way.”

“This is… weirdly fascinating… but what does all that have to do with your hand?”

“Old habits die hard,” he grunted. “I didn’t want to be laid up with a broken hand for a full six weeks, so… I asked Baird for a booster.  Whatever was in those combat boosters, he can cook up a dose when he needs to.  It was just enough to knit things together faster than they otherwise might.”

“Ahhh. And that’s why you’re so sick now.”

Scylla sat forward, stacking their emptied plates and mugs onto the tray and relocating it out of the way.  She uncovered his hand from beneath the blankets, turning it over in both her own.  He flexed it open and closed slowly, knuckles crackling slightly in a way that suggested it was -- like everything else -- an imperfect fix.  But a fix nonetheless.  

She left her hand curled around his, head resting to his shoulder.

“Alternatively?  You could have just asked for help, without putting yourself through all this.  Both with your hand and… everything else.  Why does it feel like you’re constantly paying penance for something?”

He didn’t have an answer for that.  Not one he was willing to open up about now, anyway.  His chin lifted slightly, eyes resting sadly on the deep assembly of photo frames lining the mantle before them.

Even when he was too tired to bother with housework at the end of the day, these were the items he took down, one by one, thumbing the dust off their edges and polishing the glass against his sleeve.  It struck him that he’d left them here when they moved to the big house, and the weight of guilt filled his lungs like heavy air that he couldn't push out again.

They were mixed portraits of Gears and Civilians, as well as Gears still in their Civvy clothes.  Neither Cole nor Baird were among them, which seemed strange to Scylla, considering how indelibly the two were inked into her father’s skin.

There was a photo of two men who looked like brothers, one older and one younger, their arms slung across each other’s shoulders.

A wide, goateed Gear with a face bifurcated by tribal tattoos, hoisting an ale to the air in one fist.

A young, raven-haired woman cradling a newborn in her arms, beaming brilliantly into the camera as a toddler looked excitedly over her shoulder. A smaller portrait sat beside it, a baptism, where a young Marcus held the same infant with white-faced discomfort.

Soldiers in groups, huddled around the camera.  Gatherings of Gears without their armor, in fatigue pants and tank tops and gleaming COG tags, giving the middle finger as they leaned on Centaur tanks.

His mother.

His father.

Her mother.

Until now she’d assumed there simply hadn’t been an opportunity to meet these people, or perhaps they all moved to the far-flung corners of Sera once the war ended, unlikely to return anytime soon.  Faces came and went from everyone's lives.

But these were the ones who weren’t coming back.  And God, there were so many photos.

They weren’t all just COG tags passed somberly into his fist, or condolences passed to him second-hand.  He’d watched some of them leave.  He’d seen the light go out in their eyes, and heard their last, rattling breaths.  He’d tried to save some of them with his own hands, and washed their blood from them when he couldn’t.  He’d passed at least one of them the very weapon they’d used to take their own life.

And every day for almost two decades Marcus took them down, and polished them, and made sure they were arranged so he could see every. single. face.

These weren’t wounds Scylla could heal for him.  They weren’t bones that could be bound.  She couldn’t reason him free from the shackles of guilt any more than she could love the sadness out of him.  But she could still love him.

Her fingers curled more tightly around his.

“Do you think you can be happy again?”

Marcus didn’t answer, eyes still locked in a half-focus on the mantle.  She squeezed his hand.

“Dad?”

That brought him out of it.  He inhaled, head turning to look down on her, affected.

“Can I…” it was hard to breathe.  “Can I be happy?”

His head sagged tiredly, the tension leaving his face, unexpectedly aging him.  “Scylla.  I know it doesn’t sound like it, but I am happy.  That almost makes it worse.  When you don’t feel like you deserve it, you’re always… waiting for the other shoe to drop.  It’s like a precipice you hold yourself back from walking on, because you know it’s just going to crumble out from under you if you’re on it for too long.”

The fix of his head adjusted slightly, eyes sliding to her.  The hearthlight stole the blue from them, replacing it with soft, lambent gold, as if there was a fire still burning somewhere inside him.

“We go to war, and we come home with different battles to fight.”  His fingers closed around hers, holding to her hand as tightly as he dared.  “I told you, old bones heal slowly.  But they do heal.”

“Sometimes with a little outside help,” she said quietly.  He somehow found strength enough to squeeze more tightly.

“Sometimes.”

He exhaled slowly, freeing his near arm from beneath the blankets, and curled it around her, drawing her against him.

There was no warmer, cozier place than there against the radiator warmth of his side, yoked under his arm, her head at ease to his shoulder.  She finally felt small in ways that made her feel more safe than afraid.

“What can I do to help,” Scylla asked, pulling and retucking the edges of the quilt around her, around him.  He shifted enough to slide more deeply into the couch cushions, resting his head back comfortably.  He’d probably be stiff in the morning, popping in every joint, but he didn’t care.  He’d earned this, surely.

“Stay,” Marcus rumbled.  “If you want to.  Just stay.”

“If I want to?”  Her eyes upturned to him, though her head stayed firmly in place.  “I think I’ve been trying to get exactly here for my entire life.”

Another soft, idling breath escaped him, eyes closing.  “Then that ought to do it.”

She laid quietly, watching the logs shift and settle as they burned, her eyes painted the same soft, molten gold in their radiating light.  After a few long seconds Marcus’s voice sounded from beneath her ear, a low vibration through the bone and muscle and soul of him.

“And, if you want.  You can keep calling me Dad.”

[reiiiei]

but the thing is,

i don't believe diavolo is "canonically yandere"

and here is why:

first off, those admissions stated are not unique to "yandere" characters only. multiple characters have expressed wanting to keep mc to themselves, and given the chance, they would proclaim so. it can't be a fact contributing to diavolo = yandere if other "non-yandere" characters (say, mammon or asmodeus, or perhaps simeon) would or have already proclaimed such things. Obey Me is a romance oriented game. It is quite normal to hear/read lines of the sort, no matter the character archetype. I've played otome/gacha games including Solmare's games since back when they were still Shall We Date. edit: —and therefore encountered those same lines multiple times.

second, his character song. i genuinely believe his character song isn't meant to suggest that he's yandere. i didn't feel any of the sort. if anything, diavolo's character song instead feels likd desperation. like he was doing his best to sell himself to mc.

"Have you noticed? This is my charm."

"Please don't look away

I will catch your heartbeats

Say no more and come here"

"I'm a formidable No.1

The unmatched only one

Fear nothing and move forward

Run run run

Always singing with grace

La la la la la"

"I have nothing to hide, I am always honest

As long as I can, I will do anything for you

So yeah, "as an exchange"...

...may not be an appropriate expression

But I want that love from you in return"

Even the chorus feels like he was trying to convince mc and him both.

"Fear nothing and move forward." seems to be a message to himself, a reminder that despite possible, suggested fears of not being chosen, not being the closest to the player in comparison to the brothers, especially Lucifer.

It's very hard to explain and I probably should be doing my research paper instead but technically, he is the number 1. He's the prince of Devildom. He has the authority, the riches, the power. He's royalty. But compared to Lucifer and the brothers, he has barely any way to connect to mc. Not to mention that Lucifer is the more present and active forefront.

It's also like...like he thinks he needs to exchange luxury or material things to be loved.

Honestly I don't think I have enough non-neurodivergent braincells to be able to express my views on the matter clearly and concisely, so this ends here.

edit: i am back from first major hurdle of research study. right now i am not playing obey me. the way the writers handled the story and the individual character depths of all the male leads disappointed me, so i only come back for fanfic ideas because yes, despite what has happened in the story, i still love the characters. so yeah. as of now, these opinions are of what i know from the character song, and from side/event stories as well as devilgram and chats. before stopping, i did play obey me for the main story for three years though.

point one: it was not diavolo who was specifically responsible for mc's estrangement into devildom. mc was chosen by random and complete bad luck, mentioned by lucifer in satan's arc. even then, choosing did not fall under diavolo's responsibilities, but lucifer's. pretty irresponsible way to choose an exchange student, especially a human one, but diavolo wasn't even meant to be a dateable character back in the earliest part of the main story for it to suggest that diavolo has yandere tendencies. the only thing that implies is that demons overestimated humans and their ability to adapt/acclimate or simply did not care. however, this argument is only viable if the yanking mc from home thing one is referring to is not from season 1.

point two: the definition of a yandere is exactly, word for word, this: Yandere is a portmanteau of two Japanese words. The first is yanderu, which means “to be sick,” and the second is deredere, used here for “lovestruck.” A yandere is often sweet, caring, and innocent before switching into someone who displays an extreme, often violent or psychotic, level of devotion to a love interest

here's a longer definition:

point three: there's a distinct difference between yandere and somewhat possessive or jealous.

point four: barbatos is def much more of a canon yandere than diavolo, and i am not against fanon/headcanon/au yandere! diavolo.

[valleydean]

The Beginning

Story by: valleydean (emmbrancsxx0) Art by: sidewinder @hawkland

Link to fic Link to art

Brought to you by @deancashorrorfest

Tags/archive warnings: endverse, zombie apocalypse, graphic depictions of violence, blood and gore, drug use, animal death, Dean POV, Cas POV, Castiel's loss of angelic grace, newly human Castiel, jealous Dean, fear of abandonment, angst, rough sex, body horror, internalized homophobia, denial, minor Cas/OC, drugs as a coping mechanism, sex as a coping mechanism, suicidal thoughts, slow burn, slow build, codependency

Summary: One year ago, soon after Lucifer was freed from the Cage, Dean and Sam parted ways. Since then, Dean has been hunting on his own and, along with Cas despite his declining grace, searching for a way to prevent the apocalypse. When the outbreak of the Croatoan virus begins, Dean and Cas head to Bobby’s to plan their next move. On the way, as the contagion rapidly spreads through America, they must contend with the rabid infected, martial law, and humans who will do anything to ensure their own survival.

Preview:

Cas stepped to the other side of the door and turned around to face Dean. Dean stopped walking, looking forward at Cas and waiting for him to say anything at all.

When he did, it was, “In there.”

Dean pulled his brows together, his eyes flashing to the dark window panel in the door. The directional light of his flashlight bounced off of it, obscuring whatever was inside. The glass was a deeply black mirror.

His gut clenched, feeling like someone had shoved their hand into his intestines and was trying to rip them out. He slowly brought his face closer to the window. His transparent reflection stared back pensively. He looked beyond it, squinting and refocusing his eyes.

There were bodies in there—maybe three of four. He couldn’t really tell. Some of them were in pieces. Pools of blood soaked them, glinting like a knife in the moonlight that fought its way through the dirty windows.

Dean opened his mouth, about to ask what the hell happened.

Something slammed against the other side of the glass. A bloody hand. Dean jumped back, his shout echoing down the hall. It shattered the bubble of silence—so, too, did the banging on the glass as the man inside tried to beat his way out of the room. His dripping red fists pounded incessantly, leaving smears on the window. He was giving off animalistic grunts and hisses.

“What the…” Dean said, his heart still in his throat. He looked at Cas, demanding an answer. Part of him wanted to blame Cas, to ask him why the hell he slaughtered people and left them in a room. But maybe they weren’t people. Then, what? Demons? Monsters?

Something didn’t add up.

The man kept doing everything he could to bust through the glass. Dean noticed the paring knife clutched in his fist.

Cas didn’t kill those people.

“I led them here and locked them inside,” Cas said, as if he’d read Dean’s mind. “They killed each other.”

The lines of Dean’s forehead bunched up when he lifted his brows in surprise. There was something he was missing. It felt like a forgotten word on the tip of his tongue. A distorted memory from a faded dream.

“You’ve seen this before,” Cas supplied. “The Croatoan virus.”

The words hit Dean like a truck. Blanching, he said, “Croatoan? You mean, the thing that turns everybody into Jack Torrance?”

“No, the demon virus that triggers murderous actions in anyone who contracts it,” Cas corrected, and Dean was still too busy freaking out to tell Cas they pretty much said the same thing. Pressing his lips together, Cas turned his gaze on the door, and there was a subdued kind of despondency in them, like he was trying to control how much emotion he showed on his face. “It’s one of the signs of the apocalypse. This is Lucifer’s doing. He unleashed the Horseman Pestilence.”

“Pestilence,” Dean echoed, the word taking a long time to process. He remembered, thirteen months ago, when he and Sam cut the ring off War’s fingers. That had been the day he and Sam parted ways. Dean hadn’t seen his brother since. He’d only talked to him once on the phone, when Sam called him a few weeks later to tell Dean that Lucifer wanted him as his meatsuit.

Dean rattled his head, trying to shake loose any thoughts of Sam. He focused on Cas saying, “The entire town’s been infected.”

Dean remembered how quickly the virus spread—and how it spread. An infected person had to bleed into someone’s open wound. Once the blood mixed, that was it. Soon after, the victim would turn into a one-track-mind, bloodthirsty monster.

He glanced back at the doorway. The man was still standing behind the glass, looking at Dean like he was lunch, but at least he’d stopped pounding on the window.

“It isn’t the only one,” Cas continued. “There are pockets of the virus across America—possibly the world.”

How hadn’t Dean heard about this? His chest felt too small, like his ribcage was shrinking around his heart and lungs. “Where’d it start?”

“I don’t know.”

[ejzah]

Have you ever seen or written a story where Deeks opens the box right away. When Kensi first gives it to him in the bullpen and it’s her dads ring?

A/N: I modified the scene a little bit extra to fit my interpretation and vision. Hope you approve!

***

Everything You’ve Ever Wanted

Deeks stares down at The Box, which Kensi has just informed him is actually his box, sure this is some kind of trick.

“What's in the box?”

“Open it and find out,” Kensi suggests casually. Like she really doesn’t care either way. He’s not sure what she’s playing at, but it has him on edge. More than his false panic at finding the box on his desk.

“Listen, is this some sort of, uh, devilish trick that's payback for me snooping?”

“No, it’s a present. Which you should open.” She gives a nod to the box, settling back in her chair with a cup of coffee. “Or not. Thought it would be rude.”

“Alright, let us know when you’ve finished this fascinating debate,” Sam speaks up, rolling his eyes at them as he gets up. “C’mon G.”

“Where do you plan on going?” Callen asks, following after him.

“Somewhere that isn’t here.”

“Are you going to open it now that we don’t have an audience,” Kensi prompts a minute later.

Deeks sets The Box back down on his desk, vaguely amused that the words appear capitalized in his mind.

“So what you’re telling me is that you want me to open the infamous box that everyone from Hetty to Granger to that visiting agent we wouldn’t stand knows about. I can open this box now?” he checks.

“Yes, Deeks.” She watches him for a moment, then rises, reaching into her waistband. She comes back with a knife, smiling a little as she stops in front of him, and draws the blade through the plastic securing the pieces of cardboard in one swift movement. “There, got it all started for you.” She inhales sharply; it wouldn’t even be noticeable if she wasn’t standing close, and Deeks wasn’t so attuned to her.

When he glances up, his full attention shifting from the box, to her, he sees she looks slightly nervous. It’s a pretty rare sight.

“Do I get any hints?” He rests his hands atop the box, fingering the edges of the flaps.

“It’s something that you want more than anything else in the world,” she she tells him.

And isn’t that a loaded answer? Cause he knows for certain what he wants more than anything, and he’s pretty sure it can’t be contained within any box. He flicks a final glance at Kensi before he pulls the flaps open. There’s another, smaller box within, which turns out be filled with bubble wrap, rolled around a third, minute wooden box.

He raises an eyebrow at Kensi’s sense of humor as he slides the final (hopefully) lid aside, dumping the contents into his palm. It’s a burnished wedding band. That certainly wasn’t what he expected.

“You gave me a ring?” he says, and it comes out like a question.

“Yeah. It’s not just any ring though,” Kensi shuffles her feet, looking down for a few seconds. It’s been a while since he’s seen her so uncomfortable, which makes him think that the ring he’s holding has a hell of a lot more significance than he realizes. “It’s my dad’s,” she finishes in the softest of whispers.

“Your dad—Kensi,” he whispers, for once speechless. For the last three years they’ve danced around each other and laughed off any possible feelings, yet now she’s giving him a highly significant keepsake. “What does this mean?” he finally settles on, holding up the ring so it glints in the morning light.

Kensi swallows visibly, fingers twisting together, and takes a hesitant step forward. She untwines her finger to lift her hand, moving slowly like he might run off if she goes to fast. He watches her hand clasp cover his wrist, touch softer than it’s ever been before. When he lifts his head, they’re just inches away from each other.

“It means I’m hoping you’ll take the next step with me,” she says hoarsely. And then, there in the middle of the bullpen, she lifts her chin, and kisses him. Her lips are soft, gently searching for a few moments. When she drops back down, her eyes are soft with uncertainty.

Deeks curls his fingers around the ring, using his free hand to tug Kensi closer again. He presses a kiss to her forehead and breathes in deeply.

“You’re right, this is everything I wanted,” he tells her.

***

A/N: For the record, I’m in the camp that the ring was not the original contents of the box. That being said, this was fun to write.

Thanks for the prompt!