#I still need to catch up with all the other games you've tagged me in lmao

[wiishopwednesday]

longing for something you can never return to

[ID: a collection of images relating to nostalgia. the first image is a genius screenshot of the lyrics to car seat headrest's "famous prophets (stars)." the screenshot reads "We gotta go back/We gotta go back/We gotta go back/We gotta go back." the second image is the "we got the torture labyrinth tomorrow" meme template, edited to instead say "We got missing what we can never return to tomorrow/What?/We got the beginning of the rest of our lives tomorrow/Ohhhh/Okay." the third image is a discord screenshot, with the user's username and icon cropped out so that only the text is visible, and reads "Duuudeee you missed out on those 7 days where god created earth you are fucked LOL." the fourth image is a screenshot of a piece of text, which reads in bolder font "You can never leave home." underneath it, in normal text, it reads "You take it with you no matter where you go. Home is between your teeth, under your fingernails, in the hair follicles, in your smile, in the ride of your hips, in the passage of your breasts." the fifth image is a screenshot of a post made by tumblr user ryebreadgf, which reads "YOU CAN NEVER GO BACK! YOU CAN NEVER GO BACK! YOU CAN BITE AND SCRATCH AND BEG BUT YOU CAN NEVER GO BACK!" the sixth image is a screenshot of a piece of text that reads, "YOU KILL YOURSELF AND IMMEDIATELY WAKE UP AS A CHILD ON YOUR PARENTS BED. YOU'VE BEEN ASLEEP FOR HALF AN HOUR. THE SUN IS SHINING." the seventh image is a picture of two uneven dark yellow boxed next to each other on a off-white background. the first box reads, in handwriting, "I'm terrified of change." the second box reads, "I'm terrified of staying this way forever." the eighth image is a screenshot of a post made by tumblr user dakotajohnsongf, which reads "women be looking at pictures of their childhood selves and trying to find a way back to them." the ninth image is a screenshot of a post made by tumblr user bestofgentleearth, containing a screenshot from a forum of some kind. a line of text reads "(16 hours ago) butterfly said:" underneath, an indented section of text reads "today, the world looked beautiful again. i'm starting to remember what kept me alive last summer." the tenth image is another tumblr post by user cursedsuggestion, which reads "the friend you miss comes home for good. you never see another mirror. it's summer forever and that terrible thought you keep having finally disappears." the eleventh image is a screenshot of a reddit post, with the original poster's username and icon cropped out so only the text is visible. it reads "I'm not sure how to word this, but I constantly go through this deep sense of loss. I feel like I terribly miss something I love from the bottom of my heart, but I don't know what it is, exactly. Nothing in life satisfies me, nothing makes me content, but l wouldn't say I'm depressed either. There's just this endless search for something, and at times I feel I can catch a glimpse of it - different sceneries pop into my head at times, like of a particular beach at night, and I'm moved to tears. Or I remember a dream and all the feelings that were stirring while I saw that dream, and feel entirely connected to them." the twelfth image is a screenshot of a tumblr post, but the original poster is cropped out so only the text is visible, which reads "wait i wasn't ready. i never finished that game of tag. i still need to learn how to do a cartwheel. my friends and i never finished making that bridge over the creek. i want to go back. can you carry me to bed one last time? and maybe i'll wake up tomorrow in my childhood room with my pink walls and we'll laugh over this dream at breakfast." the thirteenth image is another tumblr screenshot of a post by user heavensghost, which reads "uhhh yh sure u can go back but no one will be waiting for you there."

the fourteenth image is a screenshot of a reddit comment, with the user's information cropped out so that only the text is visible, which reads "HIRAETH (heer-eye-th) 'A deep homesickness; an intense form of longing or nostalgia for a place long gone, or even an unaccountable homesickness for a place you have never visited. A pull on the heart that conveys a distinct feeling of missing something irretrievably lost.'" the fifteenth image is a collection of 3 rows of black boxes, with 3 boxes in each row. the first box has a white, vague form of a human. the second box pictures the human form stretching its arms and legs out. from the third box onward, the human figure starts to dissipate into white dots until it has completely disappeared and only dots remain. the sixteenth image is a tumblr post by user n1ntendos, which reads "I AM HAUNTED BY A PAST I CANNOT GO BACK TO !!!!!!! anyways." the seventeenth image is a screenshot of text that reads "I cling to everything - CDs that skip, rings that turn my fingers green, the dead ends of my hair, old love notes that turn my stomach over and over. And I'm not proud but there are still boxes under my bed. And I'm not proud but my closet is still running out of space. And nostalgia is a fucking waste of time but my heart is full with it. Tell me I won't hold this forever. Tell me there will be a day where I let gloriously go." the eighteenth image is an image of larger text that reads "It's a summer day, and I want to be wanted more than anything else in the world." the nineteenth image is a photograph of a large white dog standing in a dark, flowing river surrounded by a dark forest and green trees. the dog is facing away from the viewer with its mouth open. the dog appears to be glowing, likely due to a lens flare of some kind. the entire picture feels very melancholy and nostalgic. the twentieth image is larger text that reads "Nostalgia is the aching realization that you can't go back again. The longing, no matter how intense, can never be met." the twenty-first image is a screenshot of an instagram dm, with the user's username and icon cropped out so that only the text is visible, and it reads "well the time passes anyway so I have to." the twenty-second image is a screenshot of the spotify lyrics for gerard way's song "action cat." the lyrics read "Hey/Do you miss me?/'Cause I miss you/Do you miss me?/'Cause I miss you/Do you miss me?/'Cause I miss you/Do you miss me?/'Cause I miss you too." the twenty-third image is a screenshot of text that reads "YOUR CHILDHOOD DOG IS ALIVE. YOUR DEAD BEST FRIEND WANTS TO GET COFFEE. YOU HAVE BEEN KIND AND GOOD. THERE IS NOTHING CHASING YOU. YOU CAN SLEEP. WHAT DO YOU DO?" the twenty-fourth image is a continuation of the lyrics from car seat headrest's "famous prophets (stars)" that were pictured in the first image. these lyrics read "We've gotta go back/We've gotta go back/We've gotta go back/(Don't spend too much time on it)." end ID.]

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part twenty-eight —other parts

pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader words: 4.4k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex!!! SEX. enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival.

France feels just as haunted by ghosts, the kind that cling to silence.

The next morning, you follow the road south near the Belgium border under a punishing sun and suffocating humidity. Sweat pools under your clothes as you leave the coastline behind, passing overgrown rose bushes and grand estates crumbling to rotted beams. Without the raft or truck, supplies rest on everyone's backs, lighter now with all the food you’ve already gone through—a stark reminder that you’ll need more soon.

You were the last to wake, stirred from a deep sleep by the sounds of bags being packed. It shouldn’t be surprising—you’d slept well after two orgasms. It’s a miracle the night’s events didn’t spill into your dreams, but now, in the daylight, keeping them at bay is harder. Thankfully, Kyle and the two kids create a buffer as you all follow Price’s lead. Their presence helps keep your eyes from drifting to him. You force your gaze on the passing signs, making a mental game out of trying to pick up on some French. It's distracting enough. So far you've gathered that sortie means exit and allez means something like go. 

The first break comes when your shoulders burn from the weight of the backpack, the straps biting into your skin. You slip it off with a groan, sinking to the ground, and nurse the canteen of water. Just enough to wet your throat and keep the dizziness at bay—rationing is a habit.

Price's plan echoes in your head: Méteren by nightfall. That’s ten hours of walking, minimum. Your toes throb at the thought, each step promising fresh blisters, but you force yourself to focus. The faster you reach Switzerland, the safer you’ll all be. If the place they heard of is actually waiting there.

"Hey. Do you want this?"

Blue lowers beside you, offering a near-empty jar of peanut butter she was snacking on.

"Not much left but it's really good," she shrugs. 

"I'll finish it off, thanks."

The salty taste is not exactly refreshing, but you choke it down anyway, the boost of protein more of a necessity than a pleasure. Blue pulls at the grass beside you, her gaze drifting to Ari, who’s sharing food with Kyle. You try not to look, but your eyes flick to Ghost anyway.

The mask is still on, as always. Why is he obsessed with it, even after you just saw him naked? Despite its presence, you can still see the furrow between his brows as he pores over the map with Price. Sweat rings the collar of his black tee, and his biceps flex as he gestures down the road. You’re definitely checking him out when he catches your eye mid-conversation, adjusting his mask, and without missing a beat, you turn your attention back to Blue.

She is staring at you, her brow furrowed.

You instinctively touch your neck, your thoughts racing to the bruise hidden beneath your hair. 

“Do you think he likes him?” she asks abruptly.

You blink. “What?”

“Ghost,” she whispers, leaning closer. “Do you think he likes Ari?”

Relief floods you. “Oh. I mean, sure. He's a good kid.”

“He’s not a kid,” she corrects with a huff. “He’s thirteen.”

“That’s still a kid, Blue.”

She rolls her eyes but hesitates before adding quietly, “He kissed me.”

Your jaw nearly drops. “What?”

“Shh! Keep your voice down. And don’t tell Ghost.” She pinches your arm, her cheeks reddening.

“I won’t,” you assure her. “But… when? How?”

“The other night, when we kept watch. Just on my cheek, but still.” She pulls her knees to her chest. “He's cute. I think I like him, but… what if he doesn’t actually like me? What if he just sees me as a kid?”

Her uncertainty tugs at something deep in you. “Have you talked to him about it?”

She shakes her head, looking horrified. “No way. What if he doesn't feel the same? It could get weird.”

“Then kill him,” you deadpan. At her glare, your lips twitch. “Fine, I’ll kill him.”

She snorts despite herself. “Be serious.”

“Okay, how about this—just ask him, ‘Why did you kiss my cheek?’ Keep it simple.”

Blue considers this, her expression softening. “I could do that. But it has to be when Ghost isn’t around. Which is almost never.”

You're telling me. You pick at your nails, avoiding her trusting gaze as your chest tightens. 

The sound of Price's boots back on the gravel ends the break.

Even after the brief rest, your limbs drag with exhaustion for the next few hours, but the extra calories push you forward. You make it to Méteren before nightfall. As the guys pitch tents, you rip off your socks to survey the damage. Open blisters stare back at you. With only so much gauze in your kit, you've been hesitant, but you cut a conservative strand and wrap up your heels. 

Behind a bush, you change from your sweaty clothes and hope there is freshwater somewhere to wash them in the morning. You dab a rag with a bit of water from the canteen and scrub the biggest offenders; armpits, between your legs, the back of your neck. Changing into a clean shirt, the sound of them unpacking the sleeping bags beckons your heavy shoulders and sore legs. You head back to the tents, ready for sleep, when you overhear Ghost volunteer for first watch.

"Twix will help me."

You hope the surprise isn't visible on your face as you nearly drop your backpack, swinging your gaze at him.

"I will?"

"It's been a few days since you've taken watch."

Your lips roll together then flatten, shoving down the blush that crawls your neck at the thought of being alone with him. Kyle looks like he is ready to take your place, but you nod in resignation, clear your throat, and finish tugging on the zipper over your clothes. "Yeah, of course. I'll help."

The others disappear into the tents, and you turn to sit on a fallen log, bow in hand. But before you can settle, you feel his presence—a shift in the air just behind you, then the solid pressure of his hand curling around your forearm. Without a word, he guides you forward, pulling you with an ease that leaves no room for hesitation. Your body moves instinctively as he leads you out of earshot of the tents, behind an abandoned car. It is now you realize he's changed into a black hoodie and shedded the tactical vest. He leans his rifle against the side of the car and looks down at you, saying nothing for a few seconds.

"Did you take away my chance to sleep and pull me over here just to stare at me?" you whisper, arms crossing against the gentle breeze that has cooled with the fallen sun.

He exhales through his nose before responding. "About yesterday."

You blink at him, hoping you don't fail at hiding how even the mere mention sets your nerves alight. "What about it?"

The way his eyes move slowly over your face suggests he is searching for the words. Finally, he says flatly, "It was just fucking. A distraction."

"A distraction," you repeat slowly under your breath. The bluntness hits you harder than expected. You bite the corner of your cheek, a bit too hard, and you narrow your eyes. "You really think I don't already know that?"

His broad shoulders roll back in a shrug and his tone shifts far too casual for your liking. "I just didn't want you getting the wrong idea."

The wrong idea. You rip your gaze away, scraping your fingertips into your arm, before looking back at him with a forced shrug of your own. "I can handle fucking, Simon. Like I said, I'm a big girl."

There is an audible inhale, then a low chuckle rumbles in his throat as he leans in, his darkened eyes locking onto yours. He cages you in with his arms, the familiar heat radiating from his touch and already making your brain fuzzy. His hand slides to the back of your neck, guiding you onto your toes as he tears off the mask and lays it on the hood of the car. The glimpse of his strong jaw and the flick of his tongue wetting his lips sends a shiver through you despite the lingering irritation at his words. 

"Yes. You are," he murmurs, his voice rough and low, before capturing your mouth with his in a kiss that feels like the deep, soothing release of sinking into warm water after aching for relief.

You could kiss him for hours, you quickly realize, pleasantly fascinated by how hot and demanding his tongue feels against your mouth. He tastes like how he smells. Pine and salt. You submit to the pace of his lips, every graze of his teeth making your heart thicken. You move your hands through his hair, scratching his scalp, pulling him closer.

"There's something I need," he mumbles, voice etched with a tremble of impatience, and his fingers clench your shirt. With his other hand, he blindly reaches for the car door and forces the rusted thing open with a few tugs. 

"What do you need?" you breathe out, secretly thrilled that he wants you, again, even when it's been only twenty-four hours since he last had you. The mutual desire erodes the fatigue in your limbs and awakens your arousal. 

Without an answer, he spins your bodies, easing into the passenger seat, then pulls you in with him, closing the door with a soft click. The position is awkward at best—your head bumps into the roof, one knee wedged painfully into the center console from the lack of space. The car smells like stale leather and dust, but thankfully not like rot. It's far from enticing, but none of that matters when he forces the seat to recline, creating just enough room for you to lay on top of him.

You can feel him, hot and straining within his jeans, as you kiss him again and begin to move your hips instinctively. It is a thrilling notion, that you have made him hard so quickly, and you wonder if he ever touched himself like you did, stroking his cock with a callused hand that he imagined as you. The image of it, in combination with the friction on your pussy, has you greedily reaching to undo his belt buckle. 

He breaks from your lips with a grunt and grabs your wrist. "Not that."

Huh?

You don't have the chance to question him before the notch in his throat bobs, and he begins unzipping your jeans, instead. "My face. Sit on it." 

The blush on your cheeks is hidden in the car's small, dark space. His half-lidded gaze lifts to yours, and you nod absently before helping him push your pants and underwear to your ankles, shifting awkwardly to discard them to the floor. His hand immediately moves between your bodies, his fingers brushing against your wetness with a sharp inhale. It should make you embarrassed, but it doesn’t—not with the way he watches you, his other hand peeling off your shirt, the whites of his eyes flashing over your naked body with such unabashed hunger that you realize it must’ve been simmering in him for as long as it has in you.

Again, you're the only one undressed. His hands knead the plush of your ass, the massage to your sore glutes drawing a moan from you. He pushes you up his chest and you move your knees, until his face is level with your cunt, nose caressing your throbbing clit. You have to grip the headrest of the backseat to keep yourself steady, neck craned. His palms cup the backs of your thighs, keeping them apart. 

He's already put his mouth on you, but for some reason, this time feels more vulnerable. You become unconsciously alert of the fact you are not the girl you used to be, the one who shaved every inch of her body before going on a date, and scrubbed her skin with perfumed body wash. You have been sweating all day in the French humidity, and not a single part of you is hairless. When he attempts to pull you to his mouth, you resist with a wiggle of your hips.

"You don't—we don't have to do this, you know. I mean, I haven't shaved in years and—"

He bites your thigh. "Stop talking."

"Ghost, I'm disgusting."

His brows furrow, confused, before he exhales a soft laugh, breath fanning your cunt. "I don't care."

You writhe. "No, seriously—"

"I'm a big boy, Twix," he throws back you.

His tone is final, and with that, he ignores your protests and tightens his hands on you, pulling you to sit on his jaw. His tongue licks a bold stripe from hole to clit, then back down to your hole, where he swirls it a few times before pushing in. Your mouth hangs open in a silent surrender. It is you at his mercy now. His mouth feels even hotter on your cunt for some reason, causing your head to lull forward because of the ceiling, hair dangling. 

Your nails scrape into the leather. His tongue fucks you, nursing the sore flesh that his cock had stretched. He pushes you down with more force, and meets the juncture of your thighs with an arch of his neck, pressing his face deeper. There is a small worry that he might not be able to breathe, but it is erased when his tongue visits your clit with a heady groan, the vibrations of his vocal chords making your muscles flinch. He circles it with a light pressure. You reach down to grip his hair, silently demanding more. He listens, pressing his tongue harder.

"Fucking... yeah, like that."

One of his hands glides up your stomach and squeezes your breast. He keeps sucking, toiling with your puckered nipple at a similar pace. Despite the uncomfortable position, your hips buck and thrash. Your hand slaps against the window as he makes a sloppy mess out of you. The overgrown stubble on his jaw scrapes between your tightened thighs and the sting adds to the overwhelming sensations. You attempt to lift off, seeking a break, but he growls and strikes your ass, forcing you back down.

He licks at you expertly, as if having figured you out in just a few minutes. You screw your eyes shut, a small but swift orgasm rolling through you when you hear him slurp at your folds. He gathers it with a sweep of his tongue, humming. The aftermath leaves your trembling, breath jagged, as a larger one grows towards release.

"Been thinking about that all day," he whispers against you, continuing his ministrations. "Got another one for me?"

His tone feels mocking and desperate at once. Your nails press painfully into the condensation-painted glass. Your other hand fists back in his hair, curling and uncurling, but there is no point in trying to fight it, not when he parts your cunt with his fingers so he can lick more of it. You cum again, harder, almost convulsing as your head bangs upward. It feels never-ending, your moans uncontrollable. He laps you through it, even more relentless, drawing the pleasure for a near-minute, until your lungs can hardly function and you feel like you might collapse.

Your body is pliant and jelly-like when it finally fades. He takes hold of your waist to keep you upright, and pulls his mouth away with a dribble of leakage down his chin. Already, you know it will be impossible to forget that sight, his eyes dazed as if he is the one who just came twice. 

His touch turns somewhat tender when he helps you back down to his lap. He doesn't bother wiping the obscenity from his mouth when he kisses the corner of your lips, firmly, then helps you slip back into your clothes since your brain doesn't seem to have full control over your limbs yet. It's when you place a hand on his thigh to shimmy on your jeans that you feel a distinguishable wet spot.

He finished, too.

The discovery makes your chest swell, and you nibble at your lip as you finish changing. 

"Thanks," you whisper to him. 

He doesn't say anything. He keeps the seat reclined and allows you to lay limp against him, feeling the uneven pace of his heart that matches your own. Clearly, he is a man of his word. This will not be a one time thing, even if it is just fucking. You sigh in sheer exhaustion from the day's activities, unable to ignore the weight in your eyelids as you inhale the residual musk in the air between your bodies. His chest feels firm and warm, a decent place to rest your head, and you think you feel a touch caress your hair. 

You are supposed to be staying up to keep watch, but he doesn't seem ready to move you. Somewhere between wondering how long you can keep this hidden from Blue, and dreading how far you will have to walk again tomorrow, you drift to sleep.

When morning arrives, you are not curled up in a car, but tucked in a sleeping bag. 

Ghost must've put you here, but you have no recollection of it, squinting your eyes against the harsh incoming of sunlight through the nylon walls. Nereida is in the bag beside you, not Blue, which offers a thread of relief. You carefully extricate yourself without waking her and join an awakened Price and Kyle for breakfast.

This morning feels slower than the last. Satisfied with the distance covered yesterday, Price is content with just making it to a town called Englos today. Then, you can focus on finding food and water during the evening. 

Your energy is replenished with tomato soup and stale crackers. Blue sits with Ari to eat, and you casually glance at her, but she gives you a subtle shake of her head. No, she hasn't talked to him yet. You offer a small, forced smile and look away.

The day's journey begins after what you would guess is around 8 am. As you walk, you redo your braids, tucking the strands into place so they don't stick to your forehead. Kyle falls in step beside you in comfortable silence, while Ghost moves to the front of the group. He treats you exactly as before—offering only the rare glance of acknowledgment. As if you hadn't just sat on his face last night. As if he hadn't ate you out like you were a source of sustenance.

Though, you’re grateful for his distance. It makes it easier to stay discreet. If he were to look at you too long, you might give yourself away.

It's just fucking.

Nothing but small towns and sprawling fields surrounds you. You pick up a few more words of French and think back to how your parents took you here, but never to the countryside. It's beautiful. Picturesque, even, except for the occasional skeleton tucked between ambery stalks of wheat. You pass through a place called Bailleul, where the remaining buildings remind you of England, when you spot black graffiti inked on a small clock tower.

N'allez pas à Fleurbaix.

"Allez means go," you murmur, stepping over some broken glass. "So what does n'allez pas mean..."

"Picking up a new language?"

You swing your head at Kyle, blinking, and he chuckles lightly at your reaction. 

"Yeah. I thought it might come in handy when chatting with the thriving local population."

He shakes his head in amusement. "Have you been here before?"

"When I was a kid. Once to Paris, and once to a ski resort."

"Ah. So you were one of those kids."

You frown. "What kids?"

"The kids who had money to go skiing."

You shrug, thinking back. "I mean, we weren't rich by any means. Just comfortable."

He nods, the companionable silence resuming as you replay the graffitied words in your head. N'allez pas must mean do not go. Do not go to Fleurbaix. You are about to ask Kyle if that is where you are headed when he speaks first.

"Are we good, Twix?"

His question throws you off guard. You make eye contact and he raises an expectant brow as if he is referring to something...

Right. He kissed you. It feels like forever ago since it happened, but it was only a week maybe. The memory almost makes you cringe, especially in comparison to what you've done with Ghost the past two days.

"Yeah," you dismiss breathily. "Yeah, of course. We're good."

He seems genuinely relieved by your answer, smiling with a sliver of teeth. "Good. I'm glad. I was an idiot and not in the right headspace. But still, I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable. I've been trying to give you space."

"It's fine, honestly," you tell him. "We are all under a lot of stress."

He releases a breath, then brushes a shoulder against yours. "So we're friends, you and I? Or something like that."

You nod with a little laugh, shifting the backpack. "Something like that. By the way, do you know if we are going by a place called—"

"Gaz. Come here for a moment," Ghost calls.

His tone is abrupt, causing everyone to halt. Without question, Kyle jogs over, his boots scraping against the gravel as he moves toward Ghost, who is crouched on one knee, fingers brushing over the matted grass at the side of the road. You squint, trying to figure out what’s caught their attention, and step closer to get a better look.

"A lot of them," Kyle says quietly, his palm pressing gently into the flattened vegetation. Now, you can see it—clear signs of something recently passing through. The ground is torn up, the plants bent and trampled. "It can't have been long ago," he adds, frowning as he observes the damage.

Ghost doesn't look up as he responds. "A horde went through here. Maybe in the last day." He inhales the humid breeze, and shifts his gaze toward Price. "I can smell them from the east."

"We could run right into them if we keep following the D231," Price mutters, drumming his fingers on the rear of his gun. He glances at the nearest road signs, then unfolds the map. "We could shift west for a few kilometers, through Fleurbaix, then cut back toward Englos."

"I just saw something that warned against going to Fleurbaix," you speak up.

Ghost's brow rises. You ignore the nerves that prickle your cheeks beneath his stare. 

"I mean, there are signs saying keep out of everywhere by now," Kyle reasons. "That's probably from the start of the infection."

"It's either Fleurbaix, or risk a run in with the horde," Ghost says.

You nod, more so to yourself, and murmur under your breath. "Fleurbaix it is, then."

Bailleul fades at your backs as you keep moving.

The scent of Greys lingers in the shifting air, but it is difficult to detect amid the strong aroma of flowers that pop up in every shade, replacing the fields of wheat. Roses, violets, and some yellow one you don't recognize ornate the rolling hills for as far as you can see. The buildings turn more upright, strong stone that has yet to falter from neglect. You keep reading the signs, even though you don't have the map to refer to, and your spine tightens when you read Fleurbaix: 1 km. 

You unsling your bow without thinking, tapping your nails against the wood.

The road becomes a bit windier as it cuts through some small farms. You even spot a few cows roaming the overgrown pastures which Blue seems curious by. You notice more painted words on the sides of the homes: Nous devons expier nos péchés. It repeats a few times, but you fail to translate it. The only part that clicks is nous, which you think means we.

We something... something...

After crossing a small bridge over a dried creek bed, you excuse yourself to relieve your bladder.

"Keep going, I'll catch up."

You step over what looks like a metal dog chain left on the road and situate yourself between a tree and old BMW. Squatting burns your thighs, and reminds you of your dried cum on them that you've tried, yet failed, to completely wipe off. You clench your teeth as you pee, when there is a sudden sound behind you that makes you flinch, and you quickly zip back up before whirling around. A rat—your shoulders sink. It sits up on its hind legs and stares at you with beady eyes.

"I guess I'm just jumpy sometimes, little guy," you whisper, leaning in. "You would be, too, if you've had to deal with what I have." The rat doesn’t blink. "Right. Well, I’m sure Ghost would think this is incredibly sexy—me having a talk with a rodent."

You sigh, watching him scurry away, but then another rat darts over your boot. You jerk back, gaze following its direction to an old building—a schoolhouse or chapel, judging by the circular stained-glass window below the roof. Beautiful shrubs lines the sides, seemingly well-kept. The door hangs ajar, with more vermin pouring out in an endless line.

"Jesus. Quite a lot of friends you have, huh?"

You glance down the road. The others are still close but walking ahead. You should catch up. It's not safe alone. But against your better judgment, you step toward the door, pushing it open. Rats scatter underfoot as a thick, rancid smell hits you. Death—fresh and cloying, even more so than the flowers.

Blood streaks the stone floor inside, pooling where vermin feast. Splintered pews lead to an altar. You freeze. Lying there ceremoniously is what's left of a body, hardly recognizable—ribs torn through flesh, a dangling optic nerve, a mangled groin. A plethora of bite marks cleave through the remains. Bile rises in your throat as the sound of gnawing echoes through against the sun-lit walls.

But what truly grips you is the writing, in blood, draped over a small cross.

Nous devons expier nos péchés.

You whip around and run, the door closing heavily behind you.

"Simon!" His name claws up your throat.

[charmedimsure]

THE NEXT EPISODE || thanos

pairing: Thanos/Choi Su-bong x f!reader

summary: You and Su-bong reunite after his stay at rehab. No debt/no games AU.

word count: 3.2k

warnings: rehab, drinking, drugs, addiction, depression

A/N: i've been working on this for like two weeks and i still feel like i could work on it more. i love this mini series i made and i'm excited to see how other people like it :) if you find any mistakes no you didn't <3

Part 1: Wake Up Call

Today is the big day. The day Su-bong has been working towards for the past six months.

Today he gets out of rehab.

He originally tried to quit on his own, but after multiple relapses, he decided he needed help. Due to his multiple addictions and how long he's been addicted for, the doctors at the facility suggested a longer stay for him, to which he agreed.

Before he left, he gave you the keys to his apartment, putting you in charge of managing the place while he's away. You also promised to get rid of anything in his apartment that could potentially be abused.

Rehab had actually not been bad. It certainly wasn't easy, but Su-bong felt better about it knowing there were so many other people there going through the same thing as him. He had ended up making some really good friends there, friends that he was excited to see again once they all got out. A few of them had made plans to meet up at a coffee house soon, about a week after Su-bong is released.

The thing Su-bong has been looking forward to the most while in rehab is seeing you again. The only visitors that were allowed were family members, so he had to settle for just talking to you on the phone.

"Can I see you soon?" Su-bong asks into the phone.

"I have to work today, but I'm off tomorrow if you want to come by?" you say. "Oh, and I left something for you on your counter."

Su-bong smiles into the phone. "You didn't have to do that."

"Don't get too excited, it's not much," you laugh. "But I just wanted to give you something to congratulate you."

"I'll be happy with anything you give me," he says.

"Cheesy," you groan, making him laugh. A small gasp comes from Su-bong's phone. "Shoot, my boss just texted me I have to go in early. I'm sorry, I gotta go. Text me when you get home, okay?"

"All good," Su-bong says. "Yeah, I'll text you. Let me know when you get to the club and back home safe."

"I will," he can hear the smile in your voice. "I'll see you tomorrow."

<>

Su-bong walks into his apartment. A chill washes over him. It's been so long since he was here, and he's changed so much. He puts his things down, walking into his kitchen.

A feeling of dread fills him. Was six months enough? Is he really able to do this?

A glint catches his eye, and he sees a small chain sitting on his counter. Attached to it is a dog tag. He picks it up, examining it. When he notices a clasp on the side of the dog tag, he opens it, revealing a small note in your handwriting.

'I'm proud of you <3'

A comfortable warmth fills his body as he smiles at your note. He closes the tag, immediately putting the chain around his neck.

He looks around his place. It holds way too many memories of his time before rehab. Waking up with a headache so bad he's worried his head might implode, turning over to see some random girl in his bed who's name he can't remember. That's not how he wants to live anymore.

He takes a water bottle from the fridge, which you must have put in there for him, and sits on his couch, looking up listings for available apartments. Preferably one close to you.

<>

Su-bong feels his heart race as he stands in front of your apartment door. He's been waiting for this moment for six months. With a deep breath, he knocks on the door.

Footsteps are heard from the other side of the door. Something makes a loud bang and he hears you curse, making his lips twitch upwards.

The door opens and there you are. He swears you've only gotten more beautiful since he last saw you.

"Woah, I almost didn't recognize you," you smile.

He smiles, sheepishly scratching the back of his head. He hadn't dyed his hair since before rehab, leaving it at its natural dark brown. "Yeah, I've been getting that a lot."

"I like it," you say. "You look much more like Su-bong."

He feels his face heat up, muttering a shy 'thank you'.

You step to the side, opening the door wider. "Come in! I'll go grab a snack."

Su-bong walks into your apartment, a smile playing on his face at the familiar set up. You move to the kitchen and he sits on your couch. He chuckles at the new blanket laying next to him, clearly having been used recently.

He looks up as you walk back into the room, placing a bowl of pretzels and a bottle of blue Gatorade on the coffee table in front of him. You remembered.

He gestures toward the blanket. "That new?"

You put a pretzel in your mouth and smile at him, nodding enthusiastically. "My mom got it for me. You have to feel it, it's so soft." He chuckles as you cover your mouth with your hand, too excited to tell him about the blanket to wait until you've swallowed your food.

He reaches out to the blanket, eyes widening when his fingers graze the fabric. "Holy shit."

"Right?!" you laugh, picking up the blanket and sitting down. You toss it over both of your legs. You take a moment to study his face. "You look really good, Su-bong."

He feels himself blush, turning away in embarrassment. "Yeah, my pupils are finally the correct size."

You laugh at the comment. "Yes, that. But you also just look much healthier. Much happier."

He nods. "I feel happier. I thought I was happy all those nights at the club, drinking away my life. But now I know that wasn't real happiness." He looks at you, looking deep into your eyes. "This is real happiness."

Now it's your turn to look away, feeling heat rush to your face. "I'm glad. You deserve happiness."

He smiles.

"Even though you once tried to pay me to take off my shirt."

Su-bong cringes, bringing his hand to his face as you laugh. "Can you please stop bringing that up?"

You shake your head. "No way. This is the punishment you get for that. Me making fun of you. I think it's a fair exchange."

He laughs. "Fair enough."

You continue talking for the next hour or so, telling each other about everything and nothing. Su-bong's heart soars every time he is able to make you laugh. He's made music his entire life, but no song could ever compare to the sweet tune of your laughter.

"On Sunday I'm gonna meet up with a few friends from rehab at that new coffee place around the corner," he says. "Do you want to come?"

You shake your head. "Thank you for the invitation but I don't want to intrude."

"You wouldn't be intruding," he assures. "I, uh, talked about you a lot and they really want to meet you."

Your face heats up at his admission, nodding. "In that case, I'd love to go."

He smiles. "Good."

You put on a movie to watch, saying you saw one while he was away and couldn't wait to show it to him. Throughout the movie, Su-bong sneaks glances at you. He's wanted you ever since he first laid his eyes on you. You were the hot bartender with a fiery personality.

Now, though, as he watches you chew your lip in concentration, he sees just how amazing you truly are. You're the beautiful girl who changed his life for the better. The amazing girl who gave him a reason to become a better person. The kind girl who talked on the phone with him every day while he was in rehab.

You're his best friend. And he's deeply in love with you.

<>

Su-bong opens the door to the coffee house, letting you walk inside first before entering as well.

"Hey, Su-bong!" a voice yells, getting his attention. He smiles when he sees his friends, waving at them. He motions for you to follow him as you head over to the table.

"Hey guys," he greets, giving each of them a small hug. It feels nice to see them on the outside. They all accomplished the same thing, and they'll forever be close for doing it together.

He looks to you. "Oh right. This is Jung-su, Shin-il, and Ji-hae."

Each of them wave and smile at you as he says their names. Once he introduces you, they all seem to get a similar look on their faces.

"Oh, so you're the girl he keeps talking about," Shin-il smirks. Su-bong lightly smacks his arm, making the boy laugh.

"Shin-il, be quiet!" Ji-hae rolls her eyes. She turns to you. "He told us about how you helped him get sober. We're glad he had someone so supportive helping him."

You smile. "I just wanted to help any way I could. He's the one who ultimately chose to get help." You smile at him and he feels his heart melt. "And I'm glad he was able to make some great friends in there, from what he's told me."

"Aw, you talked about us?" Jung-su flashes Su-bong with puppy eyes, making the ladder roll his own.

"Plus, now he doesn't call me 'Señorita' anymore, so really I got something out of it too," you say.

The table bursts out in laughter and Su-bong hides his face behind his hands. "Maybe it was a mistake bringing you here, I didn't realize you were all going to gang up on me."

You laugh, rubbing his arm. "I'm just kidding. Come on, let's go get something to drink."

You move to stand but he puts a hand on your shoulder. "I got it. What do you want?"

You tell him your order, thanking him as he walks to the counter.

Ji-hae leans across the table to you. "He really likes you, you know," she smiles. "Talked about you all the time."

You smile. "He's a really great guy. I wish I could've talked to him sooner, maybe he would've gotten help sooner. He's my best friend now."

"You should go out with him," she says. "Based on how he talked about you, he'd treat you right."

You turn to look at Su-bong, smiling as he rocks back and forth on his feet while waiting in line.

"I do like him," you say, turning back to Ji-hae. "I just want to give him some time first. He just got out of rehab, I feel like he should have some time to figure out what he really wants and adjust to sobriety, if that makes sense."

"Totally," Jung-su says, nodding his head. "I've been out two months now and I still feel like this is all new."

"Just please be there for him," Shin-il asks.

You nod. "I'm not going anywhere."

On the other side of the coffee house, while waiting for your drinks, Su-bong feels a hand grasp his shoulder.

"Holy shit man," a familiar voice says behind him. "You dropped off the face of the earth!"

Su-bong turns to see the smiling face of Nam-gyu.

"Where have you been, dude?"

Su-bong opens his mouth to answer but is cut off when Nam-gyu continues.

"You know what, it doesn't matter." He pulls a small bag out of his jacket pocket. "I just got some new shit. It's fucking insane, man. You gotta try it."

He stares at the pills. This is the first time that drugs have been so accessible to him since before rehab. A cold sweat breaks out and his breath gets quicker. It would be so easy. All he'd have to do is pop one little pill.

He turns back to look at the table. You're sitting there, laughing with Jung-su. The sound flows to his ears and a soft smile graces his face. The sweat stops and his breathing goes back to normal.

He doesn't need pills anymore. He has you. And you make him so much happier than pills ever have or ever will.

He turns back to Nam-gyu, straightening his posture. "No, I don't do that stuff anymore."

Nam-gyu gives him a look. "Are you kidding, dude? You can't get this shit anywhere, and you're turning it down? What the fuck happened to you, Thanos?"

"It's Su-bong, actually," he says.

"No more Thanos!? What's going on?"

Su-bong opens his mouth to respond, but is beaten by another voice.

"Nam-gyu, leave him alone, please," you say, putting a hand on Su-bong's shoulder as you step beside him.

Nam-gyu looks between the two of you before a knowing smile spreads on his face.

"Oh, I see," he says. "So this is the guy you've been calling all the time." The barista calls out his name and he takes his cup. "Knew it was only a matter of time before you two got together, I should've bet on it." He turns, walking toward the door. "I'll see you at work!"

You wave to him as he leaves, turning to Su-bong. "Are you okay? He didn't give you anything, did he?"

He shakes his head. "He offered, but I said no. I was expecting him to be a lot less understanding."

"I've been talking to him the past few months at work, turns out he's not bad when he's not constantly sticking his nose up someone else's ass," you say, making Su-bong laugh. His name is called and you take the cups from the barista, thanking them before handing Su-bong's drink to him, taking his hand and leading him back to the table.

"Welcome back, Señorita," Shin-il smirks.

The table bursts out in laughter again and Su-bong stands from the table, waving goodbye to everyone. You grab his wrist before he can get too far, laughing along with him as he sits back down next to you.

<>

It's been about five months since Su-bong got out of rehab. He's been doing very good, resisting every time he feels even the slightest temptation.

He's gotten back into music and is working on his next album, which is going to be the first he's releasing that's not under the name "Thanos", instead rebranding as Choi Su-bong. You're of course his biggest supporter and he plays you all of his songs to get your opinion. You've even helped on a few songs, and he plans on crediting you as a co-writer.

Remembering what you told him nearly a year ago, he surprised you one day with your own guitar, taking the time to teach you how to play. You're still learning, but he loves everything you play, nearly as much as he loves your laugh whenever you play the wrong note.

You've been dancing around each other for the past few months, both aware of your feelings, but liking what you have going on between you for now. As time passes, though, Su-bong can feel himself getting closer to the edge, ready to take the leap.

One day you're both sitting in Su-bong's new apartment when he turns to you.

"Hey," Su-bong says. You look up from your phone at him. "I uh, I want to play something for you, if that's okay."

You smile, locking your phone and putting it face-down on the couch. "Yeah, I'd love that."

He stands up and reaches his hand out towards you. You take it, standing as he leads you to his piano. He sits on the bench, making room for you to sit beside him.

"I actually wrote this for you," he says, shyly looking at you. You smile at him, giving him a nod of encouragement. With a deep breath, he begins playing the notes before singing.

"I text a postcard sent to you Did it go through? Sending all my love to you You are the moonlight of my life every night Giving all my love to you."

You feel your eyes start to water as you listen to the words. His words reflect exactly how you feel, put in a way that makes it more beautiful than anything you could say to him.

You've heard him sing more ties than you can count. But sitting here next to him, listening as he pours his heart out to you, you don't think any song will ever compare.

"With every breath that I am worth Here on Earth I'm sending all my love to you So if you dare to second guess You can rest Assured that all my love's for you."

Su-bong puts his entire heart into the song. He had started writing it on the piano they had at the rehabilitation center. He had written a few songs while he was there, but this one was specifically inspired by you. The lyrics were from notes he would write down while talking to you, things that came to his head as your sweet voice drifted through the speaker of his phone.

"My beating heart belongs to you I walked for miles till I found you I'm here to honor you If I lose everything in the fire I'm sending all my love to you."

He stops playing, bringing his arms to his sides. He slowly looks up at you. "You've done so much for me. I don't think I can ever pay you back, but I'll spend the rest of my life trying if you'll let me."

A tear escapes your eye. You sniffle, nodding your head.

Su-bong reaches out to cup your cheek, wiping away the tear with his thumb. He looks down to your lips before looking back up to your eyes. "Can I kiss you?"

"Please."

He leans forward, closing his eyes as his lips make contact with yours. Su-bong has kissed girls before, more than he'd like to admit, but he feels like a teenager kissing their crush for the first time.

This is a moment nearly a year in the making. All of his longing for you, his adoration of you is put into the kiss.

He pulls back, regaining his breath as he looks over your face. Your kiss-swollen lips are just begging to be kissed again, but there's something that needs to be done first.

"I love you," he says. "I've loved you for a long time. You're the most amazing person I've ever met and there's nothing I want more than to be with you."

You smile at him, and he feels starstruck by how beautiful you are. "I love you too, Su-bong," you say. "I'm forever grateful that you showed me the real you that day in my apartment. Because I love the real you. So much."

Su-bong's face lights up in a smile, leaning forward to capture your lips again in an awkward kiss that makes you both laugh.

All his hard work is paying off. He is finally worthy of happiness. He is finally worthy of you. And he's going to spend every day making sure he stays worthy.

Song: Last Night on Earth by Green Day

Squid Game Tags: @thebiggestigurosimp @vvnbxz @lov3yy @miltzzy @l5byrinth @come-as-you-are-111 @starkeyszn @learninglinesintherainn @galactict3a @sawlover353 @jspidey5 @skywalker0809 @zannispppp @lianobody

Pt 2 tags: @dweeebazoid @apookalypse @jxsibat @fallout-girl219 @senorittaaaa

lmk if you want to be added to the taglist

[bsturnzmtts]

Laser tag - Chris Sturniolo

Based on this request!

Paring: bf! Chris x gf! Reader

Contains/warnings: smut, making out, blowjob, teasing, kinda public (in the bathroom)

Summary: You, your friends and your boyfriend went to laser tag. You and your boyfriend Chris were on opposite teams. In one of the rounds he pulls you to a corner to kiss you but you get him out…

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

It’s Friday night at the triplets’ house, and you, your boyfriend Chris, and your friends Nate, Madi, Matt, and Nick are debating whether to go to Top Golf or laser tag. After weighing the pros and cons, you all eventually decide on laser tag.

When you all arrive, the teams are chosen randomly—Nate, Matt, and you on one team, and Nick, Chris, and Madi on the other. As you gear up, Chris gives you a smirk and the “I’m watching you” sign. You quickly respond with the “you’re dead” sign, locking eyes with him, ready for the game to begin.

The game starts and you quickly find a perfect spot to hide and shoot. Fully concentrated on the action ahead, you don’t notice Chris sneak up behind you. Before you can react, he pulls you into a hidden corner. His notorious smirk looking at you up and down.

“Chris! You scared me.” You say with a soft chuckle.

"I thought I'd catch you off guard," he whispers, his smirk growing wider. "You're usually the one sneaking up on everyone else." He checks his laser tag gun, making sure it's still functioning. "You know the rules, no mercy."

“Awww come onnn don’t kill me, I’m your girlfriend.” You say giving him a pout.

“Hmm fine. But only if you give me a kiss.” He says as he leans in to kiss you.

You lean in as well but just as he’s about to kiss you, you eliminate him. “Ups, should’ve known better.” You say as you laugh.

"Well well well, playing dirty?" He laughs, pretending to stumble back dramatically. "That kiss is gonna cost you later," he whispers playfully.

“Bye bye my love, gotta go find the others” you say as you leave him to go find more of the opposing team.

After a while your team ends up winning. You all meet up at the lobby laughing about the game and some saying it was unfair. You excuse yourself to go to the bathroom and as you're about to enter Chris pulls you in.

“Chris! Stop doing that.”

"Hey, you're the one who's been winning every game. And you didn't keep your promise about that kiss..." he teases, gently pushing you against the wall. "Plus, I need to get my revenge somehow..." In this confined space, his presence feels more intense than usual. “Don’t think I’ll let it slide that easily” he says with a smirk before pressing his lips against yours.

He kisses you passionately for a moment before pulling back slightly, keeping you pressed against the wall. "That's just the first part of your punishment," he whispers, his eyes sparkling mischievously. "Ready for the second part?" he asks, leaning in closer.

“Oh, there’s more?” You ask in a teasing tone.

"Mhmm, and it's gonna be a lot more fun than just a simple kiss," he promises, his voice low and seductive. He leans in close to your ear, his breath warm against your skin. “Get on your knees.”

Your eyes widen at his words. “Right here?”

"Right here," he confirms, his tone leaving no room for argument. "No one's gonna come in, I made sure of that." He smirks, unbuttoning his jeans with his free hand. "You've been teasing me all night, now it's time for you to take care of me."

You bite your lip as you look down at his noticeable bulge. “Chris what if-

"If what?" he interrupts, his voice growing firmer as he sees your hesitation. He hooks his fingers under your chin and lifts your face to look at him. "You really gonna make me ask twice?" He raises an eyebrow, his smirk turning into a grin.

You slowly get on your knees and pull down his unbuckled jeans with his boxers.

A low groan escapes his lips as you reveal his length. He runs his fingers through your hair possessively, gently guiding your head closer. "That's my girl," he whispers, his voice thick with desire. "Show me what you can do with that pretty mouth."

You start teasing by licking his tip for a few seconds before going all in. You start sucking on him as your hands play with his balls and your wide eyes look at him.

"Fuck..." he hisses through clenched teeth, watching you intently. His grip on your hair tightens slightly as he fights the urge to thrust deeper. "Just like that, baby. You look so fucking hot like this..." He maintains eye contact, his pupils dilating with pleasure.

He starts gently thrusting his hips, fucking your mouth slowly at first. His hands remain in your hair, guiding your head and setting the pace. As he gets more into it, his thrusts become harder and faster, his cock hitting the back of your throat with each stroke. "Fuck, fuck, fuck..."

You pull back a little going back to lick his tip as your hand strokes his cock.

He inhales sharply, his hips bucking slightly as you tease him with your tongue. "Damn it, you're trying to kill me aren't you?" He growls, his fingers tangling in your hair. "Open wide again,"

You smirk slightly at his neediness. You obey and open your mouth wide as you look at him.

"Holy fuck..." he mutters, slowly sliding in deeper this time. "Your mouth feels incredible..." His voice comes out in ragged breaths as he controls the pace. "Keep those pretty eyes on me while you suck..." He commands, his movements becoming more intense.

"That's it, baby, take it all," he says, his voice trembling with restraint. "I'm gonna cum, fuck, I'm gonna cum so hard in your mouth..." He warns, his grip on your hair almost painful.

"Good girl," he pants, his entire body tensing as he reaches his climax. "S-Swallow it all," he manages to choke out before releasing into your mouth. His knees almost buckle as he enjoys the intense pleasure of his orgasm.

You swallow every last drop and open your mouth sticking your tongue out showing him that you did.

His eyes darken with desire as he looks at you, spent but thoroughly impressed. "Fuck me," he mutters, helping you up to your feet. He crashes his lips against yours in a passionate kiss, tasting himself on your lips. "You're perfect."

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Taglist: @blahbel668 @bernardsbendystraws @sturnzsblog @deffonotjae @suyqa

@mattsturniololover1 @mattsturniolosgf @annsx03 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @strnzzvsp

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@nelxoxo14 @miasturn1ol0 @mattssslutbby

[my-debauchery]

Stop.

idol!jisung × afab!reader

g`smut

cw`explicit content, kissing(cheek), cockwarming, begging, edging?, mention of tears, teasing, unprotected sex

wc`0.6k

A/N: not really sure about this, but i hope you like it. as always, constructive criticism is more than welcome. if you see mistakes in cw tagging, please, let me know.

all you can hear is humming of a humidifier, movie playing and jisung's breathing. both of you are naked, half laying against the headboard. you are on top of him. your back against his front. you can feel his rapid heartbeat both on your back and from his cock inside you.

it all started because you decide it'll be fun to tease jisung during dinner. saying he wouldn't be able to resist you and sit through the movie, while you cockwarm him. how wrong you were.

it's you who cannot sit still. you've been fidgeting and squirming around for an hour and there is still 45 minutes left.

you tried to bring jisung's hands forward to your breast's, but he just asked you to not distract him and huged you around the stomach.

you tried to subtly move up and down, pretending to get comfortable. but jisung just tightened his grip on you 'stop moving around, you are distracting me'

you tried to tighten your pussy, hoping he will finally fold. but it just made you acutely aware of how hard his cock become and how dip he's in now. pressing deliciously in all the right places.

'you seem to be quiet hard, do you want me to do something about it?' you say, as you turn your head to the side, trying to look at him 'no. but, please, stop moving around. i'm trying to watch the movie' he smiles and kisses your temple.

you are on edge. it seems you've never been this horny. you want to jump his bones now. you don't care who wins.

you decide to beg and whine for him, knowing it always gets to him 'jisuuuung, please. you win, okay? i am insane for you. can you finally fuck me? pleeease' you are scratching on hiss hands, like a cat in heat.

he chuckles and catches your hands in his grip 'really? are you that desperate? can't wait for 30 more minutes? but, baby, you were so confident, am i that irresistible? weren't you supposed to be the one in control of their desire?'

you flush and try to look away. seeing and hearing jisung be this cocky and slightly condescending to you, made you feel even more hot and wet when you were already 'please, stop teasing. you know i want you an unnormal amount. i was just joking before'

'were you? aren't i still young and quick to cum?' you whine like a kicked puppy 'please, i'm sorry'

jisung humms and traps your arms in a even tighter hug 'i don't know, love. i'm tired after practice and have an earlier call tomorrow for the comeback shoot. let's go to sleep' he says nonchalantly and makes a move to pull out.

'no! stop!' you try to move down, but his hold is to strong.

suddenly jisung pushes your legs over his to the sides, bends his legs and plants his feet firmly on the bed. jisung's action make his cock slip in deeper, making it kiss your cervix.

'oh, i'll stop. we wouldn't want to see you cry, right?' he kisses you cheek and starts slumming his hips upwards.

in the morning, during the shoot, mark asks him 'jisung-a, did you play games all night again? did you sleep at all? why were you late?' haechan sits down next to him 'you should pay attention to your girlfriend instead. she might not like to date a man-child'

he just shrugs 'we were watching movies, so i overslept. sorry for being late' jaemin ruffles his hair on the way out 'it's okay, kid. try not to be late next time, okay?' jisung nods and puts on his beanie. they all shuffle out to the set and jisung smiles to himself, remembering your pretty tears.

he guesses there is no need for others to know, just how hard it is for him to stop playing with you.

[kitsunecrows]

an ode to my roots <3 (more under the cut!)

hihi friends! a lot of busy changes and big updates have been happening in my life, but throughout it all, i just want to earnestly, genuinely thank everyone on here for making this a safe space i can feel at home on throughout it all :,)

on one hand, i thought of celebrating a big follower milestone i hit just today, or even the absolute hilarity that is how that one random sdvn sketch somehow blew up without warning (or even the fact that my birthday is coming up in T-minus a few hours!!), but, i realized that beyond that, i don’t even need a reason to want to give back and engage more w this community :,3 i just love it so much that i wanna remember to have fun w the little things along the way note: i'm new to a LOT of these ideas here^ so any boosts and all tips/tricks/advice would be greatly appreciated! im literally babey jhelp me gddhhdj

no matter in what stage of my life or fandom you may have met me in/through, i truly appreciate your presence, silliness, and support :,,3 even though im not always super active d/t being a full-time sleep-deprived uni student (save meeee), having this community to lean on and learn from keeps me going. and for that, i thank you so much /gen. i love you guys!

love, kit ✍️

psst, i have also opened a kofi! tbh i still dk how it works but. it would be so cool if u wanna drop by and say hi or share what u can; any and all support will help me as a student! thank you again <3

✨🌱✨🌱✨🌱✨

more on the characters featured in this little self-indulgent spread (note: these barely scratch the surface of my boundless interests; they just happen to be the few that got me going on tumblr hehe)

a homage to my first tododeku sketch and actually my first ever digital piece on an iPad from like. five years ago! more art of them and other characters under my #bnha tag!!

my #undertale posts, esp of my fav chara <3 cheers to the friends I have made both here and beyond and how this game teaches me what it means to live and to love (beep boop looper @ilikeflowey)

that one #toh warmup sketch of wittewife that blew up out of nowhere LOLLL i was never expecting it (if u want u could totally give this raine one some more love I really enjoyed making it!)

the besties from #beetlejuice the musical (the musical the musical) they are absolute menaces hehe :,) I watched the show live about two years ago and it changed my life FOREVER I cried in the stands

and ofc, my latest interest, #sdvn from #crk as u can probably tell from my past like. 10 posts... (I cannot stop drawing blue and gold guys HELP) anywaysssss hahah im behind on reading #jambound but im catching up to ch 30; please know u can find me screaming and crying to it any time in our dedicated community tab alongside @ilikerosesalot

if you've read this far, id love to hear more about how u found my page! feel free to say hi in dm's or even in comments/tags!!

love u guys <3 ciao (again)! -kit

[mujeans]

MY ONLY LOVE, MY ONLY ONE ✦ LCY

SYNOPSIS ✦ you and anton’s relationship through the years - because maybe not all love has to be young.

“if we’re both still single by the time we’re thirty , let’s get married.”

TAGS ✦ anton x f!reader, one-shot, angst, fluff, non-idol au, yn has mommy issues, slice of life, bffs to lovers, slow-burn

WARNINGS ✦ mentions of drinking at a bar, reader isn't really referred to as y/n or _, just "you" 😭

WC ✦ 4k

PLAYLIST ✦ only by leehi, still into you by paramore, every summertime by niki, toothbrush by dnce, bad by wavetoearth

AUTHOR'S CORNER ✦ was originally meant for heeseung, but i changed it lolz also ik i said i'd post it in a few days but i finished it early and wanted to put it out so i hope u enjoy!

13

snobby, proud, self-centered - these were the words that described anton's first impression of you.

he'd just moved to town, tagging along with his parents to the local mall when his mother stopped in her tracks, causing him to nearly walk into her. he looked at her confusedly when she suddenly gasped, and squealed someone's name, before she practically ran up to another woman, who he'd soon find out to be your own mother.

"guys, this is my old friend from college," she'd told him and his dad. "and this is her daughter," she said as she gestured to you.

you'd been few inches taller than him, so he was intimidated by you and immediately got the impression you were looking down on him. (well, you were, literally.)

"why don't you two kids go to the arcade? here, my daughter has a game card," your mother spoke as she ushered you two away whilst the adults went somewhere else to catch up. anton and you awkwardly stood next to each other as the parents left you two alone.

once they were out of sight, you seemed to deflate; the intimidating aura wiped and replaced by a more relaxed and amicable ‘you’. somehow, you felt more human, and he let out his own steady breath when you smiled and held out your hand for him to shake.

“sorry, my mother can be a lot to handle. you play DDR?”

turns out, you were way more fun when your mother wasn’t around.

16

holding hands was something you two did often.

your friends would often tease you two about it, but neither you nor anton thought much of it. it was completely platonic, right?

but nonetheless, you two were relentlessly asked if you were dating, even when one or the other was in a relationship with someone else. in fact, your closeness had led to your first and most recent boyfriend breaking up with you.

"can you believe it? everyone knows we're literally just friends," you ranted to anton later that night. "so what if we're close? he himself had his own girl best friend - several in fact!"

anton hummed to let you know he was listening, busy working on an assignment that he'd spent far too long procrastinating.

"i mean, how insecure can he be? is it really that unbelievable for a boy and a girl to have a completely platonic relationship?" you paced around his room, not caring whether or not he was listening. you just needed to get the day's frustrations out - and where better than anton's comfy and personalised room?

something about the hanging leaves, band posters, the warm lamp in the corner lighting up the room, it was your favourite place to hide when your mother would be in another one of her moods.

"i'm never going to date again. ugh."

"you sure about that?" anton half-heartedly asked.

"yes. if i have to sacrifice our friendship to kiss some guy, then no thanks."

anton turned to you with a smile playing at his lips. he didn't take you seriously at all.

"anton..." you whined. this wasn't funny to you.

"sorry, sorry," he said, but you could still hear the laugh in his voice. instead, he took your hands in his apologetically, the warmth a familiar gesture.

"if you never date again, then i won't either."

"anton, you've never dated."

"well, it's like you said. if i have to sacrifice our friendship to kiss some girl, then it's a no for me too."

he stared at you sincerely. you guys knew you both would probably still go on to date other people, but the promise felt real anyway. what with the way he was staring up at you.

"swearing yourself to celibacy for me? how sweet," you relented, sitting down on his bed, your hands still clasped in his.

suddenly, an idea popped into your head.

using your linked hands to pull him closer, his chair rolled over, knocking against your knees.

"anton, let's make a pact: if we're still both single by the time we're thirty, then let's get married."

18

graduation came faster than anton expected, and he only realises then that he's known you for five years now.

as expected, you and him had taken lots of photos together (wait, when did he get taller than you?), and eventually your families decided to dine together at some fancy restaurant after the ceremony. it a celebration of the two of you leaving high school, and moving onto the next chapter of your lives: university. something you were particularly stressed about.

"why is applying for uni so hard?? i'm just a girl - just accept me!"

anton could empathise with that sentiment - he'd been an exceptional student, yet his lack of curriculars had ended him up on three waitlists, and with one rejection. not to mention how complicated the process was, what with all the different requirements for every university. honestly, he felt like he'd been lied to by all those people telling him not to worry.

looking over at the parents busy in conversation, he noticed that the both of you had finished your meals already.

"can we go? i'm gonna take her out for a drive," he asked them, gesturing to you.

surprised by the sudden plan, you looked to your parents for approval.

"aren't you going to stay for desserts?" your dad asked.

"i'm sure we'll find something sweet on the way," anton replied simply.

"well, i'm okay with it," your dad agreed, looking at anton's parents who nodded back.

you watched him turn to your mother, a silent argument spoken through their eyes. she reluctantly sighs, a sign of surrender, and you cheered on the inside as anton pulled you away and out of the restaurant.

going for drives was something you and anton always did when either was stressed or upset. windows down and music blared as the sky turned an array of colours, it really felt like the movies in moments like this. you sighed contentedly, head propped up on your elbow as you stared outside. the wind combined with ONLY by LeeHi being the only sounds between you and anton.

"ah, i'm not sure if i can do this whole university thing," you confessed your thoughts. "if applying is already this hard, i can't imagine the real thing."

"it won't be this bad. c'mon, we'll be together, right?" anton's voice replied.

"always."

silence engulfed the two of you again.

"i want to do something crazy. something that'll make her mad."

"yeah? any ideas for this crazy plan of yours?"

"hmm... what about..." you trailed off, thinking for a while.

"what about a month-long trip around europe?"

anton's head snapped to you, eyebrows reaching his hairline.

"seriously? she'll actually lose it."

"not that she already hasn't already done so several times before," you grumbled into your elbow. "besides, i'm always sticking to her stupid rules. i just want to do something 'rebellious' before we get thrown back into classes and assignments and homeworks and blah blah blah..."

a pause. then, “let's do it. where do you want to start?"

"really? you'll do it with me?" you perk up, finally looking at him.

"duh," he rolls his eyes, as if you ever leaving him alone was such an unimaginable thought. "let's figure out those visas first though," he added as an afterthought.

19

2 Notifications yn : you free later this week? yn : feels like i haven't seen u in forever

anton sees the notifications later that night, and sighs as he pushes his hair out of his eyes. he takes a quick look at his monthly calendar.

to be truthful, the two of you had been swamped with finals and work this past semester, so you hadn’t been able to hang out as often as you used to.

seeing that the next part of his coursework wasn't due until next saturday, he decided he had just enough time.

anton: what about tmrw? 12pm at café bleu

"i was thinking..." you started. "what if we do another month-long trip this summer? like we did last year.”

anton grunted at the thought.

"honestly, i've stayed up countless nights this sem for this stupid assignment. i wanted to catch up on sleep thus summer.” i don't think i really have the time for another trip.

"oh. that's okay! we're both going back home anyway, so i'll just come over to yours like always."

"sure, if you want to watch me sleep all day."

but the way he said that - it was a clear no. he didn't have the time, not when he was going to spend all summer trying to catch up on missed sleep.

"never mind, then."

the waitress placed your orders in front of you, and the two of you began to eat in terse silence.

looking at him closely, you notice the darkened eyebags, the pale skin, the way he hadn't even bothered to wear a nice outfit. anton had been pretty cold towards you lately, and he felt guilty, but he couldn't help it. stress was a bully everyone was a victim of.

seeing the way your demeanour seemed to shrink, he was hit with a wave of shame and regret, and took hold of your hand.

"hey, remember that show we watched in senior year? it has a prequel movie coming out soon. we should watch it together."

you perked up immediately. "really? when?"

"november, i think."

he frowned when you faltered, but then you said something that completely sent his heart to the ground.

"i can’t. anton, i'm going on a study exchange programme."

19

talking to jake was easy. talking to him was nice.

in the three months since jake arrived from australia, anton and him had quickly become good friends, (although he would never be able to replace you). so of course he's sad that the exchange programme was coming to an end soon, and jake would have to leave for home.

however, that meant you'd be coming back too, and he was far more excited about that. the past three months had felt empty without you, even if you were a bit absent from his life for some time before the programme started.

so anton finds himself at café bleu in the same spot you'd told him about your plans, but this time with jake on the other side.

"we'll stay in touch though, yeah?" jake assured him. "i'll definitely come visit some time, this place is really great."

"i'll be looking forward to it."

"i think you're more looking forward to me leaving though, aye? what with your friend coming back too."

at the mention of you, anton couldn't stop the smile from spreading on his face. he really did miss you.

"yeah, she's my rock. always there for me - well, except for these past three months. hopefully you'll get to meet her when you visit."

"i'd love to meet the girl you've been talking about this whole time!"

"you'd get along well," anton nodded, imagining the three of you sharing a slice of cake at this very café. "hey, why don't i call her right now, and you can meet her? although it's just online."

jake nodded eagerly, "why not?"

pulling up his phone, anton quickly swiped to the favourites tab on his contacts app, and called you. after just two rings, you pick up.

"hey! what's up?" your voice greets him, bringing an instant smile to his face.

"nothing much, just wanted to introduce you to jake - he's the student who came in your place as part of the exchange programme," he introduced the guy, turning on his camera.

"oh, hi!" he hears you say after he turns the screen to face the other.

"hi! nice to finally meet you. hope australia treated you well,” jake starts smoothly.

"trust me, it has. everyone so nice and welcoming, i just love it here."

"sounds like you've settled in nicely, i'm almost sorry you'll have to pack up and leave again. but hey, you'll be back home and reunited with this guy, right?" jake laughed.

"well... about that."

anton knew something was up - your voice had that same tone as when you dropped the bomb that was you leaving for the next three months. just before you said your next line, anton felt his heart sink again like it did the first time.

"i've decided to transfer here.

"anton, i'm staying in australia."

22

once again, anton finds himself in a graduation gown. but for the first time, you're not at his side.

looking at the photos his mother took of him on her phone, he couldn't help but feel a little upset by the lack of you next to him. for the past nine years, he's never had much solo photos; you were always with him, sharing these moments.

but this time 'round, he's completely alone, and your friendship has devolved to instagram mutuals, reduced to liking each other's posts and reacting to stories. the thought leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

surprisingly, your mother still came to watch him graduate, even if he was only ever just her friend's son.

"oh, anton. you've grown so much since i first met you."

"thank you, auntie," he says awkwardly.

"you know, i miss the two of you. my daughter's all the way in another country, so i barely see you anymore..." she trails off in thought. in the past few years since you left, she seemed to soften up in your absence, no doubt missing you despite the strained relationship between the two of you when you left.

"oh! have you seen the photos? she just graduated herself last week," she fished for her phone in her bag, and began to swipe through her camera roll to show him.

"i wish i could've been there, but i'm not sure she would've wanted that. she's lucky her dad attended instead."

anton shakes his head. "not true, i'm sure she would've wanted you there."

but he wasn’t sure. have your feelings about your mother changed? or were you still upset with her? he doesn’t know. he hasn’t known much about you in a long time.

"i guess we'll never know, will we?"

swiping through more photos, anton's eye caught onto a few of them, where you were standing particularly close to another guy.

"auntie, who's this?"

"ah, him? why, that's her boyfriend, of course." she then turned to look at him oddly. "hasn't she told you?"

he frowned, and shook his head. he's a little off put by the fact that you didn't bother telling him, but then again. you two haven't exactly been friends in a very long time.

and just like that, memories of a pact resurface in his head. it was never going to come true, wasn't it? but if you ended up marrying this guy, anton could never bring himself to watch.

the sound of his friends' voices brought him back to reality. "hey, anton! come over here-" and he forced himself to shake off the thoughts, joining the group instead.

24

anton had been learning to live life without you for the past four or five years now. he had a new friend group, a nice job in the city, his own apartment, all without his best friend. it was hard to unlearn all the mannerisms he didn't even realise he had for you, not until he would get home from the grocery and realise he bought two boxes of sushi like you used to share, or when he'd almost bought a second, folding mattress for when you'd come over for a sleepover, or even just holding an extra hair tie or two on his wrist in case you needed one.

and that was all in the past now, he's finally began to move on from mourning the loss of your friendship. he only thinks about you once in a blue moon, and his life feels like it's no longer on pause.

but you were always cruel to him.

"wait, what?"

right when he'd begun to move on, you came back.

anton stared at you in shock; when he heard the doorbell ring that day, he'd never have expected you to be on the other side. an intelligent 'wait, what?' was all he could muster when he finally registered just what, or who he was seeing.

"hi," you say in that familiar voice of yours. and you almost sound out of breath, although its clear you hadn't run there.

he finally lets you in after a moment, and you explain how you're moving back, and starting at a local company. you tell him about life back in australia, the friends and experiences you made. you tell him about the past five years of your life as if it was just any normal day after high school.

as if you hadn't just completely left him on his own, his other half gone with you.

although the conversation is stilted and awkward, and theres a gap between you that feels wider than the distance between australia and home, anton's still glad to see you. it almost feels unreal, and he wouldn't believe any of this was real if he couldn't feel your weight pushing down on the sofa, or the very essence of you in his living room.

you and anton agree to get coffee some time after you've settled back in, and he asks if you need any help.

"yes, please! its like i brought my whole life from australia back with me, what with all the boxes i need to unpack."

and so, leaning against the door frame, anton watches you walk away again, catching himself wondering if it would be the last time he'd see you again in a while. he had to keep reminding himself that you were back for good.

"oh, and me and my boyfriend broke up."

anton sucks in a breath, and slips his hands in his pocket to hide the shaking. he wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel - angry? relieved? sorry? anton hasn't known how to feel in years.

"just wanted you to know," you spoke into the air, after you received no response from him.

so with an awkward wave, you leave him once again, with a promise to see each other soon.

27

"happy birthday!" people greet as they enter the bar, giving anton a quick hug.

"thank you," he smiles back. "wow, twenty-seven. i feel so old."

"twenty-seven isn't that old," you tell him, hugging him from behind as a surprise. he chuckles and holds onto your arms clasped around his middle for a bit before letting you go sit across him.

"think about it, we've been friends for longer than we haven't!"

"including those four or five years we barely spoke?" you raised an eyebrow at him, taking a sip from your glass.

"shh, what years? we've always been as thick as thieves," anton grins, pinching your cheek.

after you moved back, it didn't take that long to rekindle your previous relationship. somehow, you two picked up right where you left off, like there was never a period in your friendship filled with almost radio silence.

"you two," eunseok sighed with an exasperated but fond tone. "if i didn't know you guys were 'just friends', i would've thought you were dating."

"or married!" sohee shouts from somewhere.

you roll your eyes at your friends and coworkers, the guests. dating allegation were nothing new in your relationship, having suffered from them for over ten years now.

"we have been friends for a while now, huh? fourteen years is pretty crazy."

"i honestly can't remember a time when i didn't know you," anton agrees.

"being 'friends' for longer than you haven't is quite the achievement," wonbin remarks with a knowing look. "personally, i don't have toothbrushes and extra clothes at my house for my friends though."

all this talk of friends and friendship was making your head hurt.

"anton, remember the pact we made at sixteen?"

anton looked at you sharply, knowing exactly what you were referring to, but asking anyway. "no. remind me again?"

with a scoff and a smile, you said, without regard to the fact that everyone was half-listening, "when we promised we'd marry each other by thirty if we were both still single?"

clinks of glass and utensils falling around the two of you, your friends were suddenly more invested in the conversation, not even trying to hide their curiosity.

"you really want to talk about this right now? in front of everyone?" anton murmured, voice low enough just for you to hear.

you stared at him, and then continued.

"well, looks like there's three years left to our promise. three years left to run away from me." that pulled out some laughs.

anton just stared at you with a mix of surprise and uncertainty.

"well, i haven't run away for these last eleven years since, have i?"

whoops and cheers filled the bar; you yourself were surprised with anton's boldness and honesty. you always did wonder why he barely ever dated, only ever having a few flings here and there.

suddenly, you felt a little flustered by his bold declaration, and the implication that he'll wait out the remaining years.

"i..."

suddenly, anton's face morphed into a smirk as he took another sip from his own glass, eyes still on you.

"what's another three years?"

30

"ah, my mom keeps asking when i'm going to settle down," you whine to anton, sitting in his living room as you two share a late midnight snack.

something about it all feels nostalgic, whining and complaining about your mom to him, sitting in his comfy room (or this time, his apartment), with a vinyl record playing in the background. this is home, you decided.

what you don't tell him is that your mom had been more specific with her words.

(when are you and anton going to get married and settle down?? i want grandkids, you know!)

anton laughs lightly, feeding you another sushi. the whole atmosphere was quite domestic, and you wished you could spend the rest of your life like this; with him.

"some things never change, do they?" he remarks with a fond smile. and your heart melts a little.

(hopefully soon, mama.)

"isn't sushi a little heavy for a midnight snack?"

"well, it's not just any midnight, isn't it?" anton asks.

and he's right. it's actually a special one - the night before your birthday.

looking at the clock, you see that it's almost twelve, and you find yourself thinking back on the past twenty-nine years. anton's in most of the memories, something you weren't particularly bothered about. when you two spent that day at the arcade together, something about it all just felt right.

you've always loved change, always wanted more experiences. but one thing you wanted to stay the same forever, was anton being by your side. when you'd gone to australia, it was a slow realisation that some part of you was missing. only when you reunited with anton did you realise why that was.

the soft beeping noise of a clock brought you back from your thoughts, signalling that it was finally twelve o'clock. that you were finally thirty. hearing shuffling behind you, you turn to look at anton for the annual hug and cheer that made your whole birthday.

but instead, you watched in shock as anton sunk onto one knee, and pulled out a box.

"don't look so surprised, now," he chuckles awkwardly. "this was a long time coming."

"i know... i just. i didn't expect you'd do it as soon as i turned thirty," you laughed. "looks like someone couldn't wait any longer."

"can you blame a man who waited fourteen years?"

you shook your head before anton called our your name, even though he already had your full attention.

"my only love, i don't have to hide my feelings anymore. i love you."

with a deep breath, filled with years and years of longing, he finally asked.

"will you marry me?"

TAGLIST ✦ @yoursyuno @totheseok

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

A Quiet Neighborhood - Chapter 2

Pairing: Dave York x f!reader Words count: 4180 Rating: + 18, MDNI Tags: POV second person, reader is female with female genitalia, wears dresses, heels and a bikini, has hair that can be tied up in a bun/ponytail, no other description is given, she doesn’t blush, smut, angst, kissing, dirty thoughts, masturbation, use of a sex toy, mention of infidelity, kinda Desperate Housewifes coded (uh, don’t judge, I love it), easter eggs in secondary character’s names (so you can have fun guessing which series/film they come from 👀), neighborhood dynamics, Carol, Molly and Alice are there. Mention of food, alcohol consumption, mention of poker game, some reader's thoughts marked in italics, swearing, Dave is a fucking menace. This takes place right after Chapter 1. A/N: Dave is finally back! First of all thank you so much for the interest you have shown in this series, I didn't expect it and it made me really happy 🥹 I hope you like this chapter, I was planning to release it earlier but I struggled a little bit with my writing. English is not my first language, I apologize for any mistake. No beta, I reread it myself, I really hope it makes sense. I would particularly like to thank @arcanefox207 , @milla-frenchy and @aurorawritestoescape for their support, encouragement and kindness. Love you, girls ♥️

Chapter 1 | Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Coming out of the bathroom everything feels too loud, ringing voice of people, music, clanging of glasses, it's all too much to bear with when all you need right now is silence to make up with your overwhelming feelings spinning in your head like a carousel gone wild.

“I need to get out of here” you think, heading toward the Horowitz' living room in brisk steps to retrieve your purse. 

Jane stops you in the track "Hey, where were you? We're having margarita, would you like some?"

You see him. behind Jane’s shoulder, through the door to the outside. He's back in the garden to his wife, holding an arm around her waist with a relaxed expression on his face, as if nothing has happened.

"I-uh-" 

"Just sip this time, don't throw it down like you did before" Jane looks at you amused "I don't want to hold your hair while you vomit in one of Walkers' fancy bathrooms"

You nervously laugh then you look at him again and it's infuriating, the way he just goes on with his life while you feel like you've been hit by a train.

Fucking worthy of an Oscar.

The temptation to go home takes you for a moment but then looking at him smiling seraphically you think, “Fuck it, I don't see why I should ruin my day for him.”

So you follow Jane into the garden to join the others.

“If he can play it cool I can too” you think ”nothing a nice margarita can't fix.”

You walk past him and see that he and his wife are talking to Edie and her new boyfriend.

He doesn't even look at you, as if you are back a figure in the background with the others.

Which actually makes sense; the opposite would be much stranger since in the eyes of everyone you are nothing more than mere neighbors.

“Dave, look, Carol left lipstick on your lips,” you hear Edie say giggling as you sit at the table with your friends, ”you two lovebirds, you're still so cute after so many years of marriage.”

You feel your heart jump into your throat but you try to maintain composure outside and greeting Susan and Emma that just arrived “fuck” you think, cursing Edie and her big mouth “Now she's going to realize it's not her lipstick, God, I'm so screwed”.

You talked to her before but now in your panic you can't even remember what lipstick she was wearing.

You smile quizzically at Gabby who hands you one of the margaritas a waiter just left at your table but you perk up your ears to catch whatever they're saying; for a moment it's all silent until you hear Carol's crystalline laughter.

You barely turn to observe them out of the corner of your eye as you take a sip of your cocktail and see that Carol is wearing a lipstick very similar to yours. You're not a church girl but right now you're literally praying that one stupid kiss doesn't make you the laughingstock of the neighborhood.

Damn you, Dave.

Carol pulls a tissue out of her purse and hands it to him.

Okay, she’s quiet. Or at least she seems to be.

And who would ever connect me and Dave anyway?

You shake yourself out of your thoughts when you hear Jane call your name “hey! are you still with us?”

You smile “yes, sorry, I was thinking about work, you know that presentation I have to give on Monday” and you squeeze into your shoulders “what were you saying?”

Jane rolls her eyes “ugh, work. I was saying we're meeting tomorrow afternoon at my house for poker, are you coming?”

“Of course I'm coming, and I plan to tear you all apart!”

Jane, Gabby, Susan and Emma all say in chorus “we'll see about that!”You laugh and sip on your margarita again trying to appease your nerves, the liquid slide cool down your throat and you savor the citrusy flavor on your tongue thinking "it's good. it's all good. I will cut that Dave bullshit out of my life and everything will be great"

The rest of the afternoon passes pleasantly, you drink another margarita while chatting with your friends, you grab some snacks from the buffet so you don't risk forcing Jane to hold your hair in the bathroom, and you feel like you have regained some mental stability.

Dave is still here, looking like the perfect picture of a man trying to spend quality time with his beloved wife.

They talk to neighbors, they laugh, she holds a hand in his tracing small concentric circles on his back.

All smooth, I can't believe it, you sigh as you finish your second margarita.

Ms. Horowitz goes between tables to tell you that anyone who wants can take advantage of the pool, all your friends thank her saying they will do so shortly, and you reply, “Oh,I don't have my bathing suit with me,” wondering if anyone has ever told you to bring it. From the way Jane looks at you with an amused expression you guess that yes, she had told you but you completely forgot in your frenzy to look good in front of Dave in your new shoes.

Being in a bathing suit in front of him is not something you could afford to contemplate and you can't do it now either so you try to shy away from her invitation as politely as you can, but Mrs. Horowitz presses you, “that's no problem, dear, we have dozens of bathing suits for our guests!”

“Of course. I forgot that if they wanted to they could swim in a pool full of money like Scrooge McDuck.”

At this point you can do nothing than accept.

Carlos and Rafael managed to disengage under the guise of joining Mr. Horowitz and other neighbors in the living room to watch whatever is going to be on the sports channel. And these are the moments when you wish you were someone who knows about sports.

“You can go to the pool house and change there, you will find swimsuits and towels in the closet,” Mrs. Horowitz chirps.

And so you do, you head for the pool house teetering on your new heels, thinking maybe you shouldn't swim at all because you're feeling a little tipsy.

“God, I really don't feel like it,” you say to Susan who is beside you, and she replies, ”oh come on, it will be fun!”

You already hear some splashing coming from the pool as you enter the little house.

It is luxuriously furnished like a real outhouse, there is a huge bed, a small kitchen, and a door on the right side that leads to a bathroom. Someone could actively live in here like a king.

Susan opens the closet that takes up the entire wall in front of the bed and finds dozens of bikinis and one-piece suits. “Jesus, they could open a swimsuit store with all this stuff.”

You laugh, tapping her on the side “make room” Susan pinches your arm “rude!” she sneers.

Emma, Jane and Gabrielle laugh. You choose a swimsuit as they take turns to change into the bathroom.

____________________________________

You walk out of the pool house wearing a black bikini, holding the towel wrapped around you. You chose the simplest model you could find that wasn't a one-piece swimsuit, because you always thought you looked like your grandmother in those.

You don't want to stand out but neither do you want to feel ridiculous at the idea of Dave seeing you.

You hope he has already gone home until you reach the pool and see him diving off the small diving board located on one of the short sides.

By now it's evening so several strings of small lights have been lit and hung directly above the pool like small fireflies floating in the air and scattered over the buffet and beverage gazebos.

There are also several garden street lamps around, but the small lights create an enchanting atmosphere.

Mr. and Mrs. Horowitz really know how to throw a great party.

Dave's back looks golden as you watch him disappear into the water, his muscles outlined by the play of light and shadow that refracts against them. You bury a howl inside as you steal a glance at his butt swaddled deliciously in red swimming shorts.

You sit on a lawn chair, fully intending to stay there, while your friends put their towels down and go for a dip in the pool.

It's still warm for fall, today in particular, so you don't mind the thing itself, but showing yourself to Dave like this? That's a whole other matter.

The whole neighborhood is there but you literally feel like only he can see you, because that's the only look you care about and might feel judged by.

Your friends wave at you from the other side of the pool, even calling your name so you listlessly drop the towel on the deck chair and walk to the edge, wetting your feet in the cool water.

Out of the corner of your eye you see Dave go underwater, you follow his movements, and see him come up right in front of you.

“Fuck” you think

“Hi,” he says in a low voice as you wonder where his wife is. You answer him by mumbling a “hello” as you look around for her. Carol is sitting on a lawn chair, wearing a white one-piece bathing suit and matching sarong, and sipping cocktails with one of your neighbors. She is quite distant and seems very engrossed in the conversation, so you finally allow yourself to look at Dave.

He's still in the water, leaning against the edge below you.

He runs a hand through his hair to pull it back, small droplets sliding down his perfectly chiseled jaw to the column of his neck and down his broad chest until they die at the water's edge.

Your friends call your name loudly as he rests both hands on the edge and rises effortlessly beside you. You don't look at him, you keep your gaze fixed on Jane and the others as you hear the sound of water sliding over his body and falling back into the pool, a few drops hitting you in the process. He is beside you, completely wet, wearing only shorts. You’re petrified, trying to govern your emotions and especially your facial expressions “stay calm stay calm stay calm” you repeat to yourself as you hear his voice whisper “you look so fucking sexy in that bikini. I wish I could fuck you right here right now” just before he walks over to the loungers.

He didn't turn around, he didn't make eye contact with you, no one would say he even noticed you, and he spoke so softly that no one could have heard him but you. You heard him loud and clear, and his rough voice went and settled directly between your legs on your wet pussy.

You hastily dive into the pool feeling your cheeks on fire.

“Fucking Dave and his fucking flirting.”

_________________________________________

First thing you do when you come home is to take off your shoes throwing on the carpet in your living room.

By now you are no longer tipsy; swimming in the pool has definitely helped you get sober again.

And Dave.

Dave who ignored you pretty much the rest of the evening but infiltrated your brain like a disease.

You know you can't get your hopes up, you know that this thing between the two of you will have no future, and you also know that you don't like being a home wrecker.

I am just an escape from his marriage, a sleazy adventure, a little toy to entertain him.

And yet, you still want more.

Your body unfortunately doesn't care about morality right now, it reacts to every image of him imprinted in your mind, Dave is Pavlov's bell and you are the drooling dog.

Lingering in fantasies about him hurts, but there is a desperate part of you that still feels his hips grinding against yours, the taste of his tongue, the warmth of his big hands on you.

And his body next to yours when he got out of the pool, how you could smell the scent of his skin mixed with chlorine, how you could still feel the warmth of his body despite being completely wet, water dripping down his legs pooling at his feet.

You can stay here a little longer, just a little while longer without hurting anyone, before you turn the page.

You shuffle into your room with your head in the clouds, open your night stand drawer almost without thinking, pull out your dildo and lie on the bed. You loop your dress around your waist without even bothering to take it off, just enough to get rid of your bra and your panties.

You let the dildo glide over your body, shivering at the feel of the cool plastic on your tits, brushing against your nipples.

The low rasp of his voice still in your mind, graveling like an echo in your brain “you look so fucking sexy in that bikini”

It was the first time you saw him like that, you happened to see some exposed skin as he mowed the lawn, even lifting up his shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead once he was done but what you saw today? Nothing compares with it.

His fully exposed torso, the darting muscles of his back as he dove, how his arms flexed as he leaned over the edge of the pool. There is something obscene about seeing people completely wet, a primal instinct awakening, the water slipping and hugging the curves of his body, the droplets of water glistening on his skin, the wet shorts glued to his body that barely suggested the shape of him.

You shut your eyes and suddenly it’s his cock wiping on your hardened buds, tip slapping and teasing, brushing on your skin just right, red and swollen and already leaking.

You can think it’s real, it feels so real, his hand roaming on your body, pulling your dress up, get it out of the way to dispose of you as he wants.

Big strong hand gripping on your inner thighs, his fingers rising higher on your skin, making you whimper in anticipation.

Your cunt aching tremendously, unrestrained and starving.

His big cock grazing your swollen labia, parting them and then sliding entirely over your center, his tip slamming against your clit, mingling your essences in an overwhelming arousal that runs through you all.

And then he pushes inside, deeper and deeper in the most intimate part of you.

And that’s it.

You are fucking away all your bad omens, lying to your hands sinking into the flesh of your thighs, your heart pounding behind your ribcage, your hips swaying against the rubber dildo, pushing them away to suppress them. All frenzy and delirium as it is his cock kissing your cervix, stretching your walls, pulsing and dripping inside you.

You can’t stop, angling the dildo so that it brushes against your swollen clit pumping incessantly into your core, creaming the entire length of your dildo, your legs obscenely spread, your body torn apart by every thrust, your hungry pussy sucking in, contracting, devouring every inch without finding peace.

"I wish I could fuck you right here right now"

Your free hand rises on your tit, your fingers latched on your pebbled nipple, pulling and twisting until you feel your brain leaking from your pussy.

Your orgasm breaks inside you, vibrating in and out of your body, quivering on your sweaty skin, taking your breath away. You come thinking of him completely wet from head to toe on top of you, your flesh colliding, your bodies merging, in a desperate, relentless rush toward the brink.

And you can't get enough, so you don't stop as the first orgasm washes over you, your swollen, slippery cunt keeps frantically gripping around the dildo, your hands keep thrusting it in, torturing your nipples, it's like you're trying to quench your thirst once and for all.

The way he ignored you afterward makes you want to have him even more, to break through his stoicism and trigger an outburst in him as much as your own.

It's twisted, wrong, immoral and you don't care a bit. 

You fall into a deep sleep, having come repeatedly, Dave being all that's left in your head.

______________________________________

Morning light flutters on your eyelids forcing you to open your eyes to another day.

You grunt, feeling your incredibly aching pussy, and realize your dildo is still inside you.

The stretch is here to remind you your guilt, the frenzy that took you last night, the feeling of being just one inch away from slipping into something dangerous.

You pull it out cautiously, feeling your essence slip out of you, soaking your inner thigh, the sticky mess of your desire for him dribbling silently over your skin.

Your pussy tightens around nothing, pulsing to the void, deprived of something, swollen and tried.

The dress from the night before is still crumpled around your body, crumpled and damp with your sweat and arousal at the hem. You get out of bed feeling like a rag doll, drag yourself into the bathroom and look in the mirror. Mascara has run down your cheeks, your lipstick smudged, an exhausted and defeated expression on your face.

You look like a total disaster, matching your feelings.

This morning, in the sunlight, you are furious with yourself. Why did you let this married man condition you so much? You spent $350 on a pair of shoes just because he told you they'd fit you, what the fuck is wrong with you?

You have to stop before it takes a turn for the worse and you find yourself crying for him.

There's no way it will end well.

You take off your makeup, take a shower, and change into a pair of sweatpants and an old Pearl Jam T-shirt you got at a concert a million years ago.

You clean and tidy your house, then Jane calls to have your confirmation to meet at 3 p.m. at her house.

Having a fun afternoon with your friend will help, you think.

You don't look out the window toward his house even once, you simply pretend it doesn't exist.

After changing into a pair of jeans and a white top, you head towards Jane’s house at the end of the road, your eyes straight to her house without your usual wandering and sneaking through your neighbor’s windows.

You are able to shut down your brain concentrating on poker and your friend and it all goes smooth until you hear Susan say, “Did Edie call you to gossip about the Yorks?” And you all turn to look at her, you with your heart leaping in your chest like an acrobat.

“Really? Was it only me who had this pleasure?” she says, rolling her eyes.

“Why, what happened?” Jane asks as she shuffles the cards for the next hand.

“According to her, Dave has an affair. But you know how Edie is, I mean-”

"And how can she say that?" Gabby widen her eyes, getting all excited. You love her dearly but she’s almost as gossipy as Edie sometimes.

"She says Dave disappeared at the party and then came back with some lipstick on his mouth."

“What?” you all exclaim, as you try with all your might to feign surprise.

“Yes, and then she says Carol pretended nothing happened but according to Edie there is something going on because you know - she says that lipstick seemed slightly different from the one his wife was wearing”

“Well that also depends on lips natural color,” Jane tries to intervene, usually she's the one who instead tries to quell the rumors. You are thankful that she maintains her attitude even now, all while your other friends cut her off squeaking “oh my God!” And Gabby, who sits right next to you put a hand on your arm “Jesus, can you believe that?”

“Actually no” you shrug “I mean…they seem so close-hearted”

“Well, honey, I'm sorry to tell you but not all that glitters is gold” Gabby scoffs.

“Even if it was true - and with Edie I wouldn't put my hand on it because she was really tipsy and then well...she's Edie” Jane admonishes “it's none of our business”

“God, he would be such a scam though. And to think I kinda considered him incorruptible” Emma sighs and you all nod.

You never mentioned your crush, not even to the friends.

No one ever saw you two talk for more than a few minutes and only of mundane arguments, totally out of courtesy and being good neighbors.

Fuck. It has to end before anyone finds out.

The bullet missed you by a whisker but you know you can't play with fire.

“Then you wonder why I haven't found another boyfriend yet!” You playfully snap, just to look more unsuspicious.

You hate lying to your friends, but you are relieved when you see them nodding.

Jane urges, “Come on let's play, we've talked enough about this.”

The afternoon flows nicely, Jane and Gabi argue over points as usual, you all laugh, and by the end you feel better, really better.

Yesterday was crazy, but I can get through it, you think.

When you get home you order a pizza and eat it on the couch watching a horror movie. You don't think about him for the rest of the evening, until you get under the covers and a flashback of him pushing you against the bathroom tiles flashes before your eyes. You squeeze them hard, trying to banish the image from your mind.

________________________________________

Monday morning at the office hits you in the face, you have a lot of work to do but you've never been so happy to keep busy so you don’t complain. Anything goes as long as you don't think about him.

Your agency has just acquired a big client for whom you'll have to manage a marketing campaign, there's a lot of pressure but by the end of the morning you feel like you and the rest of the team have come up with the right idea, which makes you relieved.

At lunchtime you go out to get a sandwich. It's a beautiful sunny day, there’s a little wind that caresses your face and moves the tree canopies along the road. You're glad you've been able to focus, you really care about doing a good job and making a good impression on your demanding boss in light of a promotion you'd like to get.

You will slowly return to your usual life and what happened will remain a sporadic episode without consequences. That's the best thing for everyone.

You walk into the diner and get in line to order a sandwich.

You greet Sarah, the girl at the counter, with whom you've been chatting since the first day you were hired at your agency.

You order the usual and come out humming and feeling some lightness at last.

You walk the short distance to your office, and the moment you push the door open you feel a gaze on you, like in déjà vu. You turn to look at the street, and see no one, just a black car that takes off quickly, speeding down the empty road. For a moment it looks like Dave's. You blink your eyes and shake your head, feeling lost.

It's like you've taken one step forward and three steps back.

It will take much longer to eradicate him from your mind, and living in the same neighborhood across the street from each other certainly won't help.

You come home tired, you managed to do a good job despite the thought of Dave that kept pounding in your head all afternoon, at least you can be satisfied with that.

You park in your driveway and out of the corner of your eye you see Carol loading suitcases into a cab.

Shit, what's going on? Was Edie right? Did they really have a fight? Is she leaving him?

You start toward your door but then stay on the porch pretending to rummage through your purse for your keys.

You see Dave leave the house with his daughters, he helps Carol with the heaviest suitcase and they briefly say something you can’t hear. You hold your breath for a signal, something that will let you know what they’re doing, but it all seems neutral, calm, no drama, no screaming fight in the middle of the street. Typical of them, you think, they would never do that in front of their daughters anyway.

Molly and Alice hug their father and happily get into the taxi, sitting in the back, Alice holding a doll which she places next to her on the seat.

Carol kisses Dave on the cheek and climbs into the cab with the girls. As you watch them leave your mind is filled with question marks, it didn't seem like a traumatic departure but you know they are the best at keeping up appearances. And deep down, what do you really know about Carol and Dave? What really happens when the doors are closed and they are far from the rest of the world? Are they really the perfect family they pretend to be?

Dave is on the sidewalk waving to the cab pulling away, as soon as it's far enough away he turns to look at you and winks.

Series tag list:

@penascigarette @syd-djarin @almostempty @aurorawritestoescape @joelalorian @milla-frenchy @baronessvonglitter @cas-readsandwrites @sunnytuliptime @foreveratlantica-blog @peppermintfury @drewharrisonwriter @indiegirlunited @darkheartgatita @untamedheart81 @missladym1981 @rosebuds-and-moonlight

If you want to be added or removed, just let me know, thank you so much for reading ♥️

[h0ck3yl0v3r]

foolish one

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

lh43 x childhood bestfriend!reader

warnings: angst, semi-swearing

you and luke were inseparable. always attached to each other, whether it was you attending his hockey games or him attending your events. everyone around you guys always thought you were both dating, although you wish you were, there was never any romantic relationships.

highschool graduation happened, and you and luke both had committed to the university of michigan. as time went on through senior year, yours and lukes relationship was rocky, luke being too busy with hockey and girls to always be there for you. as for you, you were still one of his biggest supporters. it was in that long list of promises you guys made when you were seven. 'we promise to always be there for each other no matter what.'

college was rocky, you barely saw luke, heard from him, it was hard on you.

chances are, tonight, you've already got plans and chances are i will talk myself to sleep again

you cried every night, seeing pictures of luke at parties with girls while you were never invited. you felt invisible to him now, your mom and ellen called every day, they knew how much love you have for luke, they knew it from the moment you slipped and fell on the ice and luke helped you up, the moment your spark in your eyes grew.

and the voices say, "you are not the exception you will never learn your lesson"

that spark was now slowly fading away. you really thought you had a chance being his best friend that maybe, just maybe he'd be in love with you too.

don't know what to call this situation but i know i can't call you mine

the whole first semester of freshman year went by really fast, meaning it was now time for winter break, one of your favorite seasons. luke was still radio silence, you both always spent winter together, guess he's too famous for you now, another promise broken, 'we promise to never forget each other, no matter how famous we get.'

but goodbye screamin' in the silence and the voices in my head are tellin' me why

when ellen and your mother came down to visit they held a little gathering with jack, quinn, luke and his friends.

the gathering was a mess.

"yo moose who's this girl in your baby pictures." one of his teammates had brought up.

"oh her, she's just an old friend." he had replied, 'old friend.' that hurt to hear, you were no longer apart of his life.

cause you got her on your arm and me in the wings i'll get your longing glances, but she'll get your ring

luke didn't know you were there, too busy with his new girlfriend and teammates. but you heard it all, you see it all, it was heartbreaking, quinn saw it all though. quinn was always second closest to you, being that person you looked up to, he was the first person you ever confessed you had a crush to luke on.

"it hurts quinny, it hurts so much, i feel like a ghost to him. i thought we would've happened i thought all the signs i gave him would've been enough for him to catch on. i feel so stupid" you sobbed into quinns chest, hos heart breaking for you.

"shh its okay, my brothers an idiot, please don't feel like stupid, it's not your fault angel" quinn rubbed your back softly as you sat there and cried yourself to sleep.

foolish one sittin' 'round waiting for confessions of love they ain't never gonna come and thinkin' he's the one, you should've been walkin' out foolish one

you woke up the next morning devastated. maybe in another universe it could've happened, but right now its time to piece yourself back together. you couldn't face watching your spark keep fading over someone who no longer is present in your life.

when all is said and done, he just wasn't the one no, he just wasn't the one

for you, luke will always be your past present and future, but right now he is not what is needed in your life, mayne one day he'll come back to his senses but for the time being self-love is the best healing.

tags: @drysdalesv @ghostfacd @shy4turcs

pt 2??

[selencgraphy]

— 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐌

PAIRING: sebastian stan x f!reader

TAGS: set during quarantine, established relationship, age gap (if you squint, it's not directly mentioned), just fluff :)

A/N: yet another lost selencgraphy fic! wrote this during quarantine in attempt to lift my spirits :) happy reading <3

WORD COUNT: 912

masterlist || request box <3

You and Sebastian have been stuck in the tiny apartment that the two of you shared for what felt like forever. When the pandemic hit, he was still filming for The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, so he had to finish it up. Somedays you would get the occasional FaceTime call at lunch and be "graced with the presence of Choclachino" as Mackie titled it. It wasn't how it normally was but it was fun while it lasted. 

Once they finished filming, he was stuck at home with you. Sure, the world was put to a pause but that didn't stop the two of you from having some fun of your own. "Y/N, I swear to god if you don't get your ass back here right now!"

Life with Sebastian never had a dull moment and being stuck with him during a pandemic just amplified your already chaotic energy. You two had tons of movie and game nights. But some days you would just lay in each other's arms and cuddle. Pranks became a common theme in the household and unfortunately for him, your pranks never failed. Today, you threw confetti all over him as he was about to get out of the shower.

His eyes grew wide as he stopped in shock and quickly met yours. "You're so going to pay for that," he muttered with a chuckle before he lunged towards you.

"Oh shit, OH SHIT!" you screeched as you avoided him. Quickly, you ran back out to the kitchen and devised a game plan. There was no way in hell you were letting him get his revenge. Eventually, he was going to catch you, and then you'd both be covered in confetti. So you snatched your phone, wallet, mask, and keys and ran out the door. You’ve been meaning to go grocery shopping anyways.

—

The groceries you needed were acquired, and it was finally time that you made your way back home. Hopefully after leaving him home by himself for a couple of hours let him cool off. You quietly used your key and opened the door. He was just sitting down on the couch, which Mackie was 100% correct about even if Seb denied it. It didn't look like he noticed you were back home. To make sure, you removed your shoes to make no noise. Tiptoeing to the couch, you looked over his shoulder to see what he was looking at. He was on his phone. He was looking at TikToks. "No fucking way," you thought.

Very quickly, you snuck your hand up and around his head and snatched the phone out of his hands. "What the fu-"

"Ah ah ah," you tutted, wagging your finger in his face with his phone in your other hand. "Is the Sebastian Stan looking at TikToks? Let's see what you've been looking at."

You scrolled a bit and noticed a common theme. They were all mostly memes of him and Mackie. You pulled one up and let it play. "I'll see you next time! Bye Sebastian! HuNgRy EyEs! OnE LoOk aT yOu aNd I cAn'T DiSgUiSe-"

He reached out over the couch to try and swipe his phone back. You quickly pulled it back out of his reach. "Y/N... Give me my phone back. Please..."

"Or what?"

Suddenly, he was jumping over the couch and you turned and started to run away again. Lucky for him, your apartment was incredibly small, and you had little place to run. His arms wrapped around your waist, and he pulled you back into him. "Gotcha," he whispered, "I'd like my phone back now, please."

Even though you had no more options, you didn't give in. You continued to hold the phone close to your chest, a smirk settling on your face. "So that's how you wanna play it? Okay..."

He let you go. You thought you were free. You thought wrong. He quickly turned you around, picked you up, and threw you over his shoulder. "Seb, put me down!" you pleaded, laughing as he walked back to the living area.

Before you knew it, he threw you back onto the couch and started to tickle you. He knew you were extremely ticklish and unfortunately, he played to your weakness. "This is for earlier," he giggled while continuing to tickle your sides.

Soon enough, the tickling got to you and your grip on his phone loosened. He swiftly grabbed it back and stood back up. "Fine, fine you win," you let out, trying to catch your breath, "Why were you even looking at TikToks anyways?"

"First of all, Mackie sent these to me. Second of all, I'm teaching him how to use Instagram, but all the kids these days use TikTok so I'm uh..."

"Go on," you encouraged.

He sighed. "I'm trying to get with the program if you will."

Your boyfriend. Sebastian Stan. Gen Z's current internet crush was trying to get with the program. You tried to hold in your laughter and he could tell by the look on your face. "You better not laugh at me or I will tickle you even more."

You threw your hands up in surrender. "Hey! I'm glad you're trying, babe." You turned to head back to the kitchen to put the groceries you just bought away. As you walked away, you said back, "About time, old man!"

"What did you just say?"

"Nothing!"

"No, I think you just called me an old man!"

[bullet-prooflove]

90% Of The Work: Eddie Diaz x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @gatefleet @mckinleysbones @totalstitchlover19 @angelofthetrenchcoats

Companion piece to:

Bang - Eddie's new year starts with a bang.

Lifetime (NSFW) - One night with you makes Eddie realise he wants a life time.

El Paso - Eddie is forced to make a decision that hurts you both.

Possibilities - Eddie thinks about what might have been.

Welcome Back - Eddie discovers the reason you've been out of contact.

Home - Eddie lays eyes on you for the first time in six months.

Chemistry (NSFW) - You and Eddie have always have good chemistry.

You’ve been asleep four hours when you awake to the sound of knocking on your front door. It’s a firm, controlled rap that you recognise from all the other times Eddie Diaz has turned up on your step.

You huff, rolling onto your back as you stare up at the ceiling. You consider not answering because you still feel shitty about the way last night ended. You can’t describe the sensation in your chest when he picked up that phone telling you ‘I have to get going in a sec’. You understand that Christopher is a priority, that he always will be but after that declaration of love, you’d expected more.

A couple of minutes of aftercare, a little cuddling, something other than a dismissal you’ve heard a thousand times before from other men. On top of the exhaustion you’d been feeling, it had been the icing on top of a very shitty day.

“Eddie…” You begin as you open the door because you really don’t have the capacity for anymore bullshit right now. “I really can’t…”

You trail off when you see him standing there, clad in the black wife beater and the grey sweats you know he wears to bed. Underneath his arm is a pillow, a special hybrid one from home, he’d had a neck injury a couple of years back and needs something more tailored to sleep comfortably these days.

“I don’t feel great about the way we left things.” He says quietly, hugging the pillow to his chest. “After what happened with Christopher, not picking up his call when he needed me the night we were together... It makes me hypervigilant, I get a sense of urgency in my chest, that’s what I was feeling last night when Buck text me, that’s why…” He trails off, biting his lower lip. “I’m not proud of the way I treated you.”

“It’s becoming a theme Eddie.” You inform him, your head coming to rest on the door frame. “You get what you want and then you disappear. It’s starting to give me a complex-”

“Then lets change that.” He says, reaching out to tuck an errant strand of hair back behind your ear. “Chris has been dropped at school so there is nowhere else I need until 3pm. We can nap, grab a game of pick up of basketball, catch up with laundry, I don’t care I just want to spend time with you.”

There’s a sincerity in his voice that you feel deep down in the depths of your soul. For all of his faults Eddie is always honest, always earnest. It’s that knowledge that makes you relent, that makes you reconsider your decision to let him in once again.

“Well your aftercare does need work.” You state, opening the door to let him inside. “But I suppose practice makes perfect and you did bring your own pillow, which is an exceptionally weird thing to do by the way.”

“I think it shows my commitment to cuddling.” He tells you as he follows you into the house towards the bedroom. “You know I mean what I say when I tell you it’s not about the sex, it’s about being with you.”

The sex, while earth shattering is about the physicality of love, sleeping together it’s a different, more intimate act. It shows trust on an emotional level, one that you both crave because there is nothing like falling asleep in the arms of the person you love, knowing you’re as precious to them as they are to you.

“I think that you’re trying to stake your claim in my bed.”  You say interrupting his thoughts as you rearrange your pillows to make space for Eddie’s bespoke addition. “You know how some women leave their earrings at a guy’s place so they have to call them? I think that’s what you plan to do with your pillow so you have to keep coming back.”

Eddie chuckles as he toes off his sneakers and tucking them neatly alongside your dresser. “That’s not the thing that’s going to keep me coming back. You know it’s always been you.”

“90% of the work is showing up.” You remark as you climb underneath the sheets and he understands what you’re saying in that moment. If he wants to keep you, he needs to put his money where his mouth is and start retaining a presence in your life, he needs to be the man you’ve always believed him to be.

“That’s what I’m doing.” He says, setting his pillow down in the space you’ve made for him before he lies down alongside you, gathering you up into his arms. “I’m showing up.”

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[bluespring864]

Tags by @crossedcourt <3

I will now run with them and write an essay because I am always insane about Novandy ;-)

Specifically I want to talk about the "yes i've beaten you on every surface" part. Because I've had a few messages and seen a few comments to the effect of "Wait, they are starting a partnership at the Australian Open of all places?! How many times did Novak beat Andy there?" To which the answer is: Andy lost four of his five Australian Open finals to Novak, three of them rather badly (two in straight sets, one with a fourth set bagel) and he also very narrowly lost probably the most epic match they ever played - according to both of them - which was the Australian Open semifinal in 2012.

While this would be devastating and a cause for animosity for many tennis players I need you to understand that THEY ARE NOT LIKE THAT. At their first meeting at an under-14 tournament, Les Petits As in France in 2001, which concidentally was Novak's first international tournament ever, Andy destroyed him 6-0, 6-1 (Novak: "You gave me one game!") and they still laugh about it to this day. If and when they do press for this new coaching partnership, expect this to come up a few times.

It has always felt to me like their modus operandi was: us against the world (Novak: “Sometimes we catch up for dinner. It’s good to see somebody you grew up with doing so well in professional tennis and it’s great to show to people that top-five players, who are big rivals on the court, can be really good friends as well.”) And it never really changed, even when Novak took a commanding 24-11 lead in the H2H over the years (I am only counting matches played and leaving out the fucking tragic walkover from Andy that prevented their last meeting from happening), after it briefly almost evened out in 2012/2013.

This attitude, of course, is rather impressive from Andy, who could very well be bitter about how differently their careers have gone, considering that they are such similar players who were born only one week apart and that there was definitely much more hype around Andy at the start of their careers (Novak said when they were both 18 and played doubles at, you've guessed it, the Australian Open, that he would and wouldn't like to be like Andy because on the one hand Andy had much more support than him at the time, on the other hand he had the crushing weight of expectations to contend with).

But instead of being bitter, for the last few years of his career you could hear Mr. Murray say things like: “It would be amazing to see him do it [win the 23d Grand Slam] on Sunday. I will be supporting him. And I hope he can do it. Because it is incredible what he has done.” or plainly "I'm happy for him, he deserves it." Or even: "After Wimbledon [2023], everyone was saying it was a changing of the guard, but it wasn't for me." Oh it wasn't for you? You are defensive over the man who has beaten you more than any other in your career being written off too early?

Even during that crazy year of 2016, when they were the two frontrunners in the rankings by miles and Andy was chasing the number one spot, what did he say after losing the only French Open final he ever played? Well, he started it off with "This is his day today. What he’s achieved the last 12 months is phenomenal." and not only told the audience they had been extremely lucky to see Novak make history once again, but also ended with: "I’m proud to have been a part of today."

Us. Against. The. World.

So that's Andy, but what about Novak? Well, not to be outdone he will mention Andy in almost every interview, even when he was very much not asked about him. He will remember the 2013 Wimbledon final which he lost in straight sets to Andy as "a historic, special moment that I cherish" and, on court at the ATP Finals 2016, after his own second half of the year had been rather dismal, he also explained to the crowd that they were part of history that day and that "It was an honour to be on the court and to be a part of the big occasion. Andy is definitely number one of the world. He is the best player. He deserved to win."

If asked about the best matches he has played with Andy he will readily mention the 2012 London Olympics semifinal. We all know how important the Olympics have always been to Novak (if you didn't before 2024, you certainly know now) and this was a semifinal loss at his beloved Olympics in straight sets. Let that sink in.

When Andy retired this year, Novak explained: “He will inspire many generations to come. He inspires me, and we are about the same age." He, who has just finished his career outside of the top 100 and in a doubles match because his body wouldn't even let him play singles anymore, inspires you, who has achieved more than any other in this sport? That's really lovely, Novak. Oh, and by the way, how about Andy becoming world No. 1 and ending Novak's longest stint at No. 1 in his career? Novak's post at the time: "I am really happy to be in the same era with you."

Us. Against. The. World.

So, to make a very long story short: If I was surprised about the coaching news yesterday it was because they actually went for it, not because it seemed outlandish to me in any way. As you can see, it makes perfect sense. I am really glad we are getting another chapter of this story which - according to Novak - is "A script, a long story. A romance, I’ll call it." after we previously were treated to - according to Andy - "Rivals, doubles partners, friends and lovers?" By the way, he still has that Instagram post pinned. Anyway, before I digress, let me conclude this by saying:

You thought their story was over? Think again.

[vodika-vibes]

Did You Know? - A Request from @wax-birds

Summary: You've been the Batch's medic since well before the Jedi Purge happens, and it just made sense to stick with them when they defected. Recently, Tech's been going out of his way to tell you random facts, and at first you were confused, but you're starting to understand what his game is.

Pairing: TBB Tech x F!Reader

Word Count: 1618

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: I hope this is close to what you wanted. I made up the planet, but I think the bird is an actual thing in the Star Wars verse...I didn't actually do any research, lol.

“Did you know,” You lift your gaze from your datapad to look at Tech, who’s standing awkwardly in the door to your area of the marauder, “the Morai birds mate for life and should their mate pass they remain in the nest waiting for them to return.”

“I…was not aware of that.” You say, “I also didn’t know that you were interested in the mating practices of birds.”

“Ah, well,” He nervously rubs the back of his neck, “I am interested in a wide range of topics.”

Amusement lifts your lips into a smile, “And your fixation for the week is birds?” You tease very gently.

“They are very brightly colored.” Tech offers, “And are native to the planet we are about to visit.” He hesitates, “And I remembered that you have a Morai tattoo.”

“Aww, Tech.” You clasp your hands under your chin, “You’re sweet, learning things about my favorite animals simply because they’re my favorite.”

“I…well, not solely for you. Omega had questions-”

“I DID NOT!” Omega shouts from the next room.

Tech ignores her with the long practice of an older brother, “And then I remembered your tattoo-”

Omega appears next to him, her face is scrunched up, “Stop lying! You looked that stuff up specifically-mmph!” Tech slaps his hand over Omega’s mouth, stopping her from talking.

“Thank you, Omega.”

Your gaze flickers from the annoyed preteen, to Tech, and then back again. “Well then, if neither of you are injured, I need to get back to work.”

Omega pulls Tech’s hand away from her mouth, “Tech just hit me!”

“I did no such thing.”

“I have bruises!”

“You do not.”

“I want you to arrest him!” Omega declares dramatically as she points at her brother.

“I’m a medic, Meg, not a cop.” You reply with a small grin, “You want someone to punish him for hitting you, go to Hunter.”

“Maybe I will!” Omega says loudly, before she rounds on her heel, “Hunter!”

“Why would you tell her that?” Tech asks with a sigh.

You wink at him, “Well, if you get hurt, it means that you get one on one attention, doesn’t that sound fun?”

Tech averts his eyes, but a small smile lifts the corner of his lips, “I suppose it does not sound…awful.” He finally says as he catches your gaze, for a moment, just a moment, there’s something hot and needy in his gaze, before it’s quickly banked, and he turns away from you. “I will leave you to your work. We will be landing on Mora in three days.”

You know your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you. You know what you saw. And you are very, very interested.

And so you flash a small smile, even as a plan starts forming in your mind, “I’ll be ready.”

Tech glances at you one more time, and then slips out of your workspace just as Hunter shouts for him, and you muffle your laugh. Sometimes, a lot of times, the men you travel with are so obviously brothers that it’s hilarious.

In fact, you’re pretty sure you heard Echo and Wrecker arguing over Wrecker stealing some of Echo’s snacks only a little bit ago.

Still, you wouldn’t trade this job for any other medical career in the galaxy.

After all, where else would an incredibly handsome man flirt with you using bird facts?

Three days later, the Marauder lands on Mora, and you, with your medical kit slung over your shoulder, and your camera in hand, couldn’t be more excited.

“Alright,” Hunter says, getting everyone’s attention. “It looks like we have five different places we need to visit.”

“It’ll be faster if we split up,” You offer reasonably, “Using the buddy system, of course.” You add once you see the look on Hunter’s face. “And naturally, I won’t be paired off with Omega, since we’re both harmless.”

“I have a crossbow,” Omega reminds you with a pout.

“Ah, right. My mistake.”

“So that means you’re the only one here who’s harmless.” Echo teases as he bumps you with his shoulder.

“Yeah, well…before all else, do no harm, etc, etc-” You reply with a grin, as you bump him right back.

“Anyway,” Hunter interrupts, “Splitting up and using the buddy system isn’t a terrible idea. I’ll go with Omega. Tech-”

“I do not mind going with the doctor,” He interrupts, “As I understand, one of these locations has medical equipment she needs to inspect.”

Hunter looks at him, disbelievingly. 

“It’s not a bad idea,” You offer cheerfully, “If anything is broken, I might not notice right away.”

Hunter turns his disbelieving gaze on you next, and you just beam at him. 

“Fine. Tech and the Doc are going together. Which leaves Echo and Wrecker.” Hunter says, “Any complaints? Good. Omega, come on.”

You grin as the other groups walk off in different directions, and then you turn your gaze on Tech, who’s watching you with a small smile on his lips, “Shall we?” You ask.

“It should not take that long to get the equipment that we need.” He agrees, as he turns in the direction of the shop, and then waits for you to fall into step next to him. 

“It shouldn’t,” You agree, “The longest part will really be you making sure that the equipment looks like it’s in working order.” 

He glances at you, “You really would not be able to determine if the gear was in working order?”

“Of course I’d be able to tell. I just wanted to spend time with you.” You reply with an unrepentant grin.

“O-oh.”

You cheerfully take his hand in yours and you lace your fingers with his, “Anyway, once we have the stuff delivered to the ship, we can look around on our own. I need a new jacket.”

Tech is staring at your joined hands, as if he’s not sure what to make of it, and then he slowly squeezes your hand, and is rewarded with a blinding grin. The moment he realizes that it’s intentional, some of the nervous tension drains from him. “Is there something wrong with your jacket?”

“Well…no. Not really.” You shrug, “It just doesn’t match.”

“...What does it not match?”

You sigh, “You and your brothers. My leather jacket is white! It needs to be darker so I actually look like I belong.”

“You do belong.” Tech says, “You are the most important member of the squad.”

“We both know that’s not true.” You say with a laugh.

“It is true,” Tech insists, “We would be lost several times over without you.”

“Aww, you’re sweet.”

“I am honest.” Tech replies, “You have saved all of our lives on many occasions. We owe you everything.” He pauses, “And I prefer it when you wear white. It makes it easier to see you on the battlefield.”

“That’s not necessarily a good thing.” You point out as the pair of you come to a stop in front of the shop that’s holding the medical equipment that you need to look at.

Tech doesn’t reply right away as he enters the shop, “I think you look nice in white.” He finally says and then he turns his attention towards the shopkeeper and offers the name on the order.

Inspecting the machines takes a lot longer than you would prefer. A lot longer than Tech would prefer too, based on the look on his face, but there’s no way around it. Cid would have your heads if any of the machines were damaged in any way.

But finally, finally, you’re able to confirm the delivery, and you slump against Tech, exhausted. “This is the worst job ever.” You whine.

Tech glances at you, “Well, we are done now.”

“Until Cid gives us another job.” You grumble, and then you lay your cheek against his shoulder, “We used to fight for the good of the Republic, this work is demeaning.”

“But Cid does pay us,” Tech reminds you quietly, “Which is what we need.”

You hum thoughtfully, “Yeah, I guess.”

You take his hand again, and then tug him away from the shop. “Where are we going?” Tech asks, though he doesn’t seem to have any problems with trailing after you.

You just grin at him, and tug him down an alley. “I wanted to go somewhere private.” You reply once you’re not surrounded by people.

“For what purpose?” Tech asks.

“For this one.” You stand on your toes and brush your lips against his, before you pull away, “I don’t know if maybe I’m misreading things-” You murmur, though you’re not able to finish your sentence, as he tugs you against him and crashes his lips against yours. 

One of his hands slides up into your hair, while the other tightly grips your hips, pulling you as close as he can. And when he breaks the kiss, his lips hovering just over yours, you can’t help but grin, “I take it I wasn’t misreading then?” You ask.

“I do not think you ever have.” Tech admits.

“Go me,” Your smile is soft and warm, “Hey, Tech?”

“Hm?”

“Did you know that I think about you all the time?” He blinks at you, startled, “And that I would be really, really happy if you loved me as much as I love you?”

“And here I thought that I was being obvious.” Tech murmurs, before he kisses you again and again, “Of course I feel the same way. Or else I would not be kissing you.”

You grin and lightly kiss him again.

“Did you know,” Tech says quietly, “That I think about you all of the time too?”

At that a bubbly laugh falls from your lips, “I do now.”

[teecupangel]

sooo Desmond is an Irish name, so fae Desmond?? 👀 haven’t been able to get to my laptop to search your blog if you've already done this idea, but I thought I’d throw it out there anyway!

am a big fan of Weird fae, like when you look at them you think they should be human but something about them is so obviously not. uncanny valley with a side of fight-flight-or-freeze instincts kicking in just from being around them.

is this something something that comes from his parents? is it all Isu bullshit? is it something he changes into or is he born with it?? on that vein, what if he was a changeling child? lots of ways of incorporating the Isu and the calculations into that for sure

(am one of the anons who keeps coming back for renaissance baker Desmond, so thank you very much for answering those asks, and also for just being a rad individual in general. am still catching up on Eagle of Alamut, I think I’m around chapter 30, and absolutely LOVE what you've already done with it and where you’re taking it. my sib assures me Altaïr makes his appearance soon, and I'm GREATLY looking forward to it.

thanks again, I hope you're well 🧡) —bread anon

(Thank you! I try my best hahahaha. I am so sorry for being slow on asks and replies TTATT

I hope you’re enjoying the rest of Eagle of Alamut… especially Altaïr’s appearance hehehe)

Desmond Miles always knew he was different.

The other kids call him ‘ugly’ and they don’t like to play with him.

He had cried in his mother’s arms and told her what happened and she just… she looked somber.

She patted his head and held him close, comforted him with soft words and a warm hug.

Never once did she say anything about his face.

He was a little bit older when he realized why they think he was ugly.

There were no mirrors in their home.

Or even in the training building he spent most of his childhood in.

But there was a hand mirror in the infirmary.

Desmond never had a reason to go there. What he lacked in brute strength, he made up by being faster than anyone on the Farm.

He had went to the infirmary to take the first aid kit. One of the other kids had a painful gash on his arm. It wasn’t life-threatening but it needed to be cleaned and disinfected.

Desmond had been ordered to get the first aid.

He supposed it was because he had been the reason the boy had hurt himself, trying to run away from him like he was being chased by demons during a ‘game’ of tag.

They always run like they were scared for their lives when Desmond was ‘it’.

The doctor wasn’t inside so Desmond went towards the cupboard that would have the small boxes of first aids stacked on the bottom shelf.

He stopped when he noticed the hand mirror.

And saw his reflection for the first time.

Desmond Miles was not ugly.

But there was something in his features that made him seemed… strange.

It wasn’t anything that can be physically described about his facial structure.

He looked human but there was something in the human brain that just made it scream ‘danger’.

Desmond couldn’t explain it.

But he could see it.

He didn’t bring the first aid back to training.

He went home.

His mother was cooking something.

“What am I, mama?”

She didn’t seemed surprised by the question. She looked resigned.

She looked like she had been waiting for the day he would ask the very same question.

She led him to the dining room, letting whatever was on the stove continue to simmer in low heat.

“You’re my son, my dear little fairy.”

She didn’t held the same unnatural feel as he felt when he looked at his reflection.

But it didn’t sound like a lie.

Her hands trembled as she caressed his cheeks.

Her smile was genuine as she whispered, “You will always be my baby.”

But he could hear it.

The fear in the voice.

Whatever he was…

He was affecting her too.

Yet she didn’t try to run.

So he hugged her, pressing his face against her stomach.

Her trembling stopped and she held him like she was afraid he was going to disappear from her grasps.

She didn’t fear him if she didn’t see his face.

Whatever he was…

It was the face that scared all of them.

.

Once upon a time, a young woman married a young man by the orders of her father. The man loved her but she did not. No matter what she did, she could not. She tried to be the best wife she could be.

She did not love him but she bore him a son. A weak little thing, more fragile than glass and smaller than any other child in their little commune.

She loved her child more than anything in the world.

But the world did not.

The child died during one cold winter night while her husband had been away.

In her grief, she took the cold body of her dead child and ran towards the forest, as silent as she was taught by her own father.

She came across a circle of mushrooms.

And heard the whispers of the fairy queen when she stood in the circle of it.

The fairy queen will save her child.

But he will become one of them.

“Yes! I agree! Please, save him!” The mother begged on her knees.

The fairy queen did not do it out of the goodness of her heart.

She was one of three rulers of their little fairy kingdom, long destroyed by the wrath of the sun.

She was nothing more than a ghost, traveling to the far future.

The mother gave the corpse to the ghost.

And the ghost gave it new life.

The mother thanked her as she held the warm body of her son.

And the ghost disappeared.

The mushroom circle melted like metal.

And mother and child returned to their home.

.

Centuries ago, Minerva saw a future which the Assassins and Templars waste years fighting each other instead of finding a way to save the world.

She saw a future where Desmond Miles would die to save the world in their stead.

So she made a different choice.

There was no one to stop her.

Tinia had long given up, waiting for the end as he drinks and drinks and drinks.

Juno remains imprisoned in the Grand Temple.

She was the only one left.

She changed the trajectory of the Calculations to one where Desmond Miles died as a weak human baby.

She created a device and had it transported to where his mother would walk into in her grief, her mind weakened to the point of thinking of falling off the cliff nearby with her dead son in her arms.

It was a device she had created using Consus’ research.

Consus’ research cannot bring back the dead.

But with Minerva’s modification…

It could clone the dead.

But she didn’t clone the weak human baby that would die centuries from now.

She created a child made of Desmond Miles’ DNA from that tragic future.

And added her own DNA to reinforce his body and mind.

A new future the Calculations could not predict.

A new future where Desmond Miles is both human and not.

Minerva did not know if this would be a better future.

Still…

She does not regret it.

At the very least, before she died…

She was able to save someone.

[anamoon63]

Real Life Update and Sim Resolutions (sort of)

Hi guys, I hope 2025 is treating you and your sims games really well. I know I've been a little bit absent lately, but I needed a few days to recover from all the Christmas-New Year's Eve madness, which included two exhausting shopping afternoons, intense cooking, therapy sessions, (which were not suspended for the holidays), translation work (of course), and a dental treatment consisting of two root canals (one of which is still in progress), plus a last minute small emergency (also dental) as a result of eating so much candy. (Yeah, I know, getting old sucks, lol!).

Anyway, I'm not gone, and I'm ready to come back to the fullest with all my sims characters.

Regarding Sims 3, for the time being we'll continue with The Cho Brothers Hidden Springs, about Tyron, the oldest of the Cho's. Then we'll go back to college with Dale and Kelly, (I really hope I can finish that part this year, lol).

For Sims 4 we'll continue with Allan and his family, the Wilsons, and I'd also like to introduce some of my other Sims 4 characters, if possible, but no promises, because with all these Sims 4 updates I never know how my game is going to end up. 🙄

Also, at some point early this year, finally, my Time Traveler story will continue, I'm pleased to announce that the first two episodes are almost ready, I'm not saying an exact date because, again, I don't want to make promises, all I can tell you is that it's a matter of days before these new episodes see the light of day. So, folks, this is a good time to catch up with past episodes you might have missed, to re-read or start reading the story from the beginning if you've never done so. You will find the first two (complete) parts in the Time Traveler tab from the main menu of my WP blog, here.

If you just want to read the most recent TT episodes and posts, then you can go to the Time Traveler category in the side menu of said blog, here.

I hope I can continue reading all your guys' stories too, some of which I'm way behind on, but I'll catch up with all of you soon!

Last but not least, just as I mentioned in the title, this post is not just a real life update but also a response to the Sim Resolutions tag by my dear friend @nocturnalazure Thanks Noctie for tagging me! 🤗❤️

I don't usually make resolutions or set goals with my sims, cause I almost always end up breaking them. I don't set deadlines either, for the same reason, deadlines I leave for work, my sims stories are my happy place, something I do to relax, not to push myself. So, again, no resolutions, what I have just posted here is kind of the idea of what we will be seeing this year. Basically, there are still plenty of sims to go around!

Well, that's it, happy simming to you all, and please stay tuned! 😉

[marstons-angel]

Ooo for the writing game, maybe Lae'zel and sick fic? I feel like whether it's her getting sick and vehemently denying it or trying to care for a sick s/o in her own. Unique. Way, it would be very entertaining regardless dfjlask

✧ tags : gender neutral reader, sickfic, silly.

"You dare try to bench me like a foot soldier?"

You frown at her. She's visibly upset at you, brows pinched and face more scrunched up than you thought possible. If she didn't look ready to smash you into the ground under her boot, you might think she's cute.

Well that's not fair. You do, still, think she's cute.

But that's neither here nor there. Lae'zel is sick and there's no two ways about it.

It wasn't a regular illness. When is it ever with you people? Some home brew concocted ailment from getting sliced in the Shadowlands - that even Shadowheart is having a hard time dealing with, godly healing and all. The symptoms are obvious, weakness and high body temperatures and nausea. No amount or strength or healing potions seems like it's going to cure it and drinking all kinds of antidotes hasn't been working either.

Halsin has some suspicion about it, but he'd need some herb that grows closer to the cities gate and it's a few days trip to get there, even using the shortest route. For the time being, though, it means Lae'zel is ill. It's not anything too miserable. Seems like a peskier version of a common cold and it comes and lingers much longer.

But well, Lae'zel is a warrior githyanki. You don't think she's ever been truly sick like this in her entire life. She's also very obviously miserable in trying to fight it off, forcing her way into remaining in your group and fighting alongside you when Karlach could very easily take her place.

It was fine the first few days, but you're positive that keeping her around in such a way is only making it worse. As her unofficial lover and the only she seems to pay even a little bit attention too, the responsibility fell on your shoulders to ensure that nothing too terrible happens under your care.

So you've been trying to wrangle her into her tent with minimal success. She doesn't like being told what to do and what not to do - but you find that you're unwilling to budge because you really don't care to see her sick.

You frown at her, perhaps unhelpfully. Sighing, you place a tentative hand on her forehead and try to ease her back against the soft mess of blankets underneath her. You think she growls at you, or something along those lines. Something biting and cautious leaving her mouth.

You can tell she's exhausted because pushing her back down when she inevitably tries to get back up is half as hard as it should be.

"Lae'zel," You say gently, trying to keep her from biting your hand off "Please? Just... rest for a little while."

You play up the desperation in hopes it sticks. She at least seems softened by it. In some way. You purse your lips trying to figure out how else to convince, her nose still turned up at you. Something alights in your brain/

"Y-you know Lae'zel, when one warrior falls injured it's not a sign of weakness but proof of strength," You stumble, trying to sound as convincing as you can. "And it uhm, gives other members of the ranks to prove themselves. So it's not...weak for you to rest. Just gives everyone else a chance to catch up,"

You try not to cringe at the sound of your own voice, awkward and stilted. It's a little ridiculous isn't it? But well - while Lae'zel is a lot of things, she cares about the pack as a whole. Her words, not yours. Teamwork hopefully speaks to her enough to get her to listen.

She turns her head to look at you slightly, lips upturned as she huffs what sounds like a laugh. Definitely laughing at you. You flush, preparing to give up.

Her hands reach up for your face, think fingers cradling your cheek as she brings you down to her level to kiss you.

Her mouth is warm and the kiss unusually tender. You chalk it up to sickness because you can't fathom any other reason she'd do it.

"Your useless muttering reeks of the wizards influence," She says, and it sounds affectionate. To your ears at least. Maybe you're imagining it. "I shall rest, lest you bite your tongue on your own foolishness."

"Thank you, Lae'zel,"

"Keep watch," She mumbles back, eyes starting to close. And, maybe this time you're really imagining it - but it sounds like she's asking you to stay.