#I think reminiscing on the time you had with someone you've lost

[ministarfruit]

day 28: parting gift ♡

(prompt list for femslashfeb)

[crispy-armpit]

✧ 𝖎'𝖒 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖘 ✧

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ʀᴏᴄᴋꜱᴛᴀʀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

☆⋆｡🎧𖦹 °✩ 🎸⋆⸜♩

��� 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: reminisce about your forgotten first meeting with Deimos 3 years ago. meanwhile, you've been invited to watch his concert after the previous events. (pt.2)

⭒ 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵: 𝘨𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘯𝘫𝘶𝘳𝘺, violence, implied stalking, reader gets called a bitch, (slight) sadism, kinda tame

⭒ 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 1,495

⭒ a/n: dear lord i am simping for my own art... hope u all enjoy reading this! i'll be opening asks & make a short introduction in the next post ^^ ( yan jock makes an appearance here too!)

will you venture down this path?

where is he?

did I walk in the wrong direction?

am I lost?

... nope, this is the right place.

you are standing alone in a dark alleyway, looking around the location you agreed to meet your friend in. checking the virtual clock on your phone, you count the time you have left before you go on stage. 32 minutes.

time was ticking and he was still nowhere in sight. there's no way you could perform the duet alone. anxiously, you try texting your friend again.

You 》 17:28

bro where are u

i'm alr here

are u lost again

LIAM

liam

liam

liam

liam

liaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaam

fuck it, i'm leaving him. alleys are never good news. ever since you entered the place, your stomach has been in knots and the back of your head was tingling. it's almost as if... someone's been watching you.

typing on the small screen, you tell him you're going to meet him behind the stage instead. you speed walk towards the end of the tunnel, relieved you were leaving this place. you almost reach the exit until a rough hand pulls on your wrist.

a gruff voice speaks, "hey, you dropped this."

SHIT, I'M GOING TO DIE—

without thinking, you instinctively clench your fists into a ball and punch the unknown 'assailant' on the nose— effectively causing him to bleed. the stranger gasps out various curse words as you turn to scream and run away.

"I'M SORRYYyyyy—"

knuckles still bruised from the impact, you try to hide them as best as you can from the crowd's attention. Liam had managed to arrive on time, seconds before the performance. he claimed to have come across an old friend on the way who was difficult to shake off. but that was all in the past, and he has yet to notice your injured knuckles.

currently, you are performing on the stage in front of a sea of people. with your friend on the acoustic guitar, you both sang a duet that sang of two lovers, a confession of how one felt incomplete without the other.

it was a popular song, so Liam insisted on it. you were glad he did because in the end, the happy crowd's applause rang loud across your ears. a sound you'll always love.

now off the stage, you and Liam decide to explore the festival's offerings. the spring festival at night is beautiful— lanterns clipped across the starry sky and flowers and people littering the area. you approach one of the food stalls that lined the streets, purchasing a sundae of your favourite flavour.

as you are about to pay, you rummage through your pockets and realise... your wallet is gone. did i leave it at home?! Liam seems to pick up on your situation as he pulls out his own wallet, "i'll pay for them." you thank him and promise to pay him back. "it's alright, you don't have to." he smiles.

suddenly, a loud voice approaches the both of you, "Oi, Lili! ya did great up there, man." you turn to see a group of four people heading your way who were all dressed head-to-toe in punk clothing and carrying band equipment. they must be a band. a slim man holding wooden drumsticks pats Liam on the back, and he shortly notices you.

"oh? hello there, mx. the name's Vern." he grins and offers you a handshake, to which you politely return.

"y/n. nice to meet you, Vern. I'm a friend of Liam's."

"a friend of Liam is a friend of mine, y/n!" Vern heartily laughs, "let me introduce you to the gang, y/n— of course, you've met me, the drummer. that lady with red hair is Kyra, the lead guitarist. the young-looking fellow with shit for brains is Astrid, our second guitarist. and finally, our beloved lead singer and bassist, D—"

you don't have time to react before your face is roughly grabbed by a hand larger than your head, cheeks squished. you try to pry your face away from the thick fingers of the unknown man, as you shakily look up at his furrowed eyes. he's seething, and you don't know why.

"it's you. fucking bitch."

you don't know what you've done to this man to warrant such a reaction, you've never even met him before!... right? you think back to earlier in the day when you punched the stranger from the alley. shit, it's him.

though muffled by his palms, you still manage to voice out an apology. for the first time in your life, you feel a sensation rushing through your blood. dread and terror. in the corner of your eyes, you spot Liam being held back by a concerned Vern and Astrid.

you desperately try to pull his hand off your face while repeating apologies, but it's useless. he's too strong. the tall stranger continues to stare at you and you swear he was enjoying this. if not for the sick glint in his eyes or the soft panting from his pierced lips, then maybe for the light blush dusting his cheeks.

after what felt like hours, he finally lets go. you immediately massage your aching jaw and cheeks at his release. the stranger scoffs and hands you a familiar item... it's your wallet! "...found this in the alley. you throw a good punch." you gently take the small pouch off his hands and thank him.

a ghost of a smirk morphs on his face before he grunts and walks past you. the others instantly follow behind him like baby ducks trailing their mother, but not without giving you a sympathetic look. Vern checks up on you before joining his group, "woah, he's never spared anyone before. sorry about him, but i hope you'll still come to watch us?"

Liam, who is no longer held back, runs to your side and inspects your face. "are you alright?? fuck, I should teach him not to mess with you!" he angrily shouts. you're still recovering from shock. but that doesn't stop you from thinking how nice the stranger's smile looked. "do you want to go home? i'll drive you bac—"

with newfound motivation, you're able to speak again, "no, i'm fine. let's go watch the next show!"

you and Liam stand in front of the stage, somehow having managed to get past the current of people. there are way more people than before, and you notice some of them are holding signs. confused, you turn to the person next to you and ask her, "hey, what's with all the people? is a celebrity coming?"

she looks at you astounded, "you seriously don't know? Ares is performing next! they're like, all over social media right now." Ares? you don't think you've heard any singer with that name before. before you can ask who they are, waves of screams fill your ears as 4 pairs of feet walk on stage. you look back at Liam to see him clapping for the band, following his gaze, you accidentally lock eyes with a pair of heterochromatic eyes.

he acknowledges your presence with a lazy lift of his brow and faces the crowd again. this time, the audience shouts in union.

ARES!

ARES!!

ARES!!!

the electrifying sound of a guitar and drums booms through the speakers. the ground vibrates along with the rhythm, as your heartbeat follows along. the song begins, but it's not until you hear the deep bass of the leader's voice do you feel the aching throb of your core.

(R U Mine? - Arctic Monkeys)

I'm a puppet on a string

holy shit.

She's a silver linin', lone ranger ridin' through an open space...

his voice is intoxicating.

In my mind, when she's not right there beside me

I go crazy 'cause here isn't where I wanna be

your heart feels like it's about to burst out of your chest.

And satisfaction feels like a distant memory

And I can't help myself

All I wanna ever say is, "Are you mine?"

yes.

Well, are you mine?

Are you mine?

Are you mine? Oh, ah

i'm yours.

his deep voice that was once laced with anger and malice— now brings your own heart to tears. you could only think about what was going through his mind to sing a beautiful song in such a wrenching manner. and on that day, you swore to one day bring someone to tears with your voice, just like he had with you.

but what you did not know was that you'd already done the exact same thing to Deimos earlier that day. and for that, he'd follow you down every road until there comes a time when your paths meet again.

back in the present, you've been forced invited to watch Deimos' latest concert. like before, you sat at the very front row, right in front of his assigned position. the only difference from then was his lovestruck eyes that would never leave your figure.

in the end, he was yours.

[fanficsat12am]

when the brothers realize how much MC loves them I Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus

📜 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃!! 📜

Lucifer & Mammon

Happy New Year everyone!! Hope ya guys had a great flippin holiday time :> As always, notes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated <33 Have fun reading!!

Leviathan

Putting himself down was second nature to him at this point—sometimes he didn’t even realize he was doing it. It especially got even worse after getting into a relationship with you. His mind refused to believe that anyone could ever love someone like him. 

Levi dreaded the day you’d finally see what he sees and ultimately decide to leave, but he wouldn't hold it against you. Why would you settle for someone like him when there were countless others in the three realms who could give you so much more…

“Hey, you okay?” you asked worriedly, noticing his glazed look and how his eyes had dimmed. “O-of course I’m fine! Pft, why would I be lol,” he stumbles out, trying to keep up his facade—but of course, you saw through it. 

As he tries to get back to his game he can feel your eyes piercing him. 

“I’m going to ask you how you are one more time and I would like you to answer me honestly,” gently taking the controller in his hands from him and placing it aside. “Now tell me, what’s up?”

“I-I’m sorry,” he said, the words not too foreign to his tongue. 

“If this is about last week I've already told yo-” “Ugh, that’s not what I meant…” he cuts you off, trying to find the right words. 

“I-it’s just…you could have had ANYBODY else, but instead you’re stuck with me. I can’t 1v1 Beel's body, Diavolo’s money, Asmo’s looks- heck even stupid Mammon’s got charm! I'm just Levi, the plain old third-born…” he bites his lip, trying to keep his tears at bay. His efforts proved futile as he felt its warm trickle slowly dripping down his face, one after the other.

A part of him wanted to take back everything he just said—to restart and pick a different approach. But this wasn’t another one of his games. This was real life, and in here you've only got one shot. It was game over, he knew he had lost. 

He shut his eyes tight, listening closely for the sound of you finally walking out those doors. He couldn't bear to watch you leave him. 

You shake your head at the absurdity of his words, cupping his face into your hand. “I’m not stuck with you, silly. I choose to be here.”

Opening his eyes back again he's met with you smiling at him, the sight making his heart skip a beat. 

“I’m here because I can’t get enough of you. I love how your cheeks would go red when I catch you staring at me,” you say, leaning closer and leaving a kiss on his cheek. 

“How your brows would furrow and your eyes would squint whenever you’re focused on your game,” sending a kiss by the bridge of his nose. 

You gently grab his wrist and fumble on the soft skin of his palms with the pads of your thumb. “How you’d start gesturing with your hands a lot when you talk about the latest anime you’re into,” you reminisce, another kiss now to the back of his hand. 

“How right before you fall asleep, you hold me closer and whisper to the dead of the night how much you love me,” you say as you end it with a tender kiss to his lips. 

“And each day I find myself falling for you even more. They could try to give me the whole world, but they’ll never be you. So please, stop thinking you need to earn my affection because you don't. Not now and not ever.” 

You lift his face up to meet your gaze, looking at him as if you see right through him. “There is nothing I would change about you. You are perfect in my eyes.”

He felt like his heart was about to beat out of his chest. He was left speechless, his mind going haywire with everything you had just said. 

Seeing how his brain had completely stopped working, he let his body do all the talking instead. He wordlessly wrapped you in a tight embrace, cherishing the warmth of your body against his. 

The bitter taste of the sin he was meant to represent felt absent. Levi sensed no need to be envious of others when he had someone like you to call his.

Satan

Not once had he let himself think that he could indulge himself in something such as love—for wrath did not deserve the peace of love. While love held everything together in its warm embrace, wrath tirelessly tore with its cold unforgiving hands. 

Despite their differences, there was no denying that both were blind. Just like a moth, you were entranced by the beautiful embers of his flame, blissfully indifferent to the heat. 

He stared at his reflection with disdain. The obsidian black horns adorning his head felt heavier the longer he looked, not to mention the tail that whipped mindlessly on its own. He gritted his teeth in disgust, delivering a blow to the mirror that sent it hurdling to the ground. Through his ragged breaths and the rapid beating of his heart, he hears a voice not of his own. 

"Satan?" you called, breaking him from his trance-like state. You softly closed his door behind you, hands outstretched and unsteady. 

With each step you took, he took two back—his mind screaming at him to stay away from you but his heart yearning to leap into your hold. 

"Hey, it's okay," you reassured, taking a step towards him. 

"No it's not!" he screams, backing away from your approaching form. 

Hearing the crunch of glass under the weight of his shoes, he takes notice of the mirror he broke just moments ago. Reflected on its cracked surface was a distorted image of him; a monster.

"Please, let me help," you pleaded, trying to close the gap between you. He hastily steps back, tripping on his own feet and leaving him a heap on the floor. 

"Don't come any closer!" he screams, the room shaking with the sheer volume of his voice. You kneel to his level, quickly engulfing him in your arms. 

‘Run. He doesn't deserve you. Just stay away.’ He repeated in his head like a silent prayer, hoping that by some miracle it would come true. 

But as he felt you hold him tighter, he knew you would do nothing of the sort. As he trembled in your arms, he wills himself to ask the question that had been plaguing his mind since the day you'd started dating. 

"Why?" he whispered softly, almost inaudible if not for the heavy silence of the night. "I could lose control. Why do you insist on staying? To even consider feeling anything for a monster such as myself is just…foolish."

You think about your answer carefully, knowing that what you say next will mend or break the man in your hold. "Loving someone takes courage. To trust someone with your heart and believe they would keep it safe. Keep you safe. Let the three realms call me foolish but there's no doubt in my mind that I love you, Satan. Not the Avatar of Wrath, you Satan,'' you answer truthfully, pouring every ounce of your heart into each word.  

Gently taking hold of his chin, you tilt his head up to meet your eyes. "Tell me now Satan, will you hurt me?" you ask, the demon shaking his head immediately. He wouldn't dream of ever wishing to cause harm to you. He would die first before anybody, let alone himself, hurt you. 

"Then it is not foolish of me to love you" you say, your words unfaltering. 

Tears welled in his eyes, accepting defeat at the hands of your love and melting deeper into your embrace. As he lays on your chest, he turns to face where your heart would be and whispers an oath. "I love you, MC. I shall protect you with my life" he vows, sealing his promise with a kiss.

Asmodeus

As the Avatar of Lust and the Jewel of the Heavens, he was always the talk of the town. You, on the other hand, weren’t too familiar with the gossip world. Although you knew that was going to change once you officially became a couple. 

You took no mind to it, brushing them off with a small wave knowing that the wrong move could only add more oil to their flame. But Asmo wasn’t like you. He could feel all the looks they gave him, the incessant whispers and murmurs whenever he’d turn his back. 

He typically had no care for whatever lies people have heard about him. The same could not be said though when they had the audacity to include you into the mix. It was slowly chewing away at him and he couldn’t deny the pit of doubt slowly churning inside him.

“I saw MC out with one of the brothers last week. They’ve been getting closer recently. I wonder what happened between them"

"I saw them leaving school with Simeon yesterday, I’m surprised that’d cheat on Asmo with someone like him” 

”They’ve got the most powerful people of the Devildom wrapped around their finger and they’re still with Asmo? Damn”

The final blow was realizing that everything was better without him in the picture. Your smile wasn't just bright, it was brighter, you weren't just happy, you were happier. 

He slams his door shut, sliding down the wooden surface as he feels his legs give underneath him.

‘Can’t you see? They were never the problem. No matter what you do, you could never satisfy them. Once again you've proved to be useless.’

‘You think they’d just be swayed by your face? By the number of followers you have? Underneath it all you're nothing. It's just pathetic.’

He shook his head, gripping and pulling on his delicate sand blonde hair. No matter how hard he cupped his hands over his ears, their words never ceased. His eyes pricked with tears, months of silent torture finally finding his moment of weakness.  

You on the other hand were beyond worried. You were no stranger to Asmo’s flamboyant walk outs but this was different. As you neared the door to his room, you could hear silent sobs and cries on the other side. Knocking softly, you worriedly call out to him.

“Asmo?” The sobbing stops, rendering the halls eerily silent. “Darling, what’s wrong? Can I come in?” Still no response. 

Asmo freezes at the sound of your voice, the loud thumping of his heart drowning out the constant knocking on his door. An internal conflict rages within him. Not only is the person causing all this mess of emotions on the other side of the door, but the only one who can make it all go away as well. 

“Please talk to me. I need to know that you’re alright.” Just as you’re deciding if you should get some help from the others, the door opens. From it, a hand grabs your wrist, swiftly pulling you inside and closing the door. 

Looking around, the usually bright and pinkish room was cold and dark. You could barely see anything with the only light coming from his window. 

The crisp silence of the night was cut by the uneven breathing of Asmo who was still by the door. You reach out to gently place a hand on his shoulder. 

“Sweetie?” you call, fingertips only a few milliliters away, when his voice stops you in your tracks. 

“Do you love me?” he whispers. 

“Of course I do,” you answer immediately, not missing a beat. 

You gently grab him by the shoulder and turn him to face you, your heart breaking at the sight of your lover being in so much turmoil. 

“Oh, Asmo…” your hand tenderly holds his cheek, the other wiping away the tears that have yet to cease from falling. 

“Each day, I hear another rumor about you finding somebody else…” he pauses, taking a deep shuddering breath. “If you’re going to do it, please just do it already and save me the mascara.”

He knows that watching you leave will hurt more than any hangover can ever do to him. It would be like he was falling from the pristine white gates of Celestia again, powerless as he saw all he held dear fade into a memory of what he had once had.

He could try to convince himself that the rumors were true. That you were only ever with him for his fame and looks and that he never cared about you. But of all the lies that have circulated, that would have been the biggest one.

“Honey, I’m not leaving you. Not now, not ever,” you say as you tuck a lock behind his ear. “If you think I’d ever love someone after you then I have failed in showing you how much you mean to me.”

Through blurred vision, Asmo tries to find an ounce of deceit within the windows to your soul; a malicious grin, a break in eye contact, a drop of sweat. Nothing. 

He lets out a shuddering breath he didn’t know he was holding, pressing his soft hands upon your own and interlacing it with his. It was stupid of him to ever doubt your feelings for him. To hell with what they thought of the both of you. All he cared about now was now, being here in your hold, forever.

“You’re so cute sometimes, darling…" he whispers in amusement, a small smile finally making its way onto his lips. 

“Please tell me I still look fabulous even after all that tears. Ugh, my eyes are gonna be so puffed up tomorrow!” 

You chuckle at his comment, happy to see him start coming back to you. “Still ever so stunning, My Prince.”

“Let’s stay like this for just a bit more, hm? All this crying made me tired. Then after, we can run a nice warm bath for the two of us. Doesn't that sound wonderful?” He murmured, melting more into your touch.  

“Whatever you’d like, darling,” you replied, pressing your forehead to his. 

And there you stayed, forehead to forehead, hands intertwined, just you and him in the comfort of each other's touch.

AN: Thanks a bunch for reading!! Would love to hear your thoughts in the comments <33

[chlorinecake]

 ⋆｡˚ ✈︎ love at first flight | N.RK

ft riki x fem!reader, nwjns hanni, enha jake | genre fluff, airport crush, strangers to lovers | cw language, flirting, kissing, dirty jokes, petty "arguments," possibly geographically incorrect | pt. 1, 2, and 3 here | wc 4894

synopsis. 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘬𝘦𝘯𝘥, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘭 𝘢𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳…🗼

It was around 11:00pm as you struggled to find your passport.

"I could've sworn it was on my desk yesterday," you thought to yourself, searching through your messy bedroom.

After your morning cafe date with Riki, he dropped you off at your apartment so you could get started with packing as soon as possible, given that your flight was booked for take off the next day.

You're still not sure why you said yes to Riki's impulsive offer, though, part of you wanted to believe that saying "no" would've been an even riskier call.

Riki, in all of his handsome glory, had been a menace to your soul. You just couldn't put a finger on what is was about him that kept luring you in almost magnetically.

Ding, dong.

Your breath hitched at the sound of someone knocking outside your apartment door. Grabbing the purple ink pen from your dresser, conveniently sitting next to your diary, you gripped it like a weapon as you approached the door cautiously.

Knock, knock, knock.

Unlocking the latch and twisting the handle, you slung the door open to reveal none other than Riki, standing calmly with grocery bags in each hand.

"Good night! And yes, that can be a greeting… What's the pen for?" He shrugged, walking past you and straight into your apartment as if owning the place.

You flashed him an annoyed look before closing the door behind him, suddenly feeling embarrassed while dressed in your pjs.

"It's for self defense, night stalker. And how'd you even know where I live?" You asked accusingly.

"I drove you here earlier after the cafe, remember?" He said while placing the grocery bags on your study desk to unload the items.

Damn, you thought to yourself, It must be wayyy past my bedtime...

"Anyways, I brought you this neck pillow-thingy for the plane," Riki smiled, walking up to you and fastening the pillow around your neck, "Pretty cool, right?"

"Uhhh, sure," you mumbled, standing awkwardly as he welcomed himself to explore your bedroom.

"So...," he began with a grin, "this is where you keep your pretty little panties, huh?" Running a finger over the surface of your dresser, he stopped once he met your oh-so familiar diary.

"Hmm. I remember this little guy. How many pages have you written about me so far? My guess is at least 3."

"Jokes on you, Riki. I don't reminisce about people I haven't even known for a week," you said with a sigh, plopping on your bed, too tired to retaliate physically.

He parts his lips as if wanting to say something, but nothing came out. He only walked over to your bed, taking a seat beside you.

"Look, ____. If you wanna back out of this trip, it's not too late. I understand that this is a pretty big thing I'm asking of you."

"No, Riki, I really do wanna go. It's just that I lost my passport somewhere in this stupid apartment and now I can't find it," you pouted before suddenly feeling his weight escape your side.

He paced around your room as if an internal GPS was guiding him in the right direction.

"What're you doing?" You giggled, watching as he picked up a random toilet paper tube to use as a searching tool.

"Shh, I think I see it!" He whispered, reaching for a navy blue and gold envelope from under one of your shoe boxes, "Voici!"

You gazed in shock, not only at his use of French, but also at how he actually managed to find it, let alone that quickly.

"Holy shit, Riki! You're a lifesaver!" You beamed, running to give him a bear hug.

"I bet you've been dying to do that since I came in," he teased, trying to conceal his own blushing.

You were losing track of how many times he flirted with you in the past five minutes, but you were just glad that he found your passport in time.

All there was left to do now after packing was explain to your best friend Hanni where you'd be for the next 2-3 days.

The following morning came by quicker than you already expected it to.

Fortunately, y'all arrived at the airport just in time for boarding, going to your respectful seats on the aircraft according to your ticket numbers.

And finally, it was time for takeoff.

You and Riki hadn't even been on the plane for thirty minutes before you started bumping heads with each other.

“How come you get to sit by the window? You’re not even taking pictures,” You scolded him, crossing your arms in frustration.

“You see? That’s the problem with this generation. Always seeking technology to bring them happiness," He said, shaking his head.

“Riki, we’re literally depending on technology to carry us cross country. Welcome to our advanced society.”

“That’s not even a fair comparison, but go off.”

You scoffed, “Don’t ‘but go off’ me!”

“Or what?” He challenged, flashing you a smirk that made you internally curse him for being so effortlessly attractive.

“I said, or what?” He continued, putting an arm around the head of your seat and pulling your face towards his by your chin.

The way he peered into your eyes made you feel like kissing h—

OH GOD, NO! NOT AT ALL! NEVER, you thought to yourself.

He licked his lower lip, making you stutter as you answered, “O-or I’ll… I’ll tell your mom on you!”

He snorted at your empty threat, “Yeah, good luck with that. She doesn’t speak English for shit.”

“Well, whatever, I’ll just use google translate,” you snapped back.

“Oh, so you think fast?”

“Only when I-“

He interrupted your words with a kiss to your forehead, “Not fast enough, apparently,” he winked, sitting back in his seat.

Oh boy. This trip is already kicking off to an interesting start.

You sat frozen as if he’d just snatched your soul away, focusing on the moisture his lips left on your skin.

“And don’t even think about wiping that off,” he smirked, searching through his carrier bag before pulling out a pair of wired headphones.

You weren't gonna let him win that easily.

Exhaling your nerves, you thought of something catty to say back to him/

“Now look who’s a product of our e-generation, Mr. iPad Kid. Let me guess, is it time for Cocomelon?” You pouted facetiously, trying to conceal your nervousness from whatever the hell possessed him to kiss you.

“I’m just tired of hearing the air conditioner," he shrugged, "Sue me.”

Riki plugged the headphones into his phone port, opening the Spotify app (not sponsored lol) on his phone and selecting a random playlist. “Wanna listen?” He asked softly, meeting you with his dark brown eyes.

You took the left earbud from his hand, positioning it into your own ear as the sounds of lofi rhythms met your ears. After a few minutes, you drifted off to sleep, not even realizing that you were laying on his shoulder.

Riki eventually followed after you, leaning his head atop yours as he snored softly. Though, he’d likely never tell you that part of the story once you woke up.

A couple more hours in the plane passed, and you were officially landing at your final destination: Paris, France.

“I'm sorry, you’re WHERE? With WHO?!?!” Hanni yelled over the phone.

You didn’t mean to make it seem like you'd been keeping this big secret from her, but you simply never got around to telling her... that you were impulsivey traveling across country with a guy you met at the airport last week.

“Look, it’s only for a few days, I’ll be fine,” you replied, unpacking your luggage on the hotel room bed.

Riki was busy getting you an extra key card for the room, so you didn’t have to worry about him barging in on your conversation for a while.

“Tell me. Why did you think this was a good idea, ____. Honestly? Hell, did you even think before saying yes?”

“Of course I did, Hanni… but if you’re just gonna keep scolding me, I’d rather we talk about something else,” you whined, hating the way she started to make you feel.

"Ugh, I’m sorry, bestie! Please don’t misinterpret my concern for cruelty.”

“It’s okay, Hanni, I know you're just looking out for me... but, maybe this was a bad idea.”

“Omg, naur!! Forget I said anything! I want you to enjoy yourself in Paris! Just call me if you need anything, alright?…unless it’s love advice or—”

“Money, I know. Talk to you later, pigtails!”

“Later,” she giggled, ending the call with a ‘mwah’ from her end. You placed your phone down on the mattress, flinching at the sight of Riki walking out of the bathroom, tossing the extra key card on the bed.

“What the- I thought you were in the lobby?”

“Yeah, but I came back up not too long ago. Don’t worry, I didn’t eavesdrop… the entire time,” he teased, running a hand through his hair as he observed your luggage. “I hope you have a pretty outfit in there.”

“Mhm, and why’s that?”

“Because, we’re going out to dinner, silly,” he said, pulling out an ironing board from the closet to press his wrinkled pants.

You didn't expect for Riki to wanna go out so soon after just arriving.

Either way, you tried on a few outfits before finally choosing the beret and plaid pink skirt-suit you usually wore during business meetings, which ironically fit the chic Parisian aesthetic.

“Bonjour, and welcome to Le Goût! Do you need help navigating the menu or are you familiar with French dishes?” The waitress asked in a friendly accent.

“We actually already spoke to one of your waiters. He’s putting in our order right now,” Riki replied, handing her one of the extra menus from your table.

“Very well, then. I’ll pop back around once you’re ready to order dessert. Call for Ines if you need anything else,” she smiled, walking away.

You swirled the ice cubes in your glass, just as your previous waiter came out with your food.

“Velvety Escargots Bourguignonne for the gentleman, and Chicken Fricassee for the lady,” he said, placing down your plates and walking away.

Riki stared at his plate with disgust in his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, folding a napkin over your lap to catch any spills or crumbs as you ate.

“Uhmmm, I didn’t order snails…,” he cringed, poking at the shelled creatures on his plate with a fork.

“You literally looked at the menu and told the waiter that’s what you wanted. I thought you spoke French!”

“I do, but that doesn’t mean I can read it,” he replied.

“What did you think ‘escargot bourguignonne’ meant anyways?”

“Dunno, sounds like a pasta dish to me.”

“Well… do you wanna trade plates?” You offered, not wanting to come off as silly foreigners for misreading the menu.

“Pfft, of course not, I’m getting my money back! Ines! Excusez-moi, madame Ines?!”

You reached for Riki’s hand, trying to redirect his attention, “Riki, please, let’s just enjoy our food. Paris is a culinary landmark, I’m sure we’ll run into some better places after this,” you pleaded, swapping the plates on the table.

He let out a sigh, unrolling his napkin and placing it on his lap as well, “Fine. Bon appétit and what not.”

After finishing up in Le Goût, you and Riki took a walk from the restaurant, exploring the streets of France.

You weren’t too worried about getting lost, because Riki hired a personal chauffeur to guide you two through the city if needed..

He hadn’t realized how much farther ahead of you he was walking until you grabbed onto his hand.

“Oh, so we’re making it a public thing, I see?” He winked, pulling you closer to him.

“No, you just walk fast as hell and I can’t keep up with your legs,” you corrected, giving him a look.

“Mhm, whatever you say, ____.”

That’s when you two stumbled upon a group of people, waiting at the edge of a dock to be boarded on for a boat ride.

“Please don’t say you’re afraid of water,” Riki looked at you with hopeful eyes.

You weren’t too fond of potentially getting your cute outfit soiled, but with the way Riki peered into your eyes, it was hard to say no... again.

“Okay, let’s go,” you smiled, following behind him as he led you by the hand.

It didn’t take long for the officials to load you and Riki on the raft, as he opted for the cheaper version that gave him control to row the boat.

You watched as he paddled across the Seine River with childlike glee, observing the antique buildings surrounding the Eiffel Tower.

If it wasn’t for the cool breeze pulling you back to reality, you would’ve believed you were dreaming at how beautiful the scenery was.

How beautiful this moment with Riki was—

Ugh, never mind, it’s probably the snails affecting the chemicals in your brain.

“This is incredible,” Riki exclaimed, his arms rotating at a constant circle as he maneuvered the boat paddles, soaking up the Parisian sun.

“Like how incredible it is that despite your amateurish being, you can somehow pull everything off,” you smirked, nudging his knee with your shoe.

“Amateurish being? I have a lot of tricks up my sleeve that you haven’t even seen yet, ____. Trust, biologically, I was BUILT to pull everything off.”

“Right, so what happened with those snails earlier?”

“Gosh, are you seriously bringing that up right now?”

“Yes, I am seriously, deadass, on God, for real am bringing this up.”

He tried to hide the smile that dared to show on his face at the way you mocked his previous use of slang.

“Don’t get shy now, Riki. I can see you blushing.”

He quirked an eyebrow at you, clicking his teeth with his tongue before throwing the paddles into the river.

“RIKI!”

“Whoops! Looks like my bashful little fingers slipped,” he giggled, not being able to contain his laughter from the shocked expression on your face.

“Guess we’re gonna have to swim back. Come on,” he beamed, talking off his turtleneck before diving into the lake, water splashing all over your lap.

“Oh my God, Riki, you’re such an imbecile!”

“And you’re such a baby! Now come on, the water feels great, I promise!”

You watched as the water rippled around his movements.

You couldn't see anything below the dark blue river, making you feel anxious about actually jumping in.

“W-w-what if there are alligators hiding in there?”

“Pfft,” he scoffed, “French alligators? I mean, if I’m still swimming, they must have a pretty low appetite… unless… they prefer breast meat,” he winked, treading in the water.

“Gosh, you’re such a weirdo,” you whined, watching as he made his way over to the other side of the lake, marching up the rocky land.

He shook his head like a puppy, trying to get rid of the access water in his hair.

You looked away from him shyly, trying not to peek at how the white t-shirt he wore clung to his toned abs.

“Are you coming over here today, or what?” He teased, putting his hands on his hips.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, leveling your nerves before jumping in the water, leaving your favorite beret behind in the now abandoned boat.

So much for being peaceable foreigners.

After making it to Riki, which wasn’t nearly as daunting as you expected, he applauded your performance. “Brava, ____! Brava!! You successfully swam across a 30ft deep river!”

“30?!” you shivered in disbelief, thankful that he shared the rivers depth with you after you already got across.

“Relax, ____, that’s like a kiddy pool. Anyways, let’s get back to the hotel before we get sick,” he said as the chilly winds hit both your wet bodies. 

Under any other ordinary circumstances, you probably would’ve beaten the hell out of Riki for being so careless.

But it was something about the Parisian air that made you care less.

Riki phoned the chauffeur to bring you back to the resort, where he arranged a spa evening for you to be professionally pampered by French beauticians.

Meanwhile, he went to shower in the hotel room, saying that he’d meet you back at the spa when you were finished.

One of the hairdressers gave you a blow out and quick trim just to clean up your ends.

Then, conveniently after your finger nail polish finished drying, your phone beeped with a message from Hanni.

Riki tapped you on the shoulder, the scent of his sweet citrus cologne hitting your senses.

“You ready?” He asked, picking up one of the matcha macarons the spa staff gave you.

“Ready for what?”

“To eat. I know you’ve gotten all pretty, but I think it’s best we stay in since it’s dark out now.”

Did he just call you pretty?!?!

“Okay, we can hit up the French market and maybe make something for dinner," you suggested.

“Oh my gosh, great idea! We could make my mom’s gyoza recipe!”

“Oh, did she make the ones you let me try at the airport that day, too?”

“I can’t believe you still remember that," he said in shock.

“Well yeah, that was only a few days ago…”

“Hmm. I guess you just don’t seem like a stranger to me anymore,” He smiled, grabbing your hand and leading you from the resort spa.

After shopping at the market, where the prices were surprisingly affordable, you and Riki headed back to your hotel room to unpack the groceries.

“I hope you’re good at cooking,” Riki chimed, grabbing a large bowl to fill with all the French snacks you brought from the store.

“Why, exactly?”

“Because, I’m mostly gonna watch while you keep me entertained, Chef ____.”

You rolled your eyes at his words, grabbing a knife and chopping board as you started prepping the ingredients you’d need.

“Does ‘tsp’ mean tablespoon or teaspoon?” You asked, struggling to interpret his Mom’s recipe instructions.

“All I know is big spoon and little spoon,” he smirked, leaning closer over the counter.

You brushed off his flirting as you kept trying to figure out the recipe. That’s when Riki grabbed a handful of fondue flavored chips from the snack bowl, crunching them between his teeth.

“Gosh, would you stop chewing so freaking loud? I can’t think!”

“It’s not my fault you’re a babo,” he teased, poking you on the nose.

“Bet you can’t say that in French.”

“Pfft, why would I need to?”

“Because you said you speak French?”

“For the last time, I do! I’m just not a dictionary.”

“Sounds like another lame excuse, but whatever. Pass me the sesame oil… Oh, and one of those chips!”

Making the gyoza wasn’t nearly as hard as you anticipated. Though, your main struggle came with capturing the authentic flavors.

After steaming the doughy purses and tossing them in a dark chili sauce, you plated a few for Riki to try, even though you both were already stuffed from the snacks alone.

“Ugh, can you at least try them while they’re fresh?” You whined, bringing one of the saucy gyozas to Riki’s mouth with a pair of chopsticks.

He complied with a sigh, parting his lips as he hummed.

“What do you think?”

“Well, they don’t taste like my mom’s, but they’re not horrible. I’ll give it a 4/10.”

“Huh?!”

“Well, I didn’t expect you to do better than her, or even come close, so don’t feel too bad about it.”

You pouted, wrapping the remaining dumplings in plastic wrap before placing them in the hotel fridge.

“Alright, let’s freshen up and head to bed,” he suggested, wiping the kitchen counter and heading to the bathroom to wash up.

You went in after he finished, changing into your pajamas and meeting him on the kingsized bed.

“Ahh... I love Paris,” he smiled, adjusting his head on the pillow.

“Yeah. Me too, but why?”

“Because, the next time I visit, I’ll be reminded of you.”

“Aww, how cheesy,” you smiled, returning a poke to his nose.

“No, I’m serious. I’ve never had this much fun with someone before.”

“But we’ve been arguing the entire time.”

“I know, but… that’s just our way of…”

“Flirting?”

He blushed at your words, “Yea. Our way of flirting.”

You felt your own face heat up in the moment, fighting the urge to scoot closer to him on the mattress.

“So,” you began timidly, “what comes after this stage?”

“Depends,” he replied, resting his hands behind his head, “Where do you want it to go?”

“Riki…”

“What?”

“We just met—“

“That doesn’t answer my question, ____.”

You let out a breath, thinking on his words, “Hmm. I think we would make great fr-enemies.”

He giggled, “That’s it?”

“That's it. But maybe with time… we could—”

Buzz, buzz.

A notification from Riki’s phone lit up the dim hotel room. He reached for his phone, only to see a text from his friend Jake, who said he just arrived in Paris and wanted to meet up tomorrow.

“Was this planned?” You asked confused.

“No?… I don’t know why he’s here... or how he even knows I’m here.”

“Well. Looks like we better get some rest for tomorrow.”

“Ughh, but I wanted to spend our last day here together,” he pouted, rubbing his eyebrows.

“And we still can, Riki. It’ll probably be fun having your friend around, anyway.”

A moment of silence filled the air before he spoke.

“Fine. As long as you don’t mind, neither do I,” he smiled, turning off the night light before trying to get some sleep.

“Hanni. Pham. You sneaky salamander!”

"Bonjour, bestie! Turns out, Riki does have a cute and single friend. Meet Jake, my favorite Aussie boy!" She beamed, clinging onto him as if they've known each other for life.

You wondered if that's how you and Riki looked together.

"Nice to meet you, Jake," you forced a smile, shaking his hand.

"You too, Miss ____," he returned with an Australian accent that caught you off guard.

No wonder Hanni and him were already getting along so well.

"Jake-hyung, when you said you wanted to hang out at the amusement park, I didn't think you meant for a double-date," Riki said with an awkward smile, searching your face for an 'okay' sign.

"Aww, c'mon Nishi, it's not every day that you're granted with such convenient chances (😉) to hang out with friends," Jake began.

"Exactly. Let's make the most of this beautiful day, shall we?" Hanni encouraged, taking your hand in hers as you, Riki, and Jake went on to explore the park.

The four of you went on more rides than you could keep track of, ranging from ferris wheels, spinning teacups, and rollercoasters.

It was also fun watching Riki and Jake battle it out on an amusement park mini game to win a stuffed animal prize: Of course, Riki won, but you gave the plush to Hanni because you didn't feel like carrying it around.

You all planned to end the night with ice cream, but that was until Riki caught sight of a jewelry making station.

"____, we have to," Riki said in a serious tone.

You giggled, "Have to what? Make matching friendship bracelets?"

"Uh, YES!"

Hanni and Jake sat at a different table than you and Riki, hooking different charms to the silver bracelet chains provided by the staff.

You and Riki decided to make one for each other and then swap them once you finished.

"Are you guys almost done?" Jake asked, looking at the time which was running close to 7:30pm.

"Almost, I just need to make a few finishing touches," Riki smiled, adding on some beads.

Finally, you all payed for the bracelets and put them in velvet baby blue goody bags, bidding your farewells before heading back to your respective hotel rooms to pack.

"Today was so much fun," Riki exclaimed, sorting the clothes in his suitcase.

"I know, I'm already sad just thinking about how we go back to reality tomorrow."

"Yeah...but in the meantime, let's enjoy our last few hours in Paris," he smiled, closing his suitcase before putting on a French film for you both to fall asleep to.

The next morning came by faster than desired. On the flight back home, you reminisced about your fun weekend in Paris as though you might forget the moment you stopped thinking.

It was the simple things that started to effect you the most.

Riki's random Spotify playlist knitted memories with songs, faces to feelings.

You were falling hard for Riki, and the truth was, you had been since day one. It was obvious that he felt the same way about you, too.

The only thing holding you back was the fear of letting go.

The fear of letting love.

"All flight passengers, we have started our descent and will be landing shortly. Please remain seated after making sure your tray tables are in their upright positions and any other personal belongings are within your vicinity. Thank you," the pilot spoke from the head of the plane.

You and Riki were sharing a box of cream filled French cookies as you finished the last few minutes of the movie "Your Name" on his laptop.

"So you're telling me that this ends with Taki and Mitsuha not remembering each other?" You asked sadly, wishing the two characters could've had a happier ending.

"Not in this film, no. But the director mentioned something in an interview about them eventually reuniting and even getting married," Riki clarified, taking a sip from his carton of chocolate milk.

You sighed, looking out the window as the ending credits played silently in the background.

Riki tapped your shoulder, causing you to whip your head to face him.

"Here," he said, handing you the baby blue velvet sack he kept from Paris.

After making your bracelet, he said he wouldn't let you see it until y'all were in the plane. Turns out, that moment was now.

"Open it," he nearly whispered, his usual piercing eyes becoming more soft.

You took the bag in your hand, untying the string as you slid the silver bracelet in your palm. Riki didn't hesitate to fasten the hook around your wrist, a hue of pink rising to his cheeks at the sight.

You observed the rainbow heart beads and other cute charms that ran across the length of the bracelet.

One charm that stood out to you most was the shimmery blue airplane, dangling next to a cursive letter R.

The bracelet was so nice that it made you feel insecure about the one you made for him. He payed attention to so many little details, all apart of every moment that you shared together so far.

Even though the gesture was simple, you were left speechless.

"Riki, it's beautiful," you beamed, fighting the urge to hug him.

"Alright, alright, now where's mine," he teased, shaking with anticipation.

"Oh, right, I almost forgot," you giggled, reaching in your purse to hand him the velvet sack containing the bracelet you made him.

That's when a robotic voice emitted a series of beeps and tones from the ceiling speakers: a familiar chime that let you know the airplane had officially landed.

Riki was quick to grab your luggage and his, making his way to the airport base as you trailed behind him.

You knew after landing, the peaceful nature of your weekend would be bombarded with the busy world you knew best.

You still couldn't believe that you had just traveled cross-country with a complete stranger, and if given the opportunity, you wouldn't hesitate to do it again.

Riki took your hands in his just as your Uber ride pulled up outside the airport, since your usual chauffeur, Hanni, was still in Paris with her 'favorite Aussie boy.'

"I don't really know what to say, but... Paris was cool...with you, I mean," Riki admitted shyly, his usually dominant aura faltering before you.

"Yeah. Paris was cool with you, too, Riki," you smiled, stepping on your tip-toes and kissing him on the cheek.

You turned on your heel, walking towards the shiny glass doors with your polkadot suitcase clicking behind you.

Of course you looked back, and of course he was still there waiting for you to leave with a smile.

You made your way to the vehicle, loaded your things in the trunk before hopping in the backseat.

The quiet Uber driver made his way out of the parking lot while a certain thought meddled in the back of your mind: Riki and I will probably never see each other again.

Still, unlike Taki and Mitsuha, you could never forget the flirty TSA agent who stole your heart.

You looked at the bracelet on your wrist again, smiling at the recent memories that were already started to feel distant.

That's when you felt butterflies erupt in your stomach.

Buzz, buzz.

You pulled your phone from your purse, revealing a text on your screen from a number you hadn't made a contact for yet:

"Hey, it's Riki. I know you just left, but I might die if we don't hang out tomorrow. Coffee at Café Royale's? Again? Maybe?"

〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰

 ⋆｡˚ ✈︎ Thank you all so much for reading this ff! This concludes the finale for my long awaited "Flirty TSA Agent" Series. With that being said, feel free to check out my enhypen bookshelf for more fun reads!

 ⋆｡˚ ✈︎ Taglist: @fanficfactoryfoxxx @rickysblkgf @bambangan

[itsghvstfvce]

TAKE YOU BY THE HAND

pairing : jenna ortega x gn!reader

summary : the night of the met gala is reminiscent of a special night you shared with jenna

word count : 1k

warnings : none!

a/n: a short little something about jenna at the met gala while i work on the next part for 'what's in a name' <3 thank you all so much for the love you've been giving it! i hope you enjoy this oneee

You sit on your hotel bed as you admire the suit hanging in front of you.

After gaining immense success from your new film, you earned an invite to the Met Gala for the first time. The annual event is known for showcasing some of the best outfits and looks for the year, with hundreds of people tuning in to find their favourite celebrities creatively sporting different luxury brands. Although the Met Gala is known for seeing crazy, big, and loud attire, you and your stylist worked together to be on the simpler side of things for your first appearance.

But if you were being honest, being able to attend the Gala was not the sole reason for your excitement; it’s the fact that you get to attend alongside your longtime girlfriend, Jenna.

The Scream actress was ecstatic to learn that you had also been invited to attend, rambling about how proud she was and how you two should coordinate your outfits. You were on board with the idea and have been discussing with your stylists to make it work. However, Jenna said she wanted to keep her outfit a surprise until you were both ready to make your way to the museum. Even after pleading for hints and sneak peeks, she was adamant on surprising you on the evening of. Respecting her wishes, you eventually stop bugging her about it and tell her you’ll be excited to see the final result.

Your Chanel suit fits you to a tee, and your stylists and manager are stunned at your appearance. You were always attractive, that much everyone knew, but tonight you exude a different aura. You showed confidence and a fierceness that hadn’t been seen from you often, as if a hidden beast was unleashed for the first time.

“I’m sending this to your mother! She’d be so proud to see you,” your manager excitedly snaps pictures of you like they were the paparazzi. You laugh at all of their reactions, feeling your cheeks heat up due to the attention they were giving you.

“Guys come on, it’s just me in a suit!”

“Yeah, but you look so damn good in a suit! Why haven’t we put you in more suits?!” your stylist lights up with glee. Now you were expecting your future premieres and interviews to be done in suits.

After final touches, you head down to the hotel lobby. You patiently wait at the bottom of the grand staircase, conversing with your team. You’re lost in conversation, not realizing that everyone’s attention had been diverted to something else - or someone else. You follow their line of sight to the top of the stairs where you find Jenna.

Your eyes do not leave the girl for one moment. Your gaze is fixed on her as she slowly makes her way down the stairs. Jenna was beautiful, that’s a given fact, but tonight she looked phenomenal. There’s a lack of words on my part to describe how amazing she looked, yet the look on your face was enough to explain how you felt.

“Close your mouth babe, you’ll catch flies,” she places her hand on your chin to gently shut your mouth. You didn’t even realize how close she’s gotten to you, too mesmerized by her appearance. Your girlfriend giggles at your lack of speech and decides to give you a better view by taking a step back and twirling around.

“Well? What do you think?” you’re finally snapped out of your trance.

“Eh, I think I look better,” you tease. Jenna laughs and closes the distance between you again until she’s standing right in front of you, and she brushes off specks of dust and lint from your suit.

“I can’t deny that you do look amazing tonight, mi amor.”

“Says you. You’re beautiful, cara mia,” you add emphasis on the compliment and Jenna smiles as a familiar pink tint crawls onto her face. You wrap your arms around her waist, hers around the back of your neck.

“You know what this reminds me of?” you hum in response, curious to hear what the shorter girl had to say. “Prom night. The way you looked at me as I was coming down the stairs was the exact same look you gave me when I came out of my bedroom and you saw me in my prom dress.”

Your heart swells at the memory. Due to the pandemic, there was no opportunity for you to take Jenna to your prom. However, you still wanted her to have that experience so with the help of both of your families, you planned a makeshift prom in Jenna’s backyard. When you went upstairs to bring her outside, you remember staring at her from top to bottom and all the way around, ensuring that her beauty would forever be imprinted in your mind.

“Yeah, I remember. I can’t believe that was almost 3 years ago now,” you smile lovingly.

“And do you remember what I said to you when we were dancing in the backyard?”

“When you said you felt like Belle from Beauty and the Beast, and that the entire night felt magical?”

“Your memory truly amazes me, but yes. I feel that way right now and it’s how I feel every moment I’m with you,” the last part of her sentence turns into a soft whisper, loud enough for only you to hear. You scan her face to admire all that is Jenna, taking in the features of her perfectly crafted face and you lean into place a kiss on-

“Y/N! Jenna! Over here!”

A sea of flashing lights and the calls from reporters and the paparazzi catches both of your attention, and the two of you burst into a fit of giggles. Your managers tell you it’s time to head to the museum, so you take a step back from Jenna and hold out your hand for her to take. Your fingers interlace with each other in a perfect fit, raising your hands to place a sweet kiss on hers.

“Shall we, princess?” Jenna snorts at the nickname, but finds it endearing nonetheless.

“Lead the way, love.”

a/n: i know nothing about clothing so i didn't want to try and describe our outfit too much TT forgive me lmao but thanks for reading!

[ellaa-writes]

Good Dög

authors note: Part 2, part 1 here. In the same Universe as The Beast Within series. Can't wait to expanded the world more. But anyways, enjoy! :) (wow did not notice i reached 200 followers!)

summary: His favourite words include; down boy, good dog, heel, fetch and his most favourite, get 'em. Well trained, and listens good. Loyal through and through. Always striving to be the absolute best. Ready to attack at all times, always on guard. Loves discipline, either giving or receiving. Working for a criminal mastermind, lurking in the shadows. You both trying not to be seen or noticed but after one unlucky night, all you both can see are the ghosts. He invades your life, if you both like it or not.

tags: Alternative Universe. A/b/o dynamics. Female reader. Lots of trauma in this one. Mentions of a dead body. Mentions of weapons, self defense. Reader has a panic attack. Simon saves the day once again. Slightly stalking Simon. not proof read

Two weeks passed since that fateful night at the corner store. Your days were filled with nightmares, and those eyes and that voice were always there to save you. Too pull you back into the light, always waking up with your heart pounding.

The police realeased your belonging back to you, you didn't bother telling anyone. If you did they would just urge you to seek out help, to talk to someone. But you can't afford that right now, you were already overworking yourself trying to save up enough money to move out of this hell hole.

Two weeks and not a word from him, Simon. You laid awake most mornings and nights, wondering what he was doing and if he thought about you to.

You felt silly for thinking that, sure Beta and Alpha relationships were common. Hell your parents were in a Beta/Alpha relationship. But you always felt unworthy, never meeting someone that sparked your interest as much as that Alpha did.

You had a few days off, only because the law required it. But if it was up to your employer you would have been working today.

You decided to get out of your apartment, to go for a walk, to try and not thinking about the cold steel on your throat and that evil smile. Anytime it crept into your mind you would wipe it away. Shove it back down with all the other shit you refused to face.

It was a beautiful day in the city, lucky for you it was a weekend. People littered the streets, groups walking together and chatting. The restaurants had their patios open, only if you had friends you thought. You'd be out there, drinking your fancy drink, eating your fancy food and smiling and laughing. Reminiscing about the good ol' days, but you had none of that. Instead you watched from a far, wishing that one day you'd wake up in a new body, new life.

But that never got you far. You've always been a keep your head down and don't stay for long type of gal. Having been alone in this world for longer than you remember not being.

You lost your mother young, and your dad left all together. Not wanting to raise a child by himself, being a single widowed father. Instead he forgot about you and met someone else. Started a new family, one where you weren't in the picture.

Living in foster care after foster care, until your turned of age and was pushed out into this unforgiving world.

You found yourself staring at the people, laughing and enjoying their time. You were staring for too long, sometimes lost in your own world. Taking your eyes off the people out on the patio, you began casing things out.

Since the accident, you've been on edge more. Keeping a small pocket knife on you at all time, and a can of bear mace. As regular mace wouldn't take down a drugged up Alpha.

As you were looking around you noticed something, or someone. The eyes that haunted your dreams, staring at you from across the street. The same eyes and voice from the corner store.

It couldn't be, you must be imagining it. That feeling of uneasiness creeping up from spine, your brain telling you to run. So you did, you spun around and decided this was a bad idea. Leaving your apartment was stupid. Mentally beating yourself up as you sped walked down the block. Trying to get as much distance between you and those eyes.

They didn't scare you, not intentionally. But you were seeing things, they weren't real. Taking a short cut through the back alley, not wanting to waste anymore time. You were too much in your own head, speeding down the desolate alley, not noticing the fast approaching footsteps behind you.

All you felt was the hands grabbing your arm, and in an instant you were spun around. Your bear mace in hand ready to spray at the intruder. But before you could it was knocked out of your hand. Flying into the brick wall beside you.

And there he was, Simon. It was real, you did see him. "You could kill someone like that." you snapped at him. Picking up your now busted can of bear spray. Hoping you can get another one soon. "Plan on using that on anyone?" he asked. His voice just as husky as the first time you heard it. Your heart skipped a beat, holding in the breath you just took, your core getting tingly.

"Well not anymore." you huffed, shoving the broken can into your bag. "Had anymore run ins?" he asked, noticing the small knife next to the can. "No." you were shuffling on your feet. Not wanting to be here anymore. "Just precaution." you explained.

You hated the way he was looking at you, his head tilted. He was judging you, noticing things about you that even you didn't.

The tenseness in your body, the way you were constantly looking around you, how you held your bag tight to your body. Your quick movements and that look in your eyes. The one he knew so well, the same look he'd have often.

You looked like a lost doe, eyes frantic and legs wobbly. He pitied you, knowing the inner battle raging on inside of you. One that he wish he could take away.

"How have ya been holdn' up?" he asked. Stupid question he thought. He knew from just looking at you, that if a big gust of wind were to come you'd crumble like a dry leaf in autumn.

"I uhhh-" you didn't know what to say. Do you lie to him now? "I'm getting by." you replied. Knowing that didn't fully answer his question.

You were running, not psychically but mentally. Your movements becoming more frantic, your eyes wide with fear, the lost doe cornered and trying to find a way out.

Simon knew this, as he felt it often. He did the only thing he could think of, and he wasn't sure if it was even going to work. He purred, he never purred before. Not even sure if he was doing the damn thing right, but it was pure Alpha instinct. A female in stress can sore the nose, the smell permeating far. Letting everyone know, it was old basic biology, things have evolved since then.

The purr was deep and low, sounding like a bike engine off in the distance. As he slowly stepped closer to you, making sure his shoulder were laxed and his scent enclosing around you like a bubble.

You didn't know what was happening, you felt the tightness in your chest. You began struggling to breath, wanting to dive into the garbage bin and hide. To scream, cry, kick and bite. All these emotions coursing through your body, you hands shaking. Trying to grip onto your arms, hugging yourself tight. Rubbing you neck against your shoulder. Trying anything to make this feeling go away.

Simon wrapped you in his arms, pushing your head into his chest. That's when you finally heard it, the low purring coming from it. It soothed you, making you feel like a pup being cradled by its father.

He held you tight to his chest, enclosing both of you in a bubble of his scent. Blocking out all other noise and smells. His juvenile attempt at consoling you were working, you began sucking in even and deep breaths. The tightness in your chest and back relaxing, you unwrapped your arms from yourself and wrapped them around Simon.

If you were anyone else and this was any other moment he'd he ripping your limbs off. But it was you.

The nights he'd spend wide awake, thinking about you. Everytime he closed his eyes he'd see your dead lifeless body, your dead soulless eyes staring back up at him. He couldn't sleep the first time, he had to make sure you were alright. Sneaking into a vacant apartment across the street, just to make sure she was alright, he told himself.

But it was nightly, then daily. Ignoring his own work to watch night and day. Making sure nothing could or would happen to you. He didn't know what got into himself, why he had these strong feelings towards you. What made you so special.

What made you different from the rest, you haunted him night and night out. And you were alive, so why does he keep seeing your dead body everywhere he turns.

His boss noticed he'd been quiter than normal, which is saying a lot for him. A conversation he had while sitting in his bosses office one night. He use to hate the man, seeing him as enemy number one. Making it his dying mission to take him down, to take him out.

But when shit hit the fan, and Simon was sent to prison. His years of decidated and hard work went down the drain, along with his life. He was a walking reminder, the people he considered close some even close enough to be family, all cut him off. Discarding him like he was yesterday's trash.

The man across from him in the office, sitting on the stiff leather chair. The man that went by König, he was the only one that was their for him. When he was realeased from prison, he was their at the gate. Leaning up against a black sports car. Simon thought he was dead, everyone at least still thinks he is.

He gave Simon an offer, a too good to be true offer. Turning it down, vowing to never cross that line. To go over to the other side. But after finding out that no one gave a shit, that him going to prison didn't change anything. Him taking the fall and paying the price. Just to have them all act like he never existed. So he didn't.

Death by fire, he found it fitting. He felt like his whole existence was flawed, the moment his mother became knocked up with him. A bastard growing in her belly. She left him like the rest did.

But what made you so special, it was a question that he didn't know if he'd ever get an answer to.

For two whole weeks he couldn't shake you. Lying too himself that he wasn't stalking you, that when you were gone for work, that he wasn't breaking into your place. To make sure the windows were sealed and the smoker detector wasn't low on batteries. He even fixed the buzzing from your fridge, something you did notice but chalked it up to old appliances.

If he knew any better he'd say he was infatuated with you.

With you still wrapped in his arms he brought you back to your apartment. Using your key to unlock your door, carrying you into your bedroom. Setting you down and wrapping you up. "I'll be back." he told you. Leaving for only a moment, coming back with a bag of hot food.

It was late in the night when he finally left. You were tucked into bed, everything locked and secured. He didn't like the idea of leaving you alone, but he'd be right cross the street. Having rented out the space after squatting in it for a few days. Paying for two rents wasn't ideal, but in his mind it was only tempory.

You guys talked for hours, you telling him about your past in foster care. How you saved up everything you could to move here and get this place. Only for you to now do the same so you could get out.

You told him about your dream to live out on the country side, to live a small village. To have a farm, yellow house and maybe a few pups running around. But how that dream seemed to slip away faster and faster everyday.

As he settled into postion, on the weathered chair at the window. Watching people flow in and out of the street below. His mind asked the same question it always did when he found himself in this spot. Why you? What was so special about you. But now he also thought about how he wanted to give you, your dream.

The yellow house, the farm to look after and of course the one thing he never would have wanted or thought of wanting....pups.

[saythenametotheworld]

Maybe If | l.mk

Genre: exes baggage; angst; smut Pairing: Mark Lee x Female Reader Synopsis: An unprompted college reunion for a friend's wedding had you looking back on the most beautiful relationship you ever had with the most breathtaking boy you've ever known—Mark Lee. Warning: angst, mentions of physical and emotional abuse, mentions of alcoholism, explicit sexual content (18+) Notes: 21k words, song prompt was Maybe If by BIBI

"He'll be there for sure." You've lost count of the number of times Nadine said that today. "Will you be fine?"

Even the question about your well-being has been engraved in your mind for days now because she's asked about it each time she remembers Mark Lee being present at your friend's wedding.

"You know, Nadine, it almost sounds like you're the one who dated Mark Lee," Stan commented, giving her a quick glance at the backseat. "Shut up about it already. I'm sure she knows Mark will be there."

"I'm just worried about her. I know it's been a while but what happened between them was intense, seeing how they chose to cut contacts completely instead of being friends. What if they end up fighting?"

"Mark won't fight her," Stan chuckled, glancing at you. "He would never fight her."

You kept your eyes outside the car window, counting the minutes before you arrived at your hometown. You're not thinking about Mark Lee-not even about the messy state you left him in. You were thinking about the town you grew up in; everything you hated and loved about it, everyone you grew up knowing, and everyone you dreaded seeing. It was the one place you wished you never had to return to, the one place that gave you so much to love and even more to hate.

When you left for better opportunities in a different place, you vowed you would never come back. There's nothing for you to go back to anyway, just a miserable old city where you lived a miserable life trying to deal with a miserable old couple. They even told you to never come back after draining you dry of the money that you spent half of your life saving. You have no fond memory of your aunt and uncle. Even the mere mention of their names angers you. The living condition wasn't any better, if anything, you worked your ass off to feed the people who stole from you. You hated it there and you hate it till now.

The one good thing about the place was your relationships outside the house. Reminiscing about your friends should make you smile, but even that became something to hate after you left and never came back.

"Welcome home, guys!" Stan cheered as you entered the downtown area of the small city.

Nothing much has changed, except for a few old establishments you used to work at which now bore different names. The road was definitely better. Streetlights and traffic signs were updated. The trees that once lined the sidewalk are now gone. But overall, the vibe still feels the same and you still haven't changed your mind about not coming back here. If it wasn't for Dianne asking you to be one of her bridesmaids, you wouldn't even consider taking a peek.

"We'll see you tomorrow, okay?" said Nadine, hugging you before you got out of the car.

You'll be staying at the bride's house for the rest of the week to help with the preparations. She said she'll burn every motel in town if you ever so much as consider staying in one instead of accepting her offer to accommodate you. You figured she wouldn't be able to do it for real but the way she was so passionate about it made you say 'yes' to crashing at her place.

"My dearest!" Dianne greeted as soon as she opened the door of her house. You hugged by the doorstep, squeezing the soul out of each other until someone told you to take your dramatic reunion back inside the house.

"Congratulations, Dianne. I'm happy for you and also, thank you for having me as one of your bridesmaids," you told her while you sat around the living room with a few other girls that you were introduced to as her entourage.

"Of course, you have to be my bridesmaid. You and I go way back and did you forget that it was you who set me up with my fiancée?"

You chuckled, nodding as you were reminded of the blind date project that you worked so hard to carry out just so Dianne could have her dinner date with the handsome bookshop owner that she had a crush on. It's been six years since then but they're still together. You chatted for a while, discussing the few remaining things that still need to be done for the wedding. When the doorbell rang, Dianne excused herself to welcome her other guests. You were talking to Amanda, Dianne's little sister so you weren't paying attention to the door. Dianne approached you as soon as the guest came in and spoke in a serious tone.

"I hope you don't mind that Mark is here," she said quietly, glancing briefly at the group of men who just arrived. "He's one of Owen's groomsmen."

"No, not at all!" you replied, waving your hands briskly. "It's fine. It's your wedding. Don't worry about me."

"Are you sure? I mean, I know the breakup was awful but it means a lot to me and Owen to have both of you here with us."

You gave her a reassuring smile and a pat on the shoulder. "I know. It's okay, really. This whole thing is about you and Owen. You don't have to worry about us."

"Y/N!" Owen called when he spotted you. You felt a little nervous, knowing your presence had been announced to the whole house and Mark now knows you're here too.

"Owen! Hi!" you greeted, masking your jitters with a jovial attitude. "How are you?"

"I've been great. I'm getting hitched!" he cheered, showing you the ring on Dianne's finger. "How are you? Thanks for coming. We really appreciate it."

"I'm fine. Thanks for having me," you smiled, and then the laughter from the doorway caught your attention.

Seeing Mark after five years felt like a jolt to your heart. The boyish charm you remembered had evolved into something more mature, more refined, and undeniably attractive. His shorter hair suited him, accentuating his handsome features. He obviously found a new style, like you did. It struck you how time had changed both of you, shaping your lives in different directions. Other than that, the girl clinging to his arm is the only thing you don't recognize about him.

Dianne pulled you aside, far from anyone's earshot. "That's Tris, Owen's cousin. She's one of my bridesmaids."

"Yeah, we don't like her," Amanda interjected.

"Mandy!" Dianne scolded but the younger one just raised an eyebrow.

"What? It's true."

Dianne tutted at her before turning to you. "They're not dating and she's just here for the wedding but I think she likes Mark. They've been hanging out ever since she got here which was a few days ago."

You laughed softly, holding her arm. "Thanks, Di, but I don't need to know what Mark's been up to. I'm sure he took good care of himself."

"Right. Sorry. I just had to tell you in case you assume he's dating her."

"Mark won't," Amanda smirked, giving Tris the side eye.

"You don't even know Mark that well."

"Yeah, but he's a nice guy. Guys like Mark don't date skanky spoiled brats."

"Mandy! Don't call people names!"

"Whatever, I don't like her."

You watched Amanda leave the room and escape upstairs, slightly amazed at how much she's grown. When you first met her, she was just twelve years old but she was already chatty. Now she's grown and resembled Dianne a lot but their attitudes are complete opposites.

Mark's eyes fluttered in your direction, catching your gaze before you could look away. He quickly scanned you, then returned to his conversation on the other side of the room. You weren't expecting Mark to be all nice and chatty the moment you met again, but you hoped for something more civil than this. You were ready to do just that, so why is he being hostile?

Why else? You broke his heart, dumbass.

In the morning, you went to a boutique for dress-fitting. The other bridesmaids were here before you so you were the only one left to get your measurements and have the dress adjusted. It was a nice velvety dress with a tiny strap that hugged your body’s figure most exquisitely. Dianne said it was Nadine’s input and everyone agreed that it looked elegant with the right amount of sexy.

“And skin,” Nadine added, running her fingers from your collarbone to your shoulder. She pointed to the slit that goes right up your mid-thigh. “And thigh too.”

“Yeah. I can see the thought process in this,” you ridiculed, although you did like the dress. You just had to point out Nadine’s inclination to revealing clothes.

You had brunch while catching up on a lot of things. You talked mostly about the wedding and how the whole proposal happened. After that, you had a few hours to yourself before Owen and the others came to pick you up for the rehearsals. You were excited to see Timmy again and to find out that he is the wedding planner for this.

“World-class event organizer, coming through,” he posed, strutting in front of you. You giggled, enjoying his display.

“You’re a local event organizer, Timmy,” Stan teased as he approached your circle and stood next to you.

“The best there is!” Timmy insisted. “And it’s only for now.”

Rehearsals for the entourage began, and you were visibly shocked to be paired with Mark. He seemed impassive at first, but as you started walking the aisle together, you saw how much it affected him. He wouldn't let you hold him, and while you were fine with that, Timmy was frustrated.

“Come on, Mark. It’s just a walk. It’s forty-five seconds at best!” Timmy pleaded, but Mark bristled.

“I don’t want anyone touching me, Timmy. How hard is that?”

“It’s fine, Timmy. I’m sure no one will notice,” you reassured, hoping to ease the tension. Reluctantly, Timmy gave in and let Mark have his way.

The practice continued with Mark still apprehensive. Now that the arm hold was out of the way, he found another reason to show his disdain, missing the cue repeatedly. After a few tries, Timmy decided to ignore it and proceeded with the practice.

“Mark is being unreasonable, seriously,” Timmy chided as the three of you drove to grab something to eat.

“You can’t blame him. He hates my guts. Now he’s stuck with me,” you defended, and Nadine agreed.

“That much is still considered a display of patience. If it were me, I’d freak,” Nadine added.

Timmy sighed. “Honey, I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. Dianne and Owen specifically asked for this. I’m just doing what I’m paid to do and what my friends asked of me.”

“And Mark’s not your friend?” Nadine taunted, earning a glare from Timmy.

“He is. But this wedding isn’t about him.” Timmy glanced at you in the backseat. “It’s not about the two of you.”

You knew that, of course. That’s why you were trying to be civil. He’s the one with the problem, and you don’t blame him at all.

The car stopped in front of a diner that looked eerily familiar. As you stepped out, Timmy mentioned it was the diner you used to work at in college. The owner and the name had changed, but everything inside, except the paint, remained the same. The interior and furniture reminded you of the time you spent waiting tables and cleaning this place.

It was no surprise that you’d attend the local college right after high school. You tried to apply to other schools and although you met the grade requirements, your extra-curriculars did not. The university was in the downtown area of the city, several miles from your house. You remember the last time you went downtown; it was when you had just moved in with your aunt and she was still nice to you. She'd take you once a week for food or ice cream, but she stopped that a long time ago, and now you barely remembered what it looked like.

For the last two years, you were back and forth from your house to your school; a public high school in the east side of the city. The downtown area may be unfamiliar to you but that didn't stop you from landing a job at a diner close to your local university. On your first day, the manager greeted you warmly. After a quick rundown of your tasks, you began immediately.

It was past 2 a.m. when a group of friends came into the diner. There were barely any customers except for a middle-aged guy drinking beer by the counter and watching late-night news. Tina, your coworker, was mopping the floor when the group arrived, and one of the guys accidentally kicked the bucket, spilling water all over the floor.

"Shit, sorry!" one of the guys muttered, picking up the bucket and looking down at the mess he made with panic in his eyes.

"Damn it, Mark. Watch where you're going!"

That was the first time you met Mark. Alerted by the commotion, you peered over the counter to see what was going on. You saw him fumble with his apologies to Tina, who ended up telling him it was her fault for putting the bucket right by the door.

Tina rounded back to the kitchen to grab something for the spilled mess. "This is not the meet-cute way I was expecting to meet Mark Lee."

"Mark Lee?" you repeated, glancing at her as she opened the cabinet of cleaning materials.

"The guy who spilled my bucket," she pouted, fake sobbing before going back outside. “I had a crush on him in high school.”

You hadn't meant to but there was nothing else to do while you were wiping glasses dry so you observed his group. They came from a party, judging by the way some of them were groggy and others looked high. Mark wasn't. He seemed completely sober and less sweaty, laughing along with his friends. They ordered and since you were on dishwashing duty, you never had to interact with them.

You had only four hours of sleep before the first day of university. With your scholarship, you were given a dorm and a 75% discount on your tuition. The conditions were demanding, but you were confident you could meet them. You finished high school at the top of your class, and you were determined to keep your scholarship until graduation. Failing wasn't an option; struggling to keep your grades high was far better than returning to your aunt's house.

"Can I help you?" a senior approached as you looked around the busy school grounds.

There wouldn't be any actual classes today since it was the first day. Clubs and student groups had set up booths for new students and transfers to sign up. There was also a mini-concert planned for tonight, which you found out about from the huge banners at the entrance.

"No, I'm good, thanks," you said, giving him a small smile.

"Aren't you Y/N?"

"Yes. How did you know?"

He smiled and shook your hand enthusiastically. "I'm Spencer, the student body president. You aced the scholarship exam, so everyone who cares about it knows who you are."

"Oh," you muttered, pulling your hand back when he wouldn't stop shaking it. Spencer seemed genuinely excited to meet you. He also seemed like the overly passionate, overachieving type.

"Sorry," he grinned. "By the way, would you be interested in signing up for the freshman representative elections?"

"Thanks, but I'll have to pass. I'm sure you'll find other suitable candidates." You turned to leave but he blocked your way.

"That's too bad, but if you change your mind, the student council office is right next to the Arts and Sciences building."

"Sure. I'll remember that. Excuse me," you said, walking past him quickly so he wouldn't block you again. As you did, a guy bumped into you so hard that you fell to the ground.

"Y/N!" Spencer helped you up. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, thanks," you muttered, dusting yourself off. You looked at the guy who had bumped into you. He was on the ground too, struggling to get up.

"Mark!" someone called, rushing to help him. "Seriously, dude? Do you ever watch where you're going?"

Mark scoffed. "How do you know it was my fault?"

The other guy helped him up while you watched, recognizing him. Mark Lee—the guy Tina had a crush on.

"Because you're you, dumbass," the other guy chided. Mark looked at you, tilting his head and scratching his neck shyly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't see you. I was running away from someone," he explained before clenching his fist and showing it to the guy who helped him up. "Are you okay?"

"Fine."

"You guys need to watch where you're going!" Spencer scolded them while you took the chance to escape through the crowds.

You found yourself in the Arts and Sciences building, walking down the halls to locate your classrooms. There wouldn’t be any classes today, but you wanted to memorize their locations to avoid wasting time tomorrow.

"Hey! I didn't catch your name," said someone, stopping you by holding your elbow. You glanced down at his hand on your arm, prompting him to let go. "Sorry. I'm Mark, by the way."

"I don't see why this is necessary," you replied. You didn’t mean to be unfriendly, but you genuinely thought introductions were unnecessary. The collision was an accident, and you were pretty sure you wouldn’t be making friends with him. You were you, and Mark seemed to be on a completely different wavelength.

"Well, if I'm gonna be seeing you around, I think this is necessary," he insisted, smiling with his eyes focused on your face, not even blinking.

You told him your name, deciding it was easier to just give him what he wanted so he’d leave you alone.

"Nice to meet you," he said, offering his hand for a shake. You took it, shaking it once.

"Well then," you said before walking away.

"See you in class!" he called out, but you didn’t look back.

You didn’t think about Mark again for the rest of the day. But he appeared at your workplace after midnight, peering over the counter at you.

"Can I help you?"

"What time do you get off work?" he asked directly, skipping any small talk.

"None of your business. What can I get you?"

"There's a party at school. Why are you here?"

"Again, sir, it's none of your business. Is there anything you want to eat?"

"Can I pick you up after your shift?"

You exhaled sharply, looking around to see if anyone could substitute for you at the counter. Everyone was busy, so you had to deal with Mark yourself.

"What are you doing in my workplace?"

Mark grinned, pleased to finally get a reaction from you. "Stalking you."

You raised an eyebrow at him, prompting him to laugh.

"No, not really. I'm not stalking you. I'm a regular here."

Your eyebrow remained raised, and you crossed your arms.

He swallowed nervously. "Can—can I get a cola with that burger?" he asked, his voice breaking as he pointed at the menu on the wall.

You punched in his order on the register. "That will be $4.60."

Mark was persistent and patient. You came to know that after he continuously pursued you despite your indifference. He consistently went to your workplace. Sometimes he'd try his luck with a little flirting. Most times he'd just be there, quietly eating his food and taking too long to leave. At one point in the middle of the semester, he started studying there too. Another thing that worked in his favor was your classes. You're both Arts students, and you're both majoring in Arts History so you see him in most of your classes. He always shared your notes and asked you about assignments and stuff. He also tried to pair up with you each time you were given group work.

You mostly just went with the flow. You stopped getting bothered by it when you realized that your snide attitude wouldn't push him away. The attention you gave him was limited to what was required of you by your schoolwork. And you ignored his flirting and his random invitations for a date or coffee, even if he reduced the venue to the university food court. The one factor of his endless chase that you least expected was his friends.

"Yo, it's Mark's muse!" said Stan as soon as she walked into the diner.

Your ears twitched after being called that so you emphasized your name. "Welcome to our diner! My name is Y/n. What can I get for you?"

"Oh, so that's your name? It's cute, it suits you. I'm Stan." Stan beamed. He looked like a typical jock so you were expecting him to act like one but he seemed genuinely glad to know you.

"Yeah, I wonder why Mark always kept it to himself like some obsessed psycho," said the girl he was with. She smiled at you and offered her hand. "My name is Nadine. Nice to meet you, Y/n."

"Hi," you greeted timidly, returning her smile.

"Mark's crazy for you and I can see why," said the third guy whose every move, tone, and clothing tell you he's queer. "I'm Timmy. Not Tim, Timmy."

You found yourself surrounded by Mark and his circle of friends. They were nice, and it surprised you because they looked like the typical rich kids from the west side of the city: snobby, bratty, and mean for no reason. But they were actually good company, balancing academics and social life perfectly. They were popular and smart, and you felt a little bad for having prejudices against them. Although you liked to keep to yourself, you didn’t discourage their presence. You let them join you at the food court when you were alone. You let them drag you to school events and even let them add you to their noisy group chatroom. It never occurred to you at the time that you were making friends, something you never saw yourself doing. You felt so accepted and free with them. And it was safe to say your feelings started growing towards Mark the moment his friends came into the picture because that was when you got to know him properly.

"Mark! Come on, man! You're just gonna walk down the aisle. Why do you keep messing up?" Timmy scolded for the nth time today.

"Sorry," Mark said half-heartedly.

"What's wrong?" Dianne peered from outside the church.

"Mark keeps missing the timing," Amanda reported.

"Sorry, Di. Let's try again, Tims. I'll get it right this time."

"No. This time, y/n will hold you and you won't complain." Timmy linked your arms together and told everyone to go back out. It was the second day of rehearsals but Mark was still keeping the attitude. You were getting annoyed by it, but you chose not to intervene in case he lashed out at you. Not that you’d hate for that to happen, in fact, that would be better than making everyone walk on eggshells around the two of you.

On Timmy’s cue, the music started playing again. You huffed beside Mark, frustrated by the amount of time you had to go back from the top and hyper-aware of your linked arms.

"Stop it," you chided in a low voice.

Mark glared at you, but he kept his voice low. "Stop what?"

"Stop messing up! Why do you keep doing that?" you hissed and he scoffed.

"Because you're annoying, that's why," he spat, giving you a quick head-to-foot scan.

"Mark! In 3!" Spencer shouted and you both diverted your attention to him. You were dumbfounded but you didn't miss the cue and you both walked in together.

The practice ended after another hour and you all gathered back to Dianne's house for dinner. While everyone was busy with conversations, you couldn't help but notice the way Mark was glaring at you from across the table. He's not even hiding it anymore. At first, he just refused to interact with you but now he's downright showing everyone his disdain for you.

"Y/n!" Timmy cheered, walking to your seat to wrap his arms around you. "It's been so long, how have you been?"

"Yeah! You look great! Tell us what you've been up to in the last few years."

You chuckled timidly, embarrassed because of the sudden shower of attention. "I'm well, thanks. I’m a professor."

"She's an Art professor at NYU," Stan added.

"Really? Didn't you move to New York for NYU?"

"Yeah. I got lucky."

You glanced over at Mark who now have his eyes somewhere else.

"Are you seeing anyone?"

"What?" you blurted, surprised by the shift of topic.

"Boyfriend?"

You eyed Mark and found him still looking uninterested. "Well, I..."

"No, she's not. She hasn't dated anyone since she left the city."

Timmy scoffed at Stan. "Are you here as her representative? Why are you answering for her?"

"Because she's shy! And was I wrong, y/n? Didn't you say you haven't dated anyone since you and Mark—"

Stan was cut off when Nadine shoved a piece of bread in his mouth. "You're so skinny. You should eat some more!"

You saw Mark stand up and walk away, leaving the entire table in an awkward silence. Stan finally removed the bread from his mouth.

"Was that my fault?"

Everyone glared at him so he just flattened his lips and did a zipping gesture over his mouth.

It was Christmas when you started dating Mark. He took you to see a Christmas movie downtown but it was so boring so you just kept making funny remarks about it. You had been giggling and goofing around so much that you got kicked out of the cinema. You're not sorry though, it was an awful movie. But then you left your beanie inside the cinema and you tried to get it back only for the security guard to kick you out and threaten to call the cops on you.

"Ah, have I given you my Christmas gift yet?" Mark asked as he fitted his beanie on your head.

"You got me a Christmas gift?"

"Of course. That's the point of Christmas."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "I'm pretty sure it's Jesus' birthday."

"Maybe, but if you look further into history, you'll find that yuletide traditions were already around even before Jesus' time."

"Okay, smartass," you scoffed, tucking your hands in your jacket.

"You didn't know that? You would know that if you paid attention in class, y/n!"

You punched his chest. "Shut up. Don't use my lines on me."

Mark laughed, rubbing the part of his chest that you hit. "So, I have a gift."

"Okay, where is it?"

"Promise me you'll accept it?"

You flattened your lips. Mark has a tendency to go over the top with things and you're starting to worry that he might have bought you an expensive gift.

"It depends."

"On what?"

"On whether you spent hundreds on it."

Mark's eyes lit up. "Just 3 dollars and 42 hours."

Your brows creased. "Did you make me a Christmas sweater?"

"Yes. The ugliest one ever," he grinned before taking out a small box from the pocket of his jacket.

You found a diner to stop in and order food. Since it was Christmas, they gave you free eggnogs and candy canes.

"What are you waiting for? Open it!"

"Is it for me or for you?" you jeered.

"For you."

"Then I'll open it when I want to."

Mark whined. "Please open it? I want to see you open it."

You rolled your eyes at him as you were sipping on your drink. "Fine."

Taking the gift out, you carefully tore open the wrapping and opened the box next. You first thought it wasn't really a sweater since the box was too small, but you were surprised that it was in fact, a knitted sweater. A miniature one dangling on a keyring chain. It has a crooked letter M on the shirt that makes you grin.

"Did you make this?"

"I know it's ugly, but I made it with love. I even have mine here." He showed you his car keys which the sweater keyring is now holding. That sweater has your initial on it.

"But why is mine M?"

"M for Mark," he replied without missing a beat. You grimaced so he laughed. "You already accepted it. No backsies."

You shrugged and took out your own set of keys from your purse. You placed it on the table and fished your phone then started attaching the keyring in your phone case.

"Those are for the keys!"

"It's mine, I do what I want with it."

"Why your phone though?"

You smile after you're done with the task and let it dangle from your phone. "So that everyone will see it and ask why I have an ugly sweater as a phone accessory."

Mark laughed at that and you watched him for a while, taking in his features; the pretty curve of his eyes, his arched eyebrows, his supple skin, and the way his adorable set of teeth showed when he smiled. You stared and realized that he was the most breathtaking man you had ever met. Not because he's the most handsome or the most good-looking, but rather because he's the one person in this place that made you see the sliver of beauty that it possessed. He made you see that this place is not completely miserable. He made you realize that love can bloom even in a place where you never imagined it could survive.

"And when they do ask me that," you added after a while, making Mark pause to listen. "I'll tell them my boyfriend made it for me."

You saw how Mark's face went from goofy to surprised to delighted in a matter of seconds. He stood up from his seat across you and swiftly pulled you up for a hug. You hugged him back because you realized you were right all along, Mark doesn't only look warm, he is warm. His embrace, his breath, and the way he makes your heart feel. Mark is the warmth that you yearned for in your cold miserable world.

"Are you my girlfriend?"

"Yes."

"If I kiss you, will that be okay?"

"Yes."

And so, Mark did. He scooped your face and you never thought he could get any warmer than he already was but there he was, surprising you again.

"You think Mark's pissed?" Dianne asked worriedly when you saw each other at the breakfast table the next morning. She was asking you but you just shrugged. "He never came back last night," she added, as if you don't already know that.

"I'm sure he's fine. Probably just a little under the weather. I heard he had flu a few days ago and just got better," Amanda concluded but that didn't seem to convince Dianne.

"I'm sorry, y/n. We shouldn't have forced the two of you together. It was mainly my idea and Timmy just agreed because he said the thought behind it was beautiful."

"It's okay," you smiled, squeezing her hand affectionately. "Mark just has his issues right now. You know how he is; he won't let this ruin anything in the slightest."

"I hope so," Dianne sighed. "I'm starting to consider changing things up. I know it's about us but I also don't want anyone to feel uncomfortable during the whole thing."

Amanda tapped on your elbow so you glanced at her. "What did go wrong with you two?"

"Mandy!" Dianne chided but you just smiled at her, telling her it was alright.

Everything was well between you and Mark. He was a great boyfriend, just like you imagined he'd be. He was consistent and patient, and he never failed to show you his affection in plenty of ways.

He would offer to help you study, share his notes with you, and help you when you're struggling with any of your classes. He randomly took you to where there's good food and he also showed you beautiful places around the city. He was patient with you and never forced you into anything without your consent. You were just happy, utterly happy each time you were with him. In exchange, you gave him your time, your affection, and your undivided attention. You encouraged him when he was down and insecure. You encouraged his dreams and showed him that he is capable of doing anything as long as he puts his mind to it. Your relationship was a happy one, catering to each other with utmost care and living in the moment while reminding each other of your love.

Mark was content, you were happy. Your relationship had no problems. The problem was you. While Mark bore his whole entire being for you to see and love, you only shared your best side. You showed him your intelligence, your wit, your beauty, and your kindness. But you never showed him your frustrations, your struggles, your darkness, and your pain. You told him your dreams and aspirations but you never told him the things that motivated these dreams. While Mark showed you the good and the bad, you gave him the good and left it at that.

"Good for you! You finally found your way home!" your aunt said sarcastically when she opened the door for you.

"Are you drunk?" you asked despite not caring at all. You walked past her into your bedroom to take some of the stuff that you'd be needing for school.

"You look good. Is the university treating you well? I heard you earned a scholarship," she asked as she trailed behind you.

You opened your bedroom and saw the messy state it was in. It was clean when you left it but it looks like someone had been living in it.

"Did you go through my stuff?"

"Why would I do that? It's not like you leave anything valuable when you go out," she spat, leaning on the doorway.

You searched through your desk for your files and tucked them safely inside your bag. Then you remembered you needed a few clothing so you went through your closet.

"So how was school? Do they give you a stipend for your scholarship?" she pressed on and you couldn't help huffing when you recognized where the conversation was going.

"They don't. I get a 75% discount on tuition. I still need to pay for the remaining 25," you explained begrudgingly, groaning when you couldn't find the jacket you were looking for. You looked elsewhere and found it on the floor by the hamper. "Have you been wearing my clothes?" you asked but your aunt just shrugged.

"Why would I wear your clothes? They're too big for me."

"That's because you're so thin. I told you to eat properly. But look at you!" you chided, huffing again. "You've been drinking again! It's 9 in the morning! You told your rehab officer that you'd stop!"

Your aunt might have been cruel but she was still your mother's sister. You wanted to hate her to the point of abandoning her, but she looks so much like your mom that you can't even ignore her.

"Stop nagging me and just give me money for food! How will I eat when I have nothing for food?" she hollered back at you.

You decided to ignore her and put your dirty clothes back into the hamper. That was when you saw a few pieces of used condoms right by the basket.

"Gross. What's this?"

"Oh, that's not mine. It's Greg's."

You scowled. "Who's Greg?"

"The one renting your room."

Your jaw dropped. "You rented out my room?"

"You didn't come home and the room was vacant. We needed money because you haven't given us any for the past few months."

"Damn it, Auntie!" you complained, stomping on the floor.

You hurriedly grabbed your other stuff and found a bag to stash them in. Everything important, you stuffed in your luggage and brought it out of the room.

"Where are you going with all that?"

"I'm going back to the dorms. I'll be living there until I finish college anyway."

You dragged it all the way outside the house. Taking your purse out, you gave your aunt a few 20s and told her to stop drinking and buy some decent food. She didn't even thank you and proceeded to tell you that they had no running water because it had been cut off.

"Tell your asshole husband to work! I'm not your piggy bank!"

"What did you say about me?"

You spun when you heard your uncle's voice from behind you. He looked drunk already but he was carrying a bag of alcohol.

"You bitch, what were you saying about me?" he repeated, walking closer so you were face to face with him.

You glared at him, not even scared of his taunting. "I said you're an assho—"

You were cut off by a sudden pain in your shoulder, making you fall onto the ground. You didn't notice the empty bottle he was holding in his right hand that he used to hit you.

"You have the nerve to talk like that after I let you live in my house! You ungrateful bitch!" He raised his hand to hit you again but you kicked his shin. You stood up quickly and hit him with your purse. You hit his head and then his back and again and again until he was on the ground. Your aunt rushed to him so you stopped, kicking the bag of alcohol bottles and spitting on it before you walked away with your stuff. You are never going back there.

For years, he verbally and physically abused you, hitting you when you couldn't give him money and hitting you again when you talked back to him. You will never stop talking back to him, you have the right to do so after they bled you dry of your parents' money. They even went through your college fund and didn't leave a single penny for you. And when you started working, they continued to milk you for the money you earned through your hard work. You were the only one keeping that house running but each time you tried to make things work, they go back to their old ways. If it wasn't for you being a minor, you would have left a long time ago. Now you're a legal adult and you won't stand up for it anymore. Once you finish college, you will leave this place and never come back.

"Hi, you're y/n, right?"

You looked up at the pretty lady who approached you outside the library. "Yes. Can I help you?"

She smiled and offered her hand for a shake. "My name is Dianne. I was thinking of offering you a part time job, if you want it."

"What makes you think I need it?" Your response was a little harsh but Dianne understood that it may have sounded like she was looking down at your financial status.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. The library is hiring new junior librarians this semester. It's exclusive to scholars and it has a grade requirement. I was thinking of offering you a spot."

"Oh, I heard about it," you told her, warming up a little.

"Yeah. You see, no one applied yet. A handful did but they did not meet the grade requirement. It's a school foundation effort so having good grades is really important because you'll be getting paid for the job."

"I'll try it out."

"Great. You can apply inside," she said,

guiding you into the library.

You filled out a form and Dianne asked you to wait while they check your grades. The waiting didn't take long and she told you you got the job. You had no class left for the day and you have exactly five hours before your shift at the diner starts so you got started right away on a 4-hour library duty.

The work wasn't hard. You will need to sort books, handle returns, do an inventory every few weeks, and update the portal for every new book. So far it was only you and Dianne on the junior librarian team because as she mentioned, no one else applied for it. Dianne was a senior Linguistics student and she seemed nice.

"I've been a librarian since I was a freshman. My friends have been calling me one too. Sometimes they joke that I smell like books."

You chuckled quietly. She was chatting you up while she was showing you the stock room. That was when your phone started ringing.

"Who is it?" she asked inquisitively.

"My boyfriend," you replied, eyeing his name on the screen.

"Hmmh, good for you that you have a boyfriend. I think this library is the reason why I don't have one," she sighed, leaving you alone to answer the call.

You told Mark where you were and he said he'd be there soon so you finished up with the library work. When you came out, you found Mark in the lounge and he waved at you. This wasn't new because you always hung out with him at the library. But seeing your librarian vest made him laugh quietly. You told him to behave while you do your job. You've been tasked to put the returned books back on their shelves and Mark helped you push the cart.

"You're a librarian now?" he teased while you were looking for a specific shelf.

"I am."

"Why?"

"Because I am. It's my dream," you joked and he laughed so you shushed him.

"Sorry. How did this happen?"

"They were hiring junior librarians."

"And you signed up because your dream was to be one?"

"Yes. And I get paid to do it," you chimed.

"Sounds like a good deal,” he chuckled heartily, knowing you didn’t mean it.

You were halfway through the tall stack of books and didn't notice that you'd gone further into the back part of the library until Mark pulled you aside.

"Why? What's wrong?" you asked, thinking he was running from something. Mark looked around and peeked outside the corner you were hiding in before he smiled at you. You sighed upon realizing that he was trying to be alone with you. "Really? In the library?"

Mark shrugged. "Why? I'm sure we're not the only ones doing it."

"Yes, but right now, I'm a librarian. I should be discouraging this rather than doing it myself."

"Two minutes?" he pleaded.

"Mark," you threatened.

"One?"

"We have time later," you insisted but he pouted.

"Thirty seconds?" was his last bargain.

You huffed before you pulled the collar of his shirt and kissed him. He kissed you right back, holding your waist firmly and even closing his eyes. You might have done it begrudgingly, but you gotta admit how great it was to be kissing Mark. Still, you kept count of the time he bargained for, and right as he was starting to feel up your ass, you pushed him back.

"Your thirty seconds is up."

"Aw," he whined but you were already leaving the nook. He grabbed your shoulder and you winced in pain because he gripped the exact spot where your uncle had hit you. "Oh, shit, sorry! What happened?"

He was quick to push the sleeve of your shirt up and you couldn't even stop him. The bruise was dark and purple and his eyes almost popped out of their sockets at the sight of it.

"What the hell happened?" he hollered so you covered his mouth and shushed him, looking around the library for anyone you disturbed. You were at the farthest corner though so no one saw you.

"Just some accident at work," you lied through gritted teeth. "Be quiet!"

"You're so clumsy!" he chided softly, kissing the spot tenderly.

"Really? Coming from you?"

The next day, you arrived at the library and were welcomed by Mark Lee, the new junior librarian.

"No way. You're not a scholar. You don't even need the salary," you chided, grimacing at him.

"Well, his grades were good and they're consistent. The scholarship part was a big deal but since were short-staffed, the Head Librarian just agreed to take him in," Dianne explained. "Anyway, I already showed you how to sort these right? Get started on it. Mark, be a dear and help your girlfriend. Take these to the stock room."

You looked down the box of newly purchased books for the library and then to Mark who was smiling when he picked them up and loaded them one by one on the cart.

"Also, don't hook up there. I mean, no one will find out that you did but don't do it! It's unsanitary." Dianne teased so you shushed her.

"Dianne! Gross!"

She was giggling when you left for the stock room. Mark was walking snuggly close to you so you took a step away. But then he came close again so you just let him do it until you reached the stock room.

"Dianne is very nice," he commented while he opened the boxes.

"Yeah, and she's very pretty too."

"I can see that," Mark agreed.

"Right? That's why I was wondering why she's single."

"She's single?"

"She is. She says it's because she's a boring librarian, but I'm pretty sure I noticed a few guys checking her out yesterday. They're even pretending to read."

Mark chuckled. "I think it's because she's pretty intimidating."

"Pretty and intimidating, " you corrected and you both laughed.

"I know someone who likes her. And I was thinking of setting them up. Remember Owen? From the bookshop downtown."

"Yeah, he seems nice."

"What do you think?"

You shook your head, placing the books you've finished counting on a separate box, and then you walked towards Mark. "I think we shouldn't meddle with other people's business."

"I agree," he replied, lips curving into a smile when you didn't stop coming closer. You gave him a coy smile as you placed a hand on his abdomen, firmly pressing on the muscles beneath his shirt. Mark's breathing hitched but he steadied it again. "And I agree with that. Keep going. I will keep agreeing," he declared, nodding his head encouragingly.

You grabbed the tape dispenser from behind him and immediately moved back to your seat in front of the table.

"What will you keep agreeing on, Mark Lee?" you asked innocently as you pulled the tape out to close the box of books.

"Hey, no fair!"

You just laughed when he went behind you and hugged your sitting figure. He even stomped his feet in a tantrum.

"What? You're so naughty. We're literally in school."

He lifted his head from your neck and looked sideways at you. "How about when we're outside school?"

"I don't know. What do you mean by that question anyway?"

"Babe!" he whined again and you just laughed. "Stop teasing me! You're so mean!"

After putting the books in the records, you spent a few more minutes in the stock room making out with Mark to appease him. He didn't ask for anything much, content with what you were willing to give him. He was even grinning like a fool when you left the stock room.

The library became a special place for you and Mark, working together and goofing around. It was tiring sometimes but Mark was there and everything seemed to go well whenever he was around. That was what Mark has become in your life, someone you can lean on who doesn't attempt to pry for anything you're not willing to share. You know it was because he was oblivious to your inner demons, but you were glad to have a part of you that is not influenced by your pain. Sure, you realized somewhere along the way that you became an entirely different person when you're with Mark, but he doesn't know that and you decided to let it stay that way.

"Wow!" you all exclaimed when you arrived at the beach that was more than familiar to you. It had been decorated with a podium, a stage, and the surrounding structures. The only things missing are the flowers and the drapes which will be installed on the wedding day to avoid getting ruined.

"Look at this place!" You exclaimed. "It looks so much better now!"

The beach used to be nothing but a vacant space, with palm trees, wildflowers, and washed-over branches. Apparently, Owen bought it a year ago when the nearby hotel threatened to develop it into an extension of their building. He beautified it and built a beach house where they usually stayed during get-togethers. The beach remains open to the public, except this week for their wedding.

"Hey, isn't this your dating place?" Stan asked you and received a spank on the head courtesy of Timmy. "Ow! Hey!"

"Why would you bring that up?"

"I was just asking because I missed her," Stan defended and you just shook your head before following the girls into the house.

"What do you think?" Owen asked when you entered the house. You couldn't say anything other than gape at the wooden but modernized utilities around the house. It was spacious and you understood why Owen called it The Friends House because it really was big enough to house a large group of friends.

"It's beautiful, Owen. I don't know what to say."

"Yeah, you would have seen it before if you hadn't continuously bailed out on our invitations," Owen sulked, pouting at you. Dianne elbowed him and he groaned. "But you're here now! Welcome to the Friends House!"

"Thanks," you chimed. "It's great what you've done to the place."

"This place means a lot to Dianne and me, and it meant a lot to our crazy little squad so, other than the fact that it would be awful to tear the beach down, I also didn't want to lose its sentimental value."

You were about to say something when Mark arrived, making all heads turn to him.

"What?" he asked after a few seconds of awkward silence.

"Mark! You came back!" Stan cried dramatically, running to Mark for a hug.

The others laughed while Dianne called you girls to assign rooms. You shared your room with Nadine and you didn't care enough to ask how the boys assigned theirs. You then went out with the girls for a spa and shopping treatment downtown. She called it her last day of freedom and later tonight, the bridal shower that you prepared with the bridesmaids will take place in the beach house. Dianne called dibs on it because your party was indoors. As for the boys, you had no idea what they were up to.

"So that beach," Tris began while the five of you were getting your nails done. "I heard Mark discovered it?"

"Mark and y/n," Nadine corrected.

"Yeah, Mark," Tris repeated, turning to Nadine. "How exactly did he find such a beautiful place?"

You saw how Nadine grinned devilishly. "By taking y/n on romantic dates around the city."

Tris frowned at her and leaned back on her seat with a ‘hmph’.

Mark liked driving around the city. In the first few months of your relationship, you thought you'd seen everything there is to see but he surprised you again by taking you to the coast. You knew there's a coastline here but you've never been there before. It was lined by resorts and hotels but in a secluded spot westward is a hidden gem that he proudly boasted to you like he's the one who discovered it. Of course, it's been there ever since but it was too far to be considered a go-to place for anyone who wants to go to the beach. It was untouched and beautiful and you did plenty of picnics there, watching the sunset together.

He took you there to celebrate anything. He took you there when you needed comfort or when he needed a break. He took you there for no reason, especially when you both want to go out but can't think of a specific place to go. Most days, you would stay until after the sun has completely set, tangled in each other in a liplock. It was your own little secret until it wasn't anymore.

"I'm hungry," Mark complained, lying on your lap under the shade.

You snorted. "We literally just ate everything in our basket."

"Yeah, but I'm still hungry. I don't know why," he replied, sitting up and looking around. "Should we try fishing?"

"You'll need a boat for that and a fishing line."

"Foraging? Seashells wash up here all the time."

"You'll need to cook it."

"There is some seafood you can eat raw," he insisted and you shrugged.

"Yeah, but I think you'll need at least some salt or something."

He looked at you and stared for a while, his eyes moving from your lips to your eyes and back again.

"What?" you asked when he didn't say anything.

"I know what I want to eat," he said seriously, moving towards you.

You scoffed and met him halfway, giving him a chaste kiss on the lips. "There. Satisfied?"

"No," he replied, still inching closer so you leaned back. "It was a bit bland, chef. I think I need to taste it again."

You giggled still leaning back. When you couldn't hold yourself up anymore, you held onto his neck, but that caused you to accidentally pull him close and fall on your back down the picnic mat. He moved painfully slow towards your lips and kissed you equally as slowly. When he wouldn't kiss you properly, you realized he was teasing you so you bit his lip.

"Ow!" he muttered, laughing at your annoyed expression. "What? I was trying to taste it properly."

You pulled him by the collar and kissed him. Mark stopped playing around then, kissing you properly in the same delirious way you liked it to be. He bit your lip, prompting you to open your mouth and when you did, his tongue slid expertly inside. Four months of dating had you become an expert in kissing each other.

He has memorized your lips, your pattern, and your timings. He kissed you like he studied how to and you have no complaints because the last time you kissed someone has long been lost from your memory. Mark was the best and only kiss you've ever known.

"Mark," you breathed when you parted for a moment. He didn't reply and just dived in to kiss you again. It seemed like he wouldn't be listening to you, focusing too much on your lips, so you gathered your strength to sit up. He fell off on you and looked at you worriedly because of your sudden movement.

"Sorry, was that too much?"

"No." You pushed his chest so he was lying down and straddled his hips. Mark looked up at you in surprise.

"Y/n..." he muttered, hands falling on your waist.

"You're not listening to me," you complained before kissing him.

Mark was dragged into the vice of your lips again, one hand firmly holding your back while the other rested on your waist. Lust has begun to overcome you, grinding ever so slightly on his hard-on. That made Mark pull away and stare at you.

"What are you doing?"

You buried your face on his chest, too shy to show him how horny he has made you in the last few minutes.

"Babe, you don't have to if you don't want to," he whispered, kissing your head and patting your back.

"I want to," you mumbled but he didn't seem to hear. You lifted your head and looked straight into his eyes. "I want to, Mark. I want you."

Mark claimed your lips then and you were back to making out. His hand that once sat innocently on your waist has slid under your sundress, caressing and squeezing your inner thigh. His kisses left your lips to travel the length of your neck, sucking and kissing the supple skin. He sat up to better access your chest, pulling down the sleeves of your dress to reveal your bosoms.

"Oh, baby, look at you," he blurted as he took a good look at your chest before burying his face between them and taking a huge sniff of your skin. "You're so beautiful."

"Mark," you called out, pulling his head away before dragging your bra down. Mark wasted no time and sucked on your nipple, massaging the other one. The moan that escaped your mouth was euphoric, making you grind on his erection even faster. He kept switching between your boobs, all the while encouraging you to keep grinding by helping you move your waist.

"Oh my gosh," you screamed out, feeling your pussy clench with pleasure. Mark flipped you over, taking his shirt off before kissing your lips. When he pulled away, he gave you a smirk that almost made you gasp. Mark had always been handsome but right now, he looked so sexy to you and you knew it was the lust in your head that's making you say so.

He lifted your dress up to your waist and panic overcame you, making you close your legs. Mark just gave you an encouraging smile and squeezed your knee.

"It's okay. We can stop here today," he said softly.

"No, it's not that." You looked away, embarrassed to say the next words. "I've never done this before."

Mark appeared clueless for a second. "Sorry, what?"

You huffed and pushed yourself in a sitting position and wrapped your knees in your arms. "Nevermind. Let's just go if you're not interested."

Mark just laughed and pulled you into a hug. "Hey, that's not what I mean. Come on." He laid you back down, kissing you softly before looking into your eyes. "Are you sure you wanna do this?"

"Yeah."

"It might hurt."

"Yeah, it's okay."

"Really?"

"Yes, Mark! Are we gonna do this or not?"

Mark chuckled, kissing your forehead. "We are. I'm just checking to be sure."

"Fine." You were frowning but you just can't wait for Mark to pick up where you left off. You made out some more, building the heat back up from where it was abruptly halted. Mark began by touching your pussy, feeling up your wetness, and massaging it over your underwear. He pulled away from the kiss and caressed your cheek.

"Alright. Don't worry, okay? I got you," he said, leaving your side to position between your legs. He stripped you off your underwear and looked down at your pussy, then back at you with a smirk. But just as he was about to go down on you, you heard faint laughter from a distance that made you sit up instantly.

"Did you hear that?" you asked and Mark shushed you so he could listen properly.

"Mark?!" called a loud voice from far away. You gasped, taking your underwear and slipping it back on.

"Mark Lee?!" the voice called again, nearer this time.

"Shit, it's Stan!" Mark blurted and you immediately tossed his shirt back to him.

Mark wore it and stood in complete panic so you made him sit next to you on the mat and you both watched the yellow sky like nothing happened.

"Mark?" Stan called, his head peeking through the bushes. "Ah, there they are. I told you Mark is here!"

You glanced back at them, feigning indifference. Mark was even able to act annoyed.

"Yo, guys, what are you doing here?" he asked as Nadine and Timmy followed right behind Stan. "How did you find this place?"

"We were driving around when we saw your car on the side of the road," Timmy explained, looking around. "This place is beautiful. What is this place?"

"Mark found it," you replied, looking at Mark.

"Wow, and you've been keeping this from us? Like, really?" Nadine accused while looking around in amazement as well. "This place is literally paradise."

"It's an undeveloped part of the beachline, Nad. Don't be dramatic," Timmy chuckled. "But you're right. A few tweaks, some flowers and fruit trees, and this place will be paradise."

"Food!" Stan exclaimed, running to the basket you had with you. You just laughed knowing there's nothing in there.

Nadine was the first to call it Friends Beach, mainly because she was obsessed with Friends at the time but also because you didn't know what to call it when you made plans to go there. You cleaned the beach all the time, making sure no one would trash it and Timmy even went on to bring fruit trees and orchids that he attached to the huge tree at the center of the area. You kept it to yourselves, declaring it a private space just for friends. But your friend group soon welcomed two more people in it after a successful blind date mission.

"Mark! Guess what?!" you exclaimed at Mark when he visited you at the diner one day.

"What?"

"You said Owen likes Dianne?"

"Yeah. He said the pretty senior at the university library. Why?"

"How did they meet?"

Mark leaned on the table and thought for a while. "I'm not sure but he said he first saw her when she was delivering books to the library a few months ago. Why?"

You gasped. "Oh my god, I knew it. Listen, Dianne said she met this really nice guy a few months ago and fell in love with him but she heard he has a wife, so she reduced it to a crush. But she always passed by his bookshop every day to see him."

"Bookshop? You mean she likes Owen too?"

"Yes. Other than old man Luciano, the only one with a bookshop downtown is Owen."

Mark was also shocked by your revelation. "But wait, did she say he has a wife?"

"Yes."

"Owen doesn't have a wife."

"Oh, so why did she say that?"

"I don't know. But he's single, for sure. I know because we're close. Although he does hook up sometimes, he's very single."

You nodded at this and gave Mark a big grin. "You know how I said we shouldn't meddle with other people's business?"

"Yeah."

"I take that back. Let's set them up!"

And so, you spent a week planning an elaborate blind date for Owen and Dianne with the help of your other friends. By the weekend, you went home feeling proud that the date took place and then you braced yourselves for the results. Setting it up was the easy part, the hard part was whether they'd click or not. And that's also the part you can't do anything about.

"How was it?" Mark secretly asked when you saw each other at the library on Monday after the weekend date.

"I don't know. I just got here too. I haven't seen her yet."

"Mark, y/n?"

You both jolted when you heard Dianne speak behind you. She sounded stern and looked even more so when you saw her face. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she was tapping her foot on the floor impatiently.

"Dianne! Hi!" Mark greeted jovially, laughing awkwardly right after.

"I know what you guys did," she said without missing a beat and you felt your heart sink. Mark almost knelt on the floor if you hadn't stopped him.

"Dianne, I'm sorry. It was my idea," you blurted but she remained unfazed so you swallowed.

"THANK YOU!" She cheered loudly before hugging the two of you, even shaking your arms in excitement.

"Silence in the library!" The head librarian shouted and the three of you ducked and then ran to the nearest bookshelf to hide.

Dianne and Owen became a constant in your friend group in no time. You hung out often and even turned Owen's bookshop into a mini café where he'd make coffee for you each time you went there. Dianne was definitely older than you and your friends so she mostly acted like the mom of the group, scolding those who were skipping study time and giving out study materials during exams week. Owen just bought you food each time one of you complains of hunger. Your bond grew closer through time until you left and decided to never come back.

You used to belong with these people, a friend and a special part of their lives. Maybe you still are right now, but in your heart, you know you don't deserve to be at the receiving end of their love anymore. You used to love this group, but now you hate them. Not the kind of hate that makes you want to punch them in the face or cut them off, but the kind that makes you hate yourself. Simply put, you hate them because you hate yourself. Why? Mark. He was the reason you became friends with them and after doing such an awful thing to him, you felt undeserving of this whole squad. If anything, you wish they'd hate you but Mark would never let that happen. Whatever happened between you, it seems like he kept it to himself. Because if he did tell anyone, you know they'd hate your guts.

"Are you ready Di?" Timmy asked as he pushed a cart with the cake on it. You all wanted to laugh looking at the dick-shaped fondant adorning the cake, but you stopped yourselves.

The Friends’ House is now filled with girls involved in Dianne's wedding, friends, relatives, and other ladies who were invited to the Bridal Shower.

"Welcome to your last night of maidenhood!" Timmy announced, and Amanda lifted the blindfold off of Dianne's head on cue. You all started cheering when she grabbed the dick cake and bit off its head. Some cameras were filming her as she did this. The party went on with loud music blasting from speakers, champagne showers, lots of dancing, and more alcohol.

By 11pm, the house was reduced into a crowded mess of drunken women, wet with both sweat and champagne and lying down on whatever solid space they could find.

"We're old," Dianne muttered while you lay on the wooden floor with her and the others. "We can't even last until midnight. That's just another hour from now."

You giggled; head clouded with alcohol. You had just started coming down from the high of the party and the sugar rush of sweet pastries.

"No, you're old. I'm just partying with the wrong crowd," Nadine corrected, rolling on her side so she could hug you. "I wonder what the boys are up to."

"Probably falling asleep like we are," Dianne laughed. "Drunk and wasted at 11pm."

"You guys are wasted. Not me," you snorted as you forced yourself to stand up, squinting so your eyes would focus on the figure you were seeing at the doorway. You recognized Mark and immediately perked up.

"Oh, it's my Mark," you grinned, standing up groggily to go to him. You staggered a few times, but you regained your balance, telling no one that you were okay. "No, seriously guys. I'm okay!"

"Oh god, what is she doing?" Nadine asked, watching you walk towards the man and wrap your arms around his neck.

"You're a handsome young man," you told him, losing your balance on your high heels but he caught your arm and you just giggled. "Sorry. You look like this guy I used to know."

"Get your shit together, y/n," he chided through gritted teeth.

"Sounds like something he'd say if he sees me like this," you replied, giggling.

"You're drunk. Go get some rest."

You straightened up but you didn't take your arms off of him. "Oh, I'm not drunk but they are!" You pointed to the others and started laughing at them.

Nadine groaned and lay back down. "Ugh, she's gonna regret this."

"Can I kiss you?"

Mark was taken aback but he just frowned slightly. "Why would you do that? Do you know me?"

"You're Mark Lee," you giggled and then scowled. "Or are you? I think you are."

"Why would you kiss me if you know I'm Mark Lee?"

You looked away for a second to think. "I don't know." You glanced back at him and let go of his neck. "You know what, you're right. I can't just kiss you because you look like Mark."

You were about to walk away but he pulled you back to his chest. "I didn't say you can't."

Your whole face lit up, eyebrows rising when you said, "I can?"

"Why don't you try and see?"

You giggled as you wrapped your arms back around his neck and planted a soft kiss on his lips. Mark stayed still, holding your waist firmly because you weren't standing properly on your heels. You pulled away after a few seconds of just pressing your lips on his. The grin on your face was satisfied but also drunk.

"Now what?"

You shook your head. "My Mark is a better kisser," you said before burying your face in his chest and taking a deep breath.

You stayed like that for a few seconds before a stomping sound was heard on the wooden floors and someone pulled you by the shoulder.

"Hmm?" you inquired before a slap landed on your face. Mark quickly wrapped you in his embrace, shielding you from a drunk and angered Tris.

"Slut!" she hissed before attempting to attack you again but Mark pulled you away from her. He shot Tris a cold glare before dragging you out of the house.

The men outside were still drinking in front of the bonfire when Mark carried you out. Owen called him but he was rushing you out of anyone's eyes and ears. Your hands fell limply on your side while Mark was carrying you, the other was stroking your stinging cheek.

"You okay?" he asked with a grunt, heaving you up. You were a little heavier than he expected.

You smiled brightly, eyes half-lidded as sleepiness started to get to you. "Yes! My cheek kind of hurts though."

"Yeah, someone slapped you."

"I know, silly. I saw it," you laughed and Mark sighed in exasperation, stopping for a while to glare at you.

"Stop smiling. That wasn't funny at all."

You shook your head and then pointed to him. "I know. What's funny is you. You have two heads." You started laughing, throwing your head back and kicking your legs and Mark almost lost his balance.

"For fuck's sake, y/n." He knelt and dropped you on the sand, making you land on your butt. You complained, rubbing your ass slowly over your satin dress.

"You're mean," you muttered, laying your head on the nearby rock before closing your eyes. "I hate you."

"You do? Good because I hate you too."

You didn't hear that anymore because you drifted to sleep quickly, your breath steadying. Mark tsked, pocketing his hands as he looked down at you on the sand.

"Get up. Go sleep in your room." But you didn't move and it was stupid to tell you to sleep in your room because he already brought you far from the house, far from everyone; here in the cove that you both know so well. The cove that became your own personal hideout. "Come on."

Mark knelt on the sand and picked you up, patting away the sand on your skin and hair. Then he took off his jacket and placed it on the ground. He laid you there and let your head rest on his lap while he rested his back on the big boulder behind him. He stayed like that, convinced you'd wake up soon enough and you could walk back to the house by yourself.

And you did. You woke up with a mild headache and a stiff neck. It was dark and the only light was coming from Mark's phone's flashlight. You sat up and saw Mark sleeping with his back on the rock. You were confused for a second but memories started flooding back to you, making you shake your head in shame. You stood up, picking up his jacket to cover him with it. Then you started to slowly sneak away.

"Where are you going?" he called, making you stop dead in your tracks.

"Nowhere," you replied, sitting right next to him in an instant. "I was just looking around."

"Good. Don't leave," he ordered with his eyes still closed before leaning his head on your shoulder.

You looked around you and recognized the cove you used to hide in after the beach became Friends Beach. It was a bit further into the sparse woods but it was difficult to find. You remembered stumbling upon this area by accident and it has since become your hideout. It wasn't even an actual cove, just a small open space hidden behind tall trees. The lower part of the cliff had been weathered and continuously struck by the waves, making it look like a small cave. Mark has tried to go there before only to find shallow solid rock curvature, no actual cave.

The first time you had sex with Mark was by this cove. He had been trying his luck with fishing but he never caught a single one so he was sulking on the mat. You comforted him by saying you'd buy him sushi but one thing led to another and you were suddenly making out. Mark had been gentle with you, prepping you for himself and making sure you were comfortable. He kept comforting you the whole time, asking if you were fine and if he should stop. And even when you finally got over the painful part, he maintained his gentleness while keeping you satisfied. Ever since that day, sex with Mark became your favorite thing.

Your rendezvous were mostly innocent, by the cove, at his house, and in a hotel. He tried several times to sneak into your dorm but the security was too tight. That was around the same time you started going to parties with them and more often than not, you'd end up having sex in his car after too much alcohol and dancing. Mark was good with anything and he was especially good with sex.

"Why are we here on a weekend?" you asked as you entered Mark's house.

"Because we don't have anything fun to do," he replied, holding your hand as you climbed the stairs.

Mark's house is huge, situated in the suburban area of the city. His family is wealthy, as you've observed but you only met his mother a handful of times because they are never around much. The moment you found out that he was rich, you started to feel small about yourself. He lives in an entirely different world while you struggle to make ends meet. Your love for him was the only thing keeping you from leaving.

"What about fishing? Have you given up on it?"

Mark shrugged. "I can practice next time. For now, I want to lounge around and just do nothing with you."

You rolled your eyes as you stepped into his room. "There is no way you're just doing nothing with me, Mark."

He grinned as he closed the door, then stepped towards you to kiss you. "I'm glad you know that."

You scoffed before he kissed you, pulling you close so your bodies were touching. Mark guided you to the bed, your lips still locked together. But as soon as he sat you down, someone started knocking on his door. You both pulled away and he whined as he went to open his door.

"Mom," he asked, a bit surprised. "I thought you were leaving today."

"We had to come back for something," she replied, peering into the room where you sat on his bed. She smiled at you so you returned it. "Why don't you help your Dad find some files in the study? It's very important and he's saying he put them on the top shelves. None of us can reach it."

"Sure." He turned to you and smiled. "I'll be right back."

When Mark left, his mother came into the room and sat next to you on the edge of the bed.

"How are you, y/n? Is Mark treating you well?"

"I'm fine, Ma'am. Mark is very kind to me."

"Good. As he should," she chimed, reaching for your hand and holding it in her lap. "Anything planned after college?"

"A few things, but nothing is set yet. I'm still trying to figure things out," you replied politely.

She nodded at that and then sighed. "I want the best for my son, y/n. And I want him to be happy more than anything else. If you can bring out the best in him while also making him happy, I will be grateful to you until the day I die."

You smiled at her, squeezing her hand as a form of gratitude for her entrusting Mark to you. "I'll try my best, ma'am."

"Thank you." She chuckled heartily. "I may be absent now that he's grown, but I spent most of my life raising that boy. I'm sure he won't ever hurt you. Mark never hurts those he loves."

His mother was right. Mark never hurts those he loves. But you weren't Mark. You're cursed to hurt those you love and ruin them beyond repair.

“Congratulations, Dianne!” Nadine sobbed, hugging Dianne on her seat in front of the mirror.

Dianne just laughed, stroking Nadine's arms affectionately. “Thanks, but I'm not even married yet.”

“You might as well be. You look so ready to walk that aisle already.”

You sighed as you stepped out of the bathroom in your bridesmaid dress. “Oh god, Nadine. She just put makeup on. What would you do when she's in her wedding dress already?”

“I would literally drop dead,” Nadine claimed, carefully wiping her tears so she didn't smudge her makeup.

Dianne shook her head as she walked to the dress with the hired stylist. “No, don't drop dead. We're already one bridesmaid short. We can't afford to lose another one on the day of the wedding.”

“One bridesmaid short? Why what happened? Who's missing?” you questioned and everyone in the room looked at you in confusion. You saw that the only one missing was Tris and was about to ask when Amanda explained.

“We kicked the bitch out.”

“Why?”

Dianne scowled at you. “What do you mean why? Don't you remember getting slapped last night or did that take a toll on your memory?”

“Tris slapped me?”

“You don't remember? Did also forget clinging to your ex and calling him your Mark?”

You flattened your lips together in shame. “I remember that bit.” You were actually so preoccupied with Mark that you don't remember anything else from last night except him.

“Good. Tris attacked you because of that.” Nadine was seething. One moment she was crying about Dianne, now she's so angry that her brows are knitted. “She's lucky it didn't leave a bruise because I'd bury her alive.”

“So, she won't be here today?”

“No. Not ever. She already caused too much trouble with her picky attitude during the wedding preparations. She's not even related to me in any way other than the fact that she's Owen's cousin. I won't tolerate her trampling on the people I care about,” Dianne ranted while she was being dressed.

Nadine comforted her. “Forget her, Di. Don't let some wannabe socialite ruin your mood on your big day.”

Dianne took a deep breath and calmed down. “Thanks, Nad. Oh, by the way, where did Mark take you last night? I don't remember you coming back here.”

“Just someplace near here. We fell asleep and woke up at around 3. That's when I came back.”

“Did you hook up with him?” Amanda asked in surprise so you denied it.

“No! God no. We really just slept. I was drunk and it seems like he was too. Mark would never hook up with me, Mandy.”

“How would we know that when you won't even spare us the details of your breakup.”

You huffed and finished fixing your hair. “This is your wedding day, Dianne. Let's not ruin it with useless accounts of the past.”

“She's right. Let's live in the now.” Nadine started sobbing again when Dianne was done dressing up. “Dianne! I'm so happy for you!”

The sky was clear when you stepped out of the House. Three white cars were waiting for you and you each got into your assigned vehicle, wishing Dianne good luck before heading to the church. The entourage was waiting. The entrance and the ceremony began as soon as Dianne's car rolled in. You found Mark in his place and you rushed over to him, noticing how he offered his arm for you to hold on to as you practiced and even sparing you a small smile before looking ahead. After receiving nothing but a cold shoulder all week, this small gesture of acknowledgment sure made you happy.

“I don't hate you,” he had told you the night before while you two were sitting in the dark by the cove. “I'm just upset, that's all.”

You didn't have a reply to that and you were grateful that he didn't ask for any. It did make things less tense between you. You both were even smiling at everyone as you walked down the aisle together before parting to sit where you were assigned to. The ceremony wasn't slow but it wasn't fast either. As soon as Dianne walked in through the huge church doors, all eyes turned to her and few gasps of amazement were heard. As she drew nearer, you saw Owen wipe a few tears and that made your heart swell with emotions. You realized that even though you believed you hated everyone here, you wouldn't have wanted to miss this important day.

Vows were exchanged and they kissed in front of their loved ones to formally announce their marriage. Pictures were taken too and as soon as you went back to the Friends House, the commissioned photographer had you take a whole hour of pictorial by the beach. You had fun with all of them, the laughter and chatter had you feeling like you got transported back to your college days when you were the happiest.

It was past 9pm when Owen and Dianne left for their honeymoon. The party was swell as they had intended and it didn't end even after they were gone. There aren’t that many people now, just a couple of younger ones who can handle partying until late at night. Stan has turned the entire thing into a frat party and was by the wine table downing the makeshift keg he had set up with a few other guys. The girls were still dancing around to the music but you were getting bored and tired after Nadine slipped away with some guy. Amanda was flirting with someone on the newlywed's chair. You thought about going back to your room but you were assuming that it was where Nadine took her hook up so you decided against it. That was when you decided to go to the cove.

It was dark and it was supposed to be scary out there but you didn't think that at all. You had your phone out, using it as a flashlight as you ventured through the trees. You even took your shoes off when it proved difficult to walk in them on the sand. And as you reached the small open space, you let out a sigh of relief. You were just about to sit in your usual spot when you heard the rustle of leaves behind you which put you on high alert. But then the intruder came out and you saw that it was Mark.

“Mark?”

“Hey,” he greeted nonchalantly, walking past you to sit on the sand by the boulder.

You stood there awkwardly until he noticed you and tapped the space beside him as an invitation for you to sit. “Did you come here to just stand there?”

“Did you follow me here?”

“So, what if I did? The space is not exclusive to you, is it?”

You sighed, rolling your eyes before sitting in the space next to him. When you glanced at him, you caught a whiff of alcohol and frowned.

“Are you drunk?”

“Aren't you? It's a party,” he smarted.

Of course, you're not. You even avoided the sight of alcohol after your embarrassing stint last night.

“You don't seem drunk,” you observed so he glanced at you, your faces were about half a foot in distance.

“That's because I'm not,” he smirked. “I had a few bottles. Not enough to have me clinging on my ex.”

“Mark Lee!” You slapped his knee, frowning at him for reminding you of that. Mark just laughed, content to get a rise out of you.

“Seeing me after five years didn't even affect you one bit but you're getting mad about that?” He smirked. “Good. At least I got a reaction out of you.”

“What?”

He huffed and clenched his jaw, looking away in the direction of the sea. You had long turned off your flashlight but the moon was shining high above so your surroundings were still visible. You can even see the slight changes in Mark's expressions, including the pained look on his face that he tried to hide with a frown.

“I'm sorry,” you mumbled, taking your eyes off his face.

“No, you're not.”

“Really, I am,” you insisted. “I realized a long time ago how messed up that was. I shouldn't have done that to you.”

“A long time ago?” he asked so you nodded without looking at him. “Then why didn't you come back?”

“I couldn't, Mark. Not when I already had enough guts to leave.”

“That wasn't fair, y/n.”

You glanced at him and saw that he had been looking at you the whole time. You were hesitating to continue the conversation and deep in your mind, you were wondering how you both ended up talking about this, only to realize you brought it up first. “I know that, Mark. I just...” You gave up trying to explain and just huffed.

“What? You're not even gonna explain yourself? After all these years you'd still shut me out? Don't I deserve to know how I ended up getting hurt when all I ever did was love you?”

You folded your legs together and buried your face in your palms, the surge of emotions coming onto you like a freight train. The pain and guilt that you buried deep in your memory for years is now screaming right at your face as if instead of dying, it grew roots and branches and leaves.

“Why did you do that?”

Yeah, why did you?

You were huffing as you rushed out of the taxi cab and ran straight in the direction of that hell-hole of a house. As soon as you reached the door, you pounded on it nonstop, demanding your aunt to come out and talk to you. It opened soon after, revealing an intoxicated man.

“What are you doing here, you ungrateful bitch?” your uncle spat but you brushed past him into the living room.

Your aunt was laughing in front of the television, a cigarette in her hand and a few bottles of alcohol on the coffee table.

“Did you do it?”

She didn't even look at you. “Do what? Be specific when you're asking questions.”

“My salary from the diner. Did you cash it out?”

She appeared to think. “Oh, the diner? Yeah. Yes, I did. Just a few months’ worth. We're behind on the water bill you see.” She pointed at the stack of mail on top of the cabinet by the doorway.

You grabbed them and saw several pieces of mail from the water provider. You took a deep breath to calm down but your voice still cracked. “Why would you do that?”

“I told you. We needed money for the water.”

“But that was for my tuition.”

“It's okay, I'll pay you back.”

“Aunt, you never pay me back! You always say you do, but you never ever paid me back!” you hollered at her, now straight-up crying.

Your uncle rounded the living room and hit the back of your head. “Keep your voice down in my house!”

You watched as he sat next to your aunt on the couch and took a bottle of beer. You were still crying and they didn't even seem to care one bit.

“Auntie, please,” you pleaded. “An advance of three months? What else would I be getting from that? I need to pay for school. I need to feed myself too!”

For the first time since you arrived, your aunt looked at you with disdain. “And are we supposed to just live without a water supply? What's gonna happen to us? The house is gonna reek!”

“It already reeks even with running water!” you screamed at the top of your lungs, shaking in anger.

“Why are you screaming so early?” your uncle threw a bottle at you that barely missed your head.

You froze with your eyes widened in shock, horrified that you had almost been hit right in the face. Sadness suddenly left you, leaving a burning rage in your heart. You felt like you would convulse as rage rose to your head. Your eyes were bulging and the sight of them looking unconcerned is making your heart explode. You crumpled the pieces of mail in your hand and lunged at the table to flip it over. You grabbed the baseball bat from its fixture on the wall and started hitting the alcohol bottles, breaking them to pieces while your aunt and uncle screamed in terror and bewilderment at your actions. As soon as you had your fill of violence, you stood up in the middle of the living room, huffing contentedly before dropping the bat.

“Y/n! What are you doing? You almost gave me a heart attack!” Your aunt chided and you're now convinced she's too drunk to make sense of what was actually happening.

“You can both drop dead. I don't care.”

You left the house feeling like shit. It reeked so much there that you had to smell yourself to make sure it didn't stick on you. You spat on the ground, disgusted when you think about how you managed to live in that place for a long time. Your eyes were still wet with tears when you noticed the crumpled mail in your hand. You stopped walking to look at it, recognizing the crest of a university you applied to a year ago, at the beginning of your freshman year in college. It was addressed to you and you opened it to read the contents. Your mind focused on the large letters right below the long introductory line and covered your mouth in surprise.

“We are pleased to inform you that your application had been approved!”

You sat on your heels, weeping in utter happiness after what you've just read. You immediately fished out your phone and dialed the number on the letter, afraid to waste another moment, especially after finding out that the letter had been mailed to you over five months ago. You talked to the woman on the phone who seemed delighted to hear from you.

“Yeah, I lost it in my stack of mail because I recently changed my address. I was wondering if the offer still stands?”

“Of course! We only welcome freshmen applicants who passed but for those who received an offer, we are inclined to accept sophomores too.”

You were sure the woman on the other line could hear you crying as you thanked her. She hung up after a polite goodbye and a promise to see you in New York by the start of the fall semester. You wiped your tears and composed yourself as you continued walking. But as soon as you walked out of the house's unkempt picket fence, you saw Mark come out of a corner.

“Babe!” he grinned when he spotted you. “There you are! I was looking for you!”

You felt nervous all of a sudden, wondering why he was there and how he knew you'd be in this part of the city.

“Mark—” You couldn't even finish your speech when the voice of your screaming uncle made you glance back to the house. He was angrily calling your name, waving a baseball bat in the air as he screamed that you're a wicked bitch for making a mess in his house. You grabbed Mark by the hand and pulled him out of there, not stopping until you reached the highway.

“What's going on? Who was that?”

“No one,” you panted, holding onto your knees as you caught your breath. “That's no one.”

“He called you a bitch. What's going on baby? Do you know that man?” He helped you up and lifted your chin so you were looking at him. As soon as he saw your tear-stained face, he pulled you into a tight hug. “Hey? What's wrong? What happened? I'm here, y/n. You can tell me.”

“Nothing, Mark. I'm fine,” you argued, your voice breaking as you tried to pull away from his hug. You hit his arms when he wouldn't let go. “Let me go!”

Mark did as you asked, backing away a few paces to give you space. “Okay. Just tell me what's going on. Is he related to you? Did he hurt you? What are you doing on this side of town? You know there are a lot of thugs around here.”

You took a deep breath and looked right at him. “This is where I live, Mark.”

Mark seemed surprised, but the worry on his face didn't leave as he approached to hold your shoulders again.

“Is that man your dad? Is he hurting you?” He scanned your body for any sign of injury. When he looked at your shoulder, he stopped to gaze into your eyes. “The bruise on your shoulder from before, was that by him?”

“He's not my dad.” You shook his hands off of you. “My parents are dead.”

Mark's mouth hung open. “Why didn't you tell me that?”

You felt upset when he asked that. All of a sudden, you were flooded by the feeling of helplessness and loneliness that you endured ever since your parents passed away when you were 15. You blamed them for leaving you behind and letting your aunt and uncle treat you like shit. You blamed them for leaving you to suffer by yourself. And you blamed them because you were lonely and sad for a long time. Meeting Mark was a good way to forget about the immense sadness. But now, even that has been tainted by the loss of your parents.

“Why? So you'd pity me? So you can keep thinking about it and look at me like how you're doing right now?”

“Babe—”

“Or what? So you can decide if I am qualified to be in your life or not?”

“Baby!” Mark scolded. “I did not say that!”

“Then what is it? Did you want to know so you can see if I can make you happy while bringing out the best in you?” you spat, his mom’s words echoing in your head.

“Hey,” he called lovingly as reached for you again but you dodged. “What are you talking about?”

“I'm done, Mark. It's over.”

Mark sighed and held your hand. “Come on. You're emotional. Let's go get some air. We'll talk after you feel a little better.”

“Where are you taking me, Mark? To your fancy house? To that fancy hotel that you paid for with your dad's money?”

“Baby, please. Don't do this.”

“Or, or are you taking me to that damned cove because I'm so easy and I'd let you fuck me anywhere?”

Mark stopped walking and stared at you dead in the eyes. The look almost made you wake up from your angry stupor but you just scoffed.

“Did I hit a nerve?”

“Y/n, why are you doing this?”

“I'm done, Mark. We're done. So please, leave me alone.”

You walked on the opposite side of the road while Mark chased after you.

“Don't push me away, y/n. Come on! Let's talk about this. You're upset right now. Let's talk when you're a little bit calmer!”

But you paid him no mind and got into the taxi cab that stopped in front of you when you called for it.

Mark never gives up. You know that and you loved that about him. But now that he's not giving up on you, you feel suffocated. He kept blowing your phone so much that you had to block him. He cornered you in your classes that you stopped attending. You even pulled out of the junior librarian job because he was there. It's all good because you're leaving after the semester anyway. You spent the days filling out forms and preparing yourself for New York. Dianne was kind enough to lend you money without asking why and you were able to pay off your advances from the diner before you quit your job there. You promised her you'd pay her but she told you not to worry too much and take your time. Mark had been camping out of the dorms and several times you saw him get kicked out by the dorm lady. You've been cooped up in the building, not leaving to avoid running into him.

You realized after that confrontation with Mark that you were horrible to him. You were mean and cruel and he didn't deserve any of that. You were upset and justifiably so, but Mark shouldn't have been at the receiving end of your rage. Unfortunately, he was at the wrong place at the wrong time. You didn't mean anything you said about him, especially the part where you want to break up. But as you thought about it for days, you realized it was better to break it off with him. You're not planning on coming back here anyway.

Your school announced your departure just before the day you leave. It was great news to be offered a spot in such a prestigious school that your university had to make a big announcement out of it. It was mainly Spencer's idea and the school administration was on board with it. That was how your friends found out that you were leaving. Mark too.

“New York? That's amazing!” Nadine told you while you were at the diner the night before you left.

“I'm friends with a genius. How great is that?” Stan was fake crying as he hugged you. You couldn't help smiling at the support from your friends. But then the bells of the door rang and you turned to see Mark entering the diner.

Stan let go of you and smiled sheepishly. “I hope you don't mind I invited Mark. I mean, I know you broke up and all but hey, he's still your friend, right?”

“You two broke up?” Timmy exclaimed, followed by gasps of surprise from Nadine and Dianne.

“Y/n! Is it true?”

Stan looked surprised. “You guys didn't know? I thought everyone knew.”

“Did Mark tell you that?” Nadine asked.

“Mark?!” your friends turned to him.

“No. I kinda just assumed it. I haven't seen them together for days and y/n haven't hung out with us for a while too so I thought they broke up,” Stan explained.

Dianne started laughing and turned to Owen. “Hey, didn't we have a transaction we need to take care of?”

“Transaction?”

“The books, Owen. For the library. Let's go. We have to take care of it now.” She turned to you and said, “Congratulations, sweetie. Sorry, but we have to go now. Those books are really really important.”

Nadine and Timmy stood up too. “You know what, I think I'll go study for the exams.”

“I thought the exams were over?” Stan questioned and Timmy glowered him knowingly.

“Unlike our smart y/n, I have to retake a few subjects.”

“I'm sleepy as heck,” Nadine added.

You sighed as your friends came up with the lamest excuses to leave but you didn't want to interfere. Maybe it's for the best that you have this final talk with Mark anyway. He deserved that much.

“I guess I'll leave you two alone to talk,”

Stan said, taking his bag and waving goodbye.

Mark sat right next to you, hugging you on your side and burying his face in the crook of your neck. He stayed still like that for a moment and you felt your heart melting into the warmth of his embrace. A part of you is wishing he wouldn't let go and that you can just stay that way forever.

“I love you,” he whispered, just as you started feeling the wetness on your shoulder. Mark's crying. For the first time, you're seeing Mark cry.

You made a move to get him off of you but he tightened his hold.

“Please,” he begged and you swallowed the lump in your throat to stop yourself from crying.

You stayed like that for a while, letting him hug you while you stroke his back affectionately. Eventually, you realized you couldn't stay in that diner all night, so you left and he walked you to your dorm, holding your hand in his tightly, like he was scared to let go. He stopped you from entering the dorm, knowing he wouldn't be allowed inside but you gave him a smile.

“It's okay. The dorm lady said I can bring you inside for my last night on campus.”

It was true. When you surrendered some of the dorm stuff that you needed to return before leaving, the dorm lady congratulated you for making it to NYU. She also told you that you could bring in your heartbroken boyfriend who had been sitting outside the dorm for days now. It will be her way to wish you good luck in New York. Mark saw that it was true when the dorm lady smiled at the two of you by the entrance and warned you not to wake everyone. You were still hand-in-hand even as you entered your now empty dorm room. The only thing intact was the bed and the sheets weren't even yours anymore but the dorm's.

“I'll go wash up. Have a seat,” you told him but he hugged you from behind, refusing to let you out of his sight.

You ended up lying in bed with Mark, looking into each other's eyes as he played with your hair. There was a pain in his eyes that he failed to hide and you were trying not to break down crying in front of him.

“Please tell me this is the reason why you're breaking up with me.”

“No,” you answered truthfully.

“Baby...” he pleaded, forehead creasing as he did. “It's okay. New York is far but we can make it work. I'll come to you from time to time.”

“Mark, it's not that.”

“Then what is it?” he demanded. “I love you, y/n. I loved you so much. I have loved you for an entire year and each day I spent loving you, I saw no reason to stop.”

“I know that. I love you too.”

Mark's face lit up. “You do?”

“I do. More than anything.”

Mark kissed you right then, pulling you into his embrace so you were flush against his body. You kissed him back, realizing at the time just how much you missed him. Your kisses got deeper and noisier, getting into your heads as he rolled over to cage you underneath him. He pulled away for a few seconds, looking into your eyes and seeing nothing but your love for him.

“I love you, y/n.”

“I love you, Mark.”

And so, your last night in the university, in the city, ended with Mark inside you, raw, steady, sensual, and gentle with the right amount of aggression. Just like how you would remember him to be for the next few years.

“I have to leave, Mark,” you told him outside the airport. He drove you from your city to next where the airport was, holding your hand and humming happily to the song. Mark woke up feeling great today, unaware of the truth that you're keeping from him. You know it was cruel, you know you'd break him to pieces, but your selfishness won't let you leave without seeing him for the last time. Even in your final few seconds here, you wanted to be with Mark.

“I know. But you'll come back. I can wait,” he chimed, kissing the back of your hand. You were in his car, parked outside the airport and he had been showering you with his love and innocent little kisses the whole time.

“No,” you croaked, eyes stinging when tears threatened to fall from them. “I'm not coming back.”

Mark frowned, chuckling. “What do you mean? Why not?”

“There's nothing for me to come back to,” you confessed, swallowing your tears to put on the cruel persona that you've prepared.

“Baby, I'm here. What do you mean there's nothing to come back to?”

You just shook your head and he stared at you for a while to see if you were lying. You didn't back down.

“Not even me?” he finally asked so you looked away, one hand ready to open the door on your side.

“Not even you.”

When your plane left that day, you also left everything behind. Your friends, your past, the things that you don't need, and the ones that you need. You left the one you needed the most, the boy you loved and never stopped loving until now, the most beautiful boy you've ever known. Your Mark Lee.

“I loved you, you know. I was down from the start, even when you haven’t told me anything about you,” Mark began, eyes shifting back to the sea. “I would have loved you for whoever you are. I showed you who I am. All of it, even the ones that I considered were bad, you loved me for them. I would have done the same.”

“That's easy for you to say, Mark.”

“And I would have proven it!” he roared, glowering at you for a moment before looking away again. “You didn't give me the chance, y/n.”

“I'm sorry. I was scared.”

“I understand that. But I welcomed you into my life. I made you an important part of my world,” he paused and looked at you with a mixture of hatred and pain on his face. “You made me a fantasy you dive into when you want to escape your misery, y/n. I understand why you'd do that, but you shut me out when all I ever did was love you, support you, and be there for you! None of it would have mattered. I would've supported you when you left! I would’ve gone to you once you decide to never come back I would've fought those assholes for you!”

“I didn't need you to do that, Mark. I just needed you to be you. I wouldn't have asked for any of that.”

“Fine. I get it,” he grunted. “You didn't trust me enough to share your struggles with me. But if I had known about it, if I had known you left because of it, I wouldn't have spent all these years hating you when I loved you so much.”

You stared at him, processing his words in your head. It felt like your mind was firing up with all the information you were getting. But your eyes found his lips and you couldn't even think to stop yourself before you pulled his collar and kissed him. He kissed you right back, aggressively, torridly, biting and sucking without mercy. When you pulled away, overwhelmed by his aggression, he smirked at you.

“You haven't changed at all, have you? Do you still like grabbing people by the collar?” he asked, obviously not looking for an answer when he kissed you again, lifting you to sit across his lap while he unzipped the back of your dress.

You let his hand wander, even arching your back when his lips traveled to your chest. He sucked your skin, bruising it and leaving marks all over you while you moan and grind on his hips.

“Oh, Mark!” you whimpered, grinding faster and harder against his clothed cock. Mark hitched your dress up, pulling your underwear down and thumbing your clit.

“That's right, baby. Call my name,” he smirked. “Call my name. I bet you missed that, huh? Or did you meet another Mark back there?”

You moved to unbuckle his belt but he stopped you, gently slapping your hand away and chuckling. He took off his coat and placed it on the sand before laying you down there. When his weight left you, you called for him, making him grin cockily as he stripped you off of your underwear. You watched as he unbuttoned his pants and let it fall to his knees.

“Turn around.”

“What?”

“Turn around, on your hands and knees.”

You felt humiliated being ordered around like that, but that didn't get in your head and instead, turned you on. There was something about Mark right now that is unfamiliar to you. Has he changed over the years? It doesn't matter, you were too lost in your lust to think about it and just want him inside of you.

A scream tore out of you when he suddenly pushed his cock in, roughly, without warning. He covered your mouth while you winced in pain, feeling like you had been brought back to the first time you ever had sex, which was with Mark as well.

“Does it hurt?” he asked in your ear, his voice mean and menacing. “Good. You probably deserved it.”

He started bucking his hips, thrusting violently into you. You should be angry, but you're only crying in so much pleasure, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he grabbed a fistful of your hair. He slapped your ass cheek once, and then twice, and several times again because each time he did you let out the lewdest, naughtiest moan he's ever heard. You were dirty because of lust, because of Mark. And you didn't mind, you liked it. You liked how he ravaged your skin with bruises caused by his intense kisses. You liked how your ass is stinging with each spank. You liked how he's drilling into you and thrusting hard like there's no tomorrow. You liked the disrespect and the bouts of pleasure that it sent through your entire body.

“Cum, baby. Don't be shy, let it go,” he ridiculed when your cries turned into faint whimpers. “I said do it!”

He thrusted roughly into you and that sent you into a spiraling orgasm that had you collapsing on weakened limbs. Mark stopped, letting you fall limp on his coat before gently turning your body so you were lying on your back. He wiped the sweat on your forehead and tucked away the hair that gathered on your face. Then he planted one tender kiss on your forehead.

“I'm sorry,” he said softly, laying his head on your chest. “Was it too much?”

“Why? You can't handle it?” you challenged so Mark lifted his head. He looked at you with a deadpan expression.

“How are you still atrocious with your words?”

“How are you still obsessed with my body?” you retorted and Mark shrugged.

“To be fair, it's an immaculate body.”

“And your dick is still hard,” you pointed out. Mark smirked at you and positioned himself on top of you.

“So I can fuck you into oblivion but you'd still have enough audacity to get smart with me?”

You just giggled while Mark leaned to kiss you. He prodded your entrance again, taking a few test penetrations before doing it fully as if he hadn't already left you wet and overly lubricated with your own juices. Mark fucked you again, this time in a way that's more like Mark, like how you remembered it to be. When he started losing strength in his arms and his movement became erratic, you knew he was close so you wrapped your legs around his torso, telling him to keep going. Mark went faster and harder until he pushed his very last thrust and came inside of you. You bit your lip, satisfied by the sex and even more so by the look on his face. You missed this man so much and you also missed how you can reduce him into such a mess with just your body.

“If I get you pregnant, that's on you,” he quipped, laying on top of you. You giggled, wrapping your arms around him. “I guess that's fine too because you'll have to marry me. I don't want my child to grow up with a broken family.”

“Well first, how do you know I'd keep it?”

“I don't, but assuming you would, I won't let him grow up without me.”

“And second, that's not gonna happen because I take birth control religiously.”

He lifted his head and frowned at you. “Do you sleep around in New York?”

You scoffed at the intrusive question and he shook his head briskly and pressed his cheek on your chest again.

“No, never mind. Don't tell me. You could have had a hundred boyfriends there, I don't care. You're here right now, so that's all that matters.”

You pushed him off of you but he wouldn't budge. “For the record, you were so obsessed with me before that I had to regularly take birth control pills. It just became a habit. I haven't been sleeping around, unlike someone I know.”

“Are you accusing me?”

“If the shoe fits.”

Mark just laughed as he stood up to put his pants back on. He then helped you up and gave you your underwear that he had kept out of the sand by placing it safely on the rock. He also helped you zip your dress back up before nuzzling on your neck.

“You smell different.”

“Perfume.”

“Yeah. I like it.”

“You like this perfume?”

“No. I like whatever you wear as long as it's your skin.”

You scoffed and pushed Mark away. “Hey, aren't you supposed to be mad at me right now?”

He shook his head and pulled you back into his embrace. “I don't care about any of that now.”

“Ah, so sex solves everything?”

“Of course not. But I do know you wouldn't have sex with me if you didn't still have feelings for me.”

“Presumptuous.”

“Was I wrong? As far as I know, you hate casual hookups.”

“That was before. How do you know I never hooked up in the last few years?”

“I do know you never dated anyone after me,” he grinned confidently and you were dumbfounded. “Why was that?”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “Stanley needs to zip his mouth, seriously.”

You huffed, leaning on his chest and letting him inhale more of your scent.

“I'm sorry, baby,” he cooed after a few minutes just quietly cuddling. “I'm sorry that I wasn't the safe haven you needed me to be.”

“No, I am sorry for hurting you. You didn't deserve that. You've been nothing but good to me. And somewhere along the way, you were too good for me and I tend to ruin everything that is good.”

Mark buried his face on your neck again.

“I kept thinking about you, you know. That's why I never really moved on. I kept thinking that maybe if I opened up to you it wouldn't be hard to give this city a chance. Maybe if I let you in, we could be happy even when I'm away. Maybe if I trusted you to accept me for who I am, I wouldn't be so miserable.”

“What if we try again?”

“Mark, I can't possibly put you through that again,” you complained, turning to face him but he captured your lips, shutting you up until you were weak and vulnerable underneath him again.

Your stay was extended and during that, you let Mark reel you in, showering you with the love he wished he had given you during those missed times. Your days were filled with reminiscing and reliving your youth by revisiting the old places you used to go to and doing the things you used to love doing with him. It was fun and you found yourself wishing time would stop for the two of you. Sometimes you think about not leaving, but you know there is no life for you here. Your love for Mark may be a valid reason to stay, but love alone is not enough to be content with your life. You have already established yourself in New York and that's where you are content with your life. The happiness part is still a work in progress, but you've achieved a lot so far and you can't risk all of that for love alone.

On your last day in the city, a lawyer came looking for you in your hotel room and told you about an inheritance. The visit prompted you to visit your old house, now abandoned after your uncle went to jail and your aunt died of lung cancer caused by secondhand smoking a few years ago. You were told that it is yours now, given that you were her only living relative and your uncle doesn't qualify because they were never married. You have a choice to keep it or sell it. You decided to sell it, not even hesitating. You never had fond memories there anyway.

“Wow, how long has this place been abandoned?” Mark asked as he followed you inside. The place was clean and you assumed they had it cleaned out after your aunt died. You've been told she died in the hospital but she also had a bad case of hoarding junk and the house was a complete mess before authorities were called in. Despite the neat appearance, cobwebs covered the ceilings and dust sat on every piece of furniture, a sign that no one had lived there for a long time.

“Long enough,” you replied, walking towards your bedroom. Even that was cleaned up. Nothing else remained except for a few pieces of furniture that had always been there. You didn't waste time reminiscing or looking around because you knew there was nothing to find there. You took everything important to you when you left so there really is nothing else to take.

Except maybe for the picture on the wall. One that is of your mother and your aunt. They look so much like each other with just a few distinguishing pictures. You took it from the wall and dusted it, tucking it on your side before turning to Mark. You gave him a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes.

“Let's go?”

“Let's go,” he nodded, offering his hand for you to hold on to.

You thought you would have a breakdown in there once you remember everything that pained you and everything that ruined your girlhood. You thought you'd fall back into the abyss of misery, but you didn't. You didn't even feel anything at all other than a slight tug when you saw your mother's picture. The house will be sold and you will never need to go back there again. Ever.

“Time to go,” Mark smiled at you after he dropped you off at the airport.

“It's been fun, Mark,” you told him, smiling bitterly at the thought of leaving your love behind. Again.

Mark laughed derisively as if trying to deny the situation. “No. Not again, y/n. I thought we're gonna work this out?”

“I've made a life for myself there, Mark. There's nothing for me here.”

“Me? I am here.”

You sighed, reaching to touch his cheek. “If I could, I'd take you with me anywhere. I want you as much as I want the life I've been dreaming of. But I've made big leaps, Mark. I can't jump back down.”

“I understand. But would you think about it? You don't have to live here. We can make this work, you know. I can go to you.”

“It won't make me feel any better to know that you're sacrificing your own life for me,” you sighed.

“I'm not. I'm making my own choices.”

You just smiled and gave him a chaste kiss on the lips. “I love you.”

“I'll call you.”

“Sure. You can do that.”

He scooped you up in a hug and kissed you before you went to board your plane.

Two weeks in, you met Nadine for brunch in New York. She had been complaining about losing you to Mark so she travelled just to see you.

“So, you're like, LDR?”

“The LD part, yes. But we're not really in a relationship. He wants to, but I kept discouraging it.”

“Why?”

You gave her a stern gaze. “Because we're grown adults now, Nadine. We can't casually date around anymore.”

“Of course we can. But you won't because you're thinking of dating with the prospect of marriage.”

“No, I'm not.”

“Not explicitly, but you're doing it subconsciously,” she argued, pointing to her temple. “I can hear it in your tone.”

“Since when were you an expert on my tone?” you ridiculed, shaking your head.

“Since college? You never really changed that much, hun.”

You shook your head again, giving up on the argument and eating your food. Nadine checked her phone for a second and pointed out the date.

“Today's the 17th. Mark should be here by now,” she quipped, showing you her screen.

“In New York? Why?” you questioned, curious.

“Yeah. The last time we talked, he said he'd fly back on the 15th. Why do you think I chose now to come? So we could all meet up.”

“I'm sorry, fly back? Why would he be flying back?”

Nadine looked at you in surprise. “You don't know? He never told you?”

“No. He never told me anything about coming here.”

Nadine dropped his fork and covered her mouth in surprise. “Oh my god, I wonder why he didn't? He's been living here since last year. He got a job in an art museum.”

“He did what?”

Nadine sighed and shook her head disapprovingly. “For someone who's big on career and aspirations, you seem to not care about Mark's at all.”

“Hey, I do. We just don't talk about that stuff,” you defended, taking your phone out to see if he ever mentioned coming to New York.

Indeed, you don't talk about careers, mainly because you were reluctant to tell him you were doing so well as a professor and you didn't want to hear he has a good, stable job back home. Hearing that would make you feel even more upset about the fact that he can't leave that city and you can't go back either. So you avoided it. But why wouldn't he even mention that he's literally in the same state as you are when he knows it's a big deal for you?

Nadine told you where Mark worked and what his job was, then you headed there right after brunch. You realized it wasn't even that far and you're not just in the same state but in the same city! Just a couple blocks from your workplace was the museum where Mark worked as an art curator. And ever since last year, you have visited that museum more than a dozen times as a field study with some students. You walked in there, looking around the familiar building. When you spotted a lady who looked like a staff, you approached her to ask.

“Hi. I'm looking for Mark Lee. He's an art curator here, I believe,” you began and she gave you a kind look of discouragement.

“I'm sorry, but it won't be possible to meet an executive staff without an appointment. May I know what this is for? Maybe I can arrange something.”

You took out your ID and showed it to her. “I'm an Art professor. I just have a few things to discuss with him.”

“Oh, Miss y/n! I know you,” she smiled at you. “You're from NYU. If you would just follow me through here, I'll show you to his office.”

You thanked her and followed her into the elevator that brought you up several floors up the building.

“Mr. Lee is fairly new here but he's done a pretty good job so far. Everyone's just amazed at his efficiency and his knowledge of Art History,” she told you as you walked through a corridor and a few offices before she stopped in front of one door with Mark's name on it.

“Mr. Lee is right here, in this office.”

The staff knocked and called out to him. When you heard Mark's voice from inside, you felt your heart jump nervously in your chest.

“Go ahead.”

You walked through the door and found Mark buried in some papers. When he looked up, his eyes widened in recognition of you and he immediately stood up to approach you.

"Hi!" he blurted, amazement evident on his face.

“Hey,” you greeted shyly, looking around his office. He pulled you into a tight hug and whispered how much he missed you several times.

“What are you doing in my workplace?” You couldn't help but smile at the sudden surge of nostalgia.

“Stalking you?”

He seemed to remember the same thing because he laughed. “Are you a regular here?”

“Yes but, I actually came to stalk you.”

“You're a really pretty stalker.”

Mark halted his work, calling for a break before he took you to a sandwich place across the street. Then you sat on a bench in front of a fountain that was also right in front of his workplace. He told you he was swamped with work as soon as he came back and he'd been meaning to surprise you if you hadn't surprised him first. He also said he knew you were a regular and that you always came from time to time to tour your students. But at the time, he was still pretty mad at you, so he just sneaked peeks at you.

“Like a stalker?” you quipped, making him laugh just as he was trying to drink.

“No, not in a creepy stalkerish way. But yeah, I guess.”

You smiled absent-mindedly, watching him eat through his sandwich like he had been starved. It was an adorable sight and the emotions filling your heart were satisfying and beautiful.

He soon noticed you gawking. “Oh, sorry. I skipped breakfast.”

“Why are you curating art?” you asked instead of responding to his apology.

“What do you mean? It's my job.”

“You're the art.”

Mark burst out laughing again for a good minute, hitting his thigh several times while you wore a smug smile, proud to have made him laugh so much.

“Sorry,” he blurted but then he started laughing again. “Gosh, y/n. You're a really bad flirt.”

“But I'm a good comedienne,” you boasted before taking a bite from your sandwich.

Mark started laughing again and you happily watched, looking out at the sky. The two of you sat on that bench, hand in hand, eating an amazing New York sandwich. Together, somewhere far from your old city, somewhere you can both be happy.

“Oh, god, I love you,” he blurted as soon as he recovered from too much laughing.

“Say that again.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

“I love you.”

You giggled. “One more time.”

“I love you.”

“That's nice. Again.”

“Alright. Now you're just messing with me!”

“Say it, Mark Lee!”

“I love you!”

[Fin]

[sporesgalaxy]

updated a little flashback Vladlence script thing that I started writing in like 2020. some of you may remember this comic

Smile :)

•••

[The year is 1990-something-- before Vlad betrayed and temporally displaced Silence that one time. Vlad and Silence (in human disguise) are at some kind of businesspeople shindig. They've stepped outside for some air and are basically alone. Vlad has a glass of wine.]

S: Lord. I'd forgotten how tedious these are.

V: They're really not worth it unless you can drink. It was so much worse when my parents would drag me to these as a child.

S: Hm. I didn't mind my father's business functions, but my ex-husband's were insufferable.

V: [chokes on wine] "Ex-husband?"

S: Well... "Ex" in that my untimely departure left him a widower, yes.

V: ...is he a--

S: [rolling eyes] NO, he is not a ghost.

V: Still! How have you not mentioned him once?

S: [shrugs] It didn't come up.

V: That isn't fair! I've spilled my guts to you for your research. You HAVE to tell me something!

S: You're being ridiculous.

V: ...That's it. I've decided.

S: Decided what?

V: The favor you owe me for bringing you along as my plus-one tonight!

S: Oh, please! All I've learned this evening is that you're still capable of being intoxicated by normal amounts of human alcohol.

S: Now, you've learned that I had a husband once, a very long time ago. I'd say we're already even.

V: [pouts]

S: Why does it even matter to you?

V: .........if I say, will you tell me more about your human life?

S: I--! Oh, fine. Whatever. Yes.

V: Because marriage is--! It's--! Marriage is everything! It changes your whole life! You finally have someone to always be there for you, in sickness and in health and all that.

V: How could you just...[mimes swatting something out of the air with his free hand] move on, after that? It makes no sense!

S: [tuts, rolls her eyes] You're insufferably romantic, you know that?

S: Marriage is not "everything." My marriage had everything to do with finances, and precious little to do with anything else.

V: ...Oh.

S: That's less common these days, I'll admit, but forgive me if I still feel you're overselling it.

V: ...Well...Still, he was there, right? At least you had someone.

S: [annoyed] Sure. Can we talk about something else now?

V: Did you have a family? [leans against the balcony, resting his chin on a hand, smiling expectantly]

S: [frowning] ...Not the change of subject I was hoping for.

V: [just keeps looking expectantly]

S: [sighs heavily] [trying to be annoying on purpose] Well, I had a mother and father, two siblings-- both of which died in infancy-- and on my mother's side, my cousins--

V: [impatiently] I meant with your husband!

S: [twitches] ...No. It was just he and I, and then I died.

V: Oh.

S: [snarky & bitter] ...Then, he remarried a nice young lady who got to keep all of our money. They, I believe, had several children together.

[Silence is quiet in a sort of uncomfortable angry way. Vlad, oblivious, gets lost in his own thoughts.]

both: .......

V: [CLEARLY thinking about Maddie. a bit dreamily] ...do you ever wish that you could do it all over?

[Vlad is looking at the sky, and doesnt see the judgemental, incredulous look Silence immediately shoots him]

V: That you had more time to make it work?

S: [humorless laugh] HAH! No!

V: [snapped out of his reminiscing, looks at her, surprised] No?

S: [like its an uninteresting, obvious fact] My life didn't have anything worth going back to.

V: [disgust directed at the percieved failure of the faceless husband figure] He was that bad?

S: [waves dismissively] No, no. Our marriage wasn't bad. It just wasn't--

S: ......well, it wasn't much of anything, I suppose.

V: [furrows eyebrows] Hm.

S: [after a short pause] I much prefer this.

V: [for some reason, his heart skips a beat] This?

S: [a bit frantically] My research! In the Ghost Realm. The achievement, the influence, you know. Much more fulfilling.

V: [nods, a bit spacey because of a weird inexplicable feeling he's having] Ah. I see.

[hananosami]

Beautiful Boy

synopsis: Gojo Satoru finally proposes to his long-term girlfriend, and his students find out about how prudent his proposal was. As the students bicker with their teacher about how unromantic his proposal was, his girlfriend couldn't help but feel nostalgic upon watching this interaction. This leads her to reminiscence about the times when Gojo was a father figure to their adoptive son, Megumi.

One of the moments that she holds dear to her heart, would be when Dad Gojo sings to Megumi- in an attempt to help him fall asleep.

Reader and Gojo have been in a relationship since high school, and took care of Megumi and his sister together.

word count: 1.5k +

Author's Note: This is a chapter taken out of my fanfic that I wrote, but I essentially wrote it almost like a stand alone piece. Gojo acting like a dad is one of those things that I hold very close and dear to my heart. I really poured my heart out into this one.

"What kind of proposal was that?!" 

Nobara yelled, as she was holding unto your hand and was inspecting the ring quite intently. She'd twist your hand, to see how much the ring would shimmer under the light. If you were being honest, it was probably for the best to never mention that the two of you had actually lost the ring and it took quite a bit of time to look for it. Thankfully Satoru imbued some of his cursed energy into the ring, making it a tidbit easier to look for. 

Maki would then attack his teacher as well, telling him that you deserved better than just some measly proposal. Now, that was out of character for the green haired woman, but she just had so much love for you- so she too, wanted nothing less than for you to receive what you deserved. 

"You better propose to her again, Satoru!"

"Shake!"

"Yeah sensei, for a romantic, you'd think you'd get the hang of this by now.."

Now, even Yuta was also greatly disappointed by his teacher. But Gojo took it all, he'd cling unto Megumi, with fake tears in his eyes. "'Gumiiiii~ Help meee! They're attacking your precious 'dad'!" And you couldn't help but snicker at how the raven haired boy rolled his eyes, "She really did deserve better, you know?" Then Gojo clutched unto his chest, right where his heart would be. "My own son, on their side?!" He'd gasp, as he put a hand on his forehead, acting like he was about to faint.��

You couldn't help but laugh at the situation that was unfolding itself in front of you, they were more mad than you were. But as you watched the interaction between the kids and their sensei, you couldn't help but feel nostalgic at the thought of how these were essentially his kids. Children that he has essentially raised, and fought for in front of the council. One might even argue that Gojo Satoru has been a better father figure to them, than anybody else was.

But Gojo never saw himself as a fatherly figure, nor could he ever imagine himself having his own children. It was something that you've always known, something that the two have talked about when talking about the future. Sure, there would be moments in time that he'd get baby fever and want a kid of his own- but the truth of the matter is, he'd be too worried for their safety if it ever came to fruition.

He could also never see himself actively being there, being thrown into missions that the higher-ups would send him to- with no regard to the days he has taken off from work. But he knew, that if you were ever got pregnant on accident again, he'd take full responsibility. Even if he was never sure of the future, he'd make his priority to always be there for you. 

But you saw him under a different light, you knew that Gojo was always meant to become a father. Despite his upbringing, he was always one step ahead of proving himself to be a better man than his father could've ever been. He's already proved himself to be such a good man, at the ripe age of eighteen, when he took someone in that wasn't even blood-related to him in anyway. Then you'd see it, the way he'd raise the two children and that's how you knew- he'd make an amazing father.

"The monsters gone, he's on the run and your daddy's here.."

You'd hear a soft voice sing from inside of the bedroom, peeking in, you'd see your twenty year old lover sing to the raven haired boy. "Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.. Beautiful boy.." You couldn't help but smile, as you watched your snowy haired lover caress the younger boys fluffy hair, noticing that the little boy's eyes were slowly fluttering closed. 

"Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.. Beautiful.. Boy.." He'd whisper in a hum-like sound, as Megumi's entire body rested against Gojo's side. Gojo smiles, as he slowly removes himself off of Megumi's bed. He snuggly tucks the little boy in bed, before-

"Goodnight, 'Gumi.. See you in the morning.."

Gojo never knew that you noticed these little things that he did for the children, maybe because by the time he'd left Megumi's room, you'd act like you just came home from work; acting clueless as if you didn't see how gentle he was with Megumi. You wanted him to figure it out on his own, for him to see that he would make a great father. But despite his high and almighty, egotistic act, you always knew what he thought of himself. That he always had thoughts of never being good enough to have kids of his own, and you knew that it was his deep-rooted fear of becoming like his father.

You always begged to differ, especially when the closed off boy called him 'papa' for the very first time. It was 2011 and you remember that day so vividly, Satoru wasn't even suppose to come- because he had been held back due to a sudden mission he was sent to by the higher-ups. You saw how disappointed Megumi was, especially since he was graduating elementary school and was now entering middle school- but he wasn't surprised. Satoru was an extremely busy man, especially now, since he is rising up in the ranks- and Megumi knew that. So the young boy never bothered him with such trivial things, like his elementary school graduation; he would have many more anyways. 

"Meeeeguuuumiiiiii~!"

Then there it was, the voice of you incredulously handsome lover. "Satoru?!" You'd turn around in surprise, to see the man running to the both of you wearing a black suit and flowers in hand. Turning to Megumi, you'd see the way his eyes widened and the little sparkle that manifested within them. "Did you really think I'd miss your graduation?" He'd ask theoretically, as he scooped the little boy into his arms, nuzzling his cheek against the little boys. 

"If you're here, then what about the mission?" You'd ask, noticing the way women would whisper amongst themselves. But you already knew what they were gossiping amongst themselves, and it would be how such a good-looking young man could already have a child; it wasn't your first time in this rodeo. "Ohhhh! Yeah! I finished it quickly~!" He'd glee, causing for you to furrow your eyebrows. 

"Oh Satoru.." He'd cut you off, knowing well that you were worried about him. "I'm alright sweetheart, besides I'm the strongest! And there's no way I could ever miss such an important occasion." He smiles, reaching a hand up to ruffle your hair softly. But the little boy in his arms was just in complete awe, genuinely surprised he was here. "Papa", the little boy spoke, causing for Satoru to turn his attention his adoptive son- flabbergasted.

"What.. What'd you just-" 

But before he could ask, he was cut off. "Excuse me?" A young beautiful woman spoke, as she stood by your lover's side. "I was just wondering if you were available to get some coffee-.." Causing Megumi to wrap his arms tighter around Satoru's neck, "Mama and papa are taking me out today to go eat in a restaurant." Which now left you stunned, especially at how out of character Megumi was acting. The young boy never acted out, nor has he ever called Satoru 'papa' before. You watched as the young woman's face flushed red in embarrassment, "Oh god! I didn't realize you two were his parents, I thought you were just relatives of his. I'm so sorry!" She spoke in a hurry, before quickly excusing herself out of that situation. 

Satoru turned his attention to the young boy, who was looking at him with that same stoic look. "'Gumi, call me that again.." But instead of hearing 'papa' leave his lips, his face only contorted into a disgusted one. "Come on 'Gumi! One more time!" He'd whine, nuzzling his cheek once more against his adoptive sons. You'd watch the two in amusement, content, as you watched Megumi have that soft and playful smile plastered unto his lips. It made you feel at ease, knowing that Megumi would never refer to Satoru as his father if he never meant it, and you knew it took a lot out of him to do so. 

And that's how you knew, that Gojo Satoru would be an amazing father.

[melishade]

Attack on Prime New Age Anthology: Eren Jaeger

Main Story

Return to that Sick Mind III

Return to that Sick Mind IV

Reminiscing

The Survey Corps finally talk about Eren Jaeger.

"One, two, three, four, five, six." Miko counted as she started doing push ups on the floor.

"Work out regiment?" Onyankopon asked.

"Well I have to stay in shape somehow," Miko spoke in a strained voice, "Being cooped up in this box sucks."

"Don't you where an invincible suit of armor?" Sasha recalled.

"Yeah, but doesn't mean jack shit when I'm trying to detain people," Miko retorted, "Majority of the time we have to capture enemies of the state alive for interrogation. Sometimes we do kill them, but we use guns."

Miko grunted and she started to do push ups with one hand. "Apex Armor's for like...emergency uses only. Like stopping an atomic bomb from going off or fighting against rogue Decepticons."

"I'd join you in your workout regiment, but I am a little busy," Hanji commented as they used their fork to stab a hollow spot in the floor boards.

"Yeah, tearing up your quarantine space," Rafael remarked, watching a class lecture online from his bed.

"Hey, my space. I can do what I want," Hanji proclaimed.

"News flash: it's the U.S. governments space. You will get in trouble," Rafael retorted.

"Well I was kidnapped, so-!" Hanji blew a raspberry at Rafael before going back to wiggling their fork into the floor boards.

"Mature!" Rafael shouted at them.

"Anyone else want to join me?" Miko asked as she stopped doing push ups and pushed her legs off the ground to do a handstand.

"I'm...not really that athletic," Willy answered.

"Hm." Miko looked him up and down. "I can see that, silver spoon."

"Excuse me?" Willy was confused at the idiom.

"Anyone else?!" Miko offered to the rest of them.

"Well, I can't really see you," Historia declared.

"Anyone across from me want to mirror me so Historia can see?" Miko asked.

"I can try," Sasha offered.

Jack ignored Miko's invite, staring at his phone, specifically the text messages from Ultra Magnus, telling Jack to ask about Eren. He didn't want to. He really didn't want to. He heard them say that they weren't even ready to talk about it, and the last thing that he wanted to do was push, but the video. The video has been bothering him since Ultra Magnus sent it. And Jack had an urge to know the truth. But what would learning entail? Would they get mad at him? Would they feel betrayed? Would they?

"You've been staring at that thing a lot lately," Armin remarked, causing Jack to look at him.

"Uh...yeah...I was just looking at texts," Jack explained, trying to not elaborate further.

"Oh really? Who's texting you?" Miko asked, causing Jack to internally swear.

Jack looked back at his phone. "I've been texting the Autobots and-!"

"What?!" Hanji's forked snapped into two at Jack's explanation, "Damn it!"

"You've been in contact with the Autobots since you got your phone back?" Armin asked, "Did they tell you anything about Optimus or Megatron?"

"What about Arcee?!" Sasha demanded, "Is she okay?!"

"Arcee's recovering. Wheeljack is pretty much done. Optimus and Megatron are...stable. I haven't been given too much about them. I think they don't want us to get our hopes up just yet," Jack explained.

"Jack, why didn't you tell us?" Rafael asked as he grabbed his water cup and took a sip.

Jack took a deep breath and sighed. "The Bots have been wanting to know more about your guys' world and about Megatron...they looked into his mind."

"WHAT?!" Miko screeched as she lost her balance on her hand stand and banged her ankle on the cabinet drawer while Rafael spat out his water.

"Oh fuck me!" Miko grabbed her ankle in pain.

"Who looked into his head?!" Rafael shot up.

"Bee," Jack reluctantly replied.

"WHAT?!" Rafael screamed even louder, "Why the hell would Bumblebee look into his mind again?! Megatron literally hijacked his body!"

"You think I know the answer to that?!" Jack yelled at Rafael.

"Can someone explain how the hell titans are able to look into each other's minds?!" Kenshin demanded.

"The cortical psychic patch," Jack explained, "It's a device created by Megatron's manic scientist Shockwave. You can use it to peer into the minds of anyone on the other end of the device and see their memories, and they can't make any alterations to the memories. But if you don't disconnect the device properly, it can fry your brain, or in Bumblebee's case, trap one of the users into the other's mind. It's how Megatron took over his body in the first place."

"...Can I see the device?" Hanji raised their hand.

"WHOA!" Miko screamed at them.

"What is wrong with you?!" Rafael yelled.

"Hanji!" Onyankopon scolded them.

"Fine! Such a touchy subject!" Hanji grumbled.

"If the memories seen can't be altered, then the Autobots should now know we're telling the truth," Armin surmised, "So what? Are they still going to ask us about him?"

Jack sighed in defeat. "They don't want to know about Megatron changing. They want to know about Eren."

Armin, Hanji, Sasha, and Historia grew tense at that.

"Magnus needs to compile a full report and need as much information on him as possible," Jack explained, "Apparently, Megatron says his feelings to Eren are negative-!"

"Yes, Megatron hates Eren's guts and is jealous of him. It's no secret," Hanji rambled.

"Ha?" Miko questioned.

"He sent me this." Jack pressed the play button on the recording from Megatron's mind and pressed it up against the glass. Everyone in the area either heard the audio of Optimus speaking, or also saw the visuals that came with the audio.

"...Optimus tried to convince Eren to stop before he started the Rumbling?" Willy was taken aback by the audio that played.

"Optimus always chooses peace first." Jack pulled the phone back and locked the phone, "But...if you guys don't want to provide an explanation, I can tell Magnus and try to push it off."

"...It does sound like he could approach us later on the topic," Historia assumed.

"Probably." Jack shrugged his shoulders. "Seriously, I can push it off-!"

"Let's just get it out of the way," Armin relented, sitting in the space where the glass and the wall met.

Jack felt guilty, decided to sit down on the bed and rub his knees. "Anyone here that doesn't know much about Eren?"

"I didn't really talk to Eren that much," Onyankopon confessed, "Although Yelena wanted to in order to try and get Eren to agree to Zeke's plan."

"Me and Gabi have known him as an enemy," Colt explained.

"I...vilified him too," Willy reluctantly admitted.

"I only had interactions with Eren twice," Kenshin confessed, "The first time I was really just trying to mess with him because I noticed the way he was getting angry every time I talked to Mikasa. Second time, he had come to Hizuru with Wheeljack, and my dad asked him to come with me on a horse ride to the next town over. We had a interesting conversation about religion and god...I noticed how...easily agitated he got when we talked. How he succumbed to his anger whenever talking about something he hated or seeing someone he didn't liked...Maybe I should have said something when I was sending letters to Optimus..."

"...Eren used to be quite passionate about killing all of the titans and freeing humanity when we were training together," Historia explained, "He hated them with a passion. But...when we learned about the truth about humanity, it really messed with him. The passion and fire he had in his eyes began to dim....There was a situation with the power of the titans. Eren had the powers of the Founding Titan, but couldn't use it because he wasn't of royal blood. I have royal blood, but if I were to take the Founding Titan, I would have been a prisoner of the vow renouncing war. But I could still make contact with Eren and activate some memories...Eren came to me one night...afraid...he said he was seeing things and wanted to touch my hand in order to activate the power. When he did, he just...shut down completely...and left...I don't think he was the same after that. And I blame myself for it."

"...We used to call him a 'suicidal maniac'." Sasha chuckled sadly at the memory, "Cause he would always try to get himself killed when trying to do dangerous things. Maybe when we thought humanity was extinct, it could have been considered honorable or just straight up reckless. But...he went off on his own on a foreign continent, planned an attack against world leaders without talking to us first...he attacked us...and told Mikasa he hated her. And he..."

Sasha quickly wiped her tears. "Why the hell would he kill Connie? They were close, and Connie only had us left. His whole village was turned into titans. We were his family, and Eren just killed him. I don't understand."

"...I wish I could have understood too." Hanji confessed, their efforts to pry the floorboard open long forgotten, "I used to do experiments with Eren to help him figure out his titan powers. I have a bombastic personality though, and I can push on things if I'm really passionate about it. Optimus usually had to keep me in check and get me to respect Eren's boundaries. Eren...used to be a good kid. He was passionate about joining the Survey Corps. He still wanted to do the experiments with me to find out about his powers. I thought he trusted me....I thought he trusted Optimus. Optimus seemed to be the only one who could really reign him in. Eren used to hate him, and one day he suddenly begged Optimus to start teaching him how to fight. Hell, Optimus apparently told us that Eren called him 'Dad' one time."

Hanji chuckled in defeat. "But what do I know? I mean, Eren activated the Rumbling. He took out my eye and stabbed Optimus and broke his mask. Some 'mad scientist' I am. Right?"

Jack turned his attention to Armin, and he saw him curl up into a ball and turn his head away from the glass. "I think...I can send this over to Magnus to get him to leave you guys alone for the time-!"

"Eren was my first friend," Armin confessed, "I used to get picked on a lot when I was younger for being weak, but I always refused to run from those fights. Eren actually spotted me one day and asked me why I didn't fight. And I basically told him I didn't run away. That facing the danger was my way of fighting. He asked me my name, and later he brought me to his home to eat food there. He later took me home with his dad and we just became friends after that."

"If you don't mind me asking, how does Mikasa play into this?" Rafael asked, "She's close to Eren too, right?"

"I don't think that's a good thing to-!"

"When Mikasa was nine, her parents were murdered right in front of her, and she was going to be sold into sexual slavery," Armin cut Hanji off. Everyone except the Survey Corps grew mortified at this information, "Eren managed to go after her and kill two of the kidnappers, while Mikasa found the will to kill the third one. Grisha and Eren brought her home and made her part of the family."

"...dude," Miko could only muster.

"So...why was Eren angry all the time?" Rafael asked again, wanting to change the topic.

"It wasn't always like that. When we were younger, Eren was pretty apathetic as a kid. He didn't really have any dreams or goals he wanted to obtain...that wasn't until I showed him about the outside world. Learning about the outside world was forbidden in the walls, but my grandpa had a book on it and I wanted to show Eren. I was excited to show Eren, and it was the first time I've really seen excitement on Eren's face."

Armin smiled a little at the memory. "We wanted to go see the outside world, and Eren wanted so badly to join the Survey Corps to do it. He wanted to fight all the titans and not live the rest of his life behind those walls. But...revenge later became apart of it. When...when the Warriors attacked Shinganshina, Eren's mom was eaten by a titan right in front of him, and he wanted nothing more than to eradicate the titans from the world."

"We joined the Trainee Corps when we were twelve. We were orphans at that age and military training was the only real option for us to take. We trained together, made new allies and friends, but when the Warriors attacked again, and I almost got eaten by a titan, Eren jumped in and saved my life, getting eaten right before my eyes. I don't really know how Eren awakened his powers. Maybe because he got injured before he was eaten. I don't know. Optimus had grabbed me in that moment and taken me away from the danger in my hysteria. But even though, Optimus and Eren worked together to stop the titan invasion. Optimus was one of the first people to show any real compassion to him when everyone was scared of him for his powers. He treated him with kindness and civility. I think Eren looked up to Optimus because he didn't have any other parental guidance. Optimus listened to him and made him feel heard."

Armin didn't know why he was rambling. He didn't know why he was talking too much, but he just wanted to get all of this off of his chest. Get rid of it and not talk about it ever again. "But...there were so many things that I missed...or chose not to notice. When we overthrew the government. Eren wanted to take his own life and I didn't notice. But it was Megatron of all people that did. He noticed and stopped Eren from taking his life. And then my best friend who I wanted to see the world with was going to die in eight years because of the titan curse. And there was nothing that I could do about it. And the outside world we dreamed of never existed, and it was full of other people that wanted us gone."

Armin laughed bitterly. "But I wanted peace. Optimus wanted peace. We all wanted peace. But..." Armin remembered those words that were told to him. Told to him in the Paths by him. "Eren didn't believe that peace was possible. I think with his powers, he saw futures that were coming into fruition, and conflict kept happening over and over again...I don't think Eren saw a point in making peace anymore, and just wanted to act selfishly to try and see the world I showed him in that book all those years ago.”

Armin started to cry. "And I...refused to notice or even do anything about it. I kept giving Eren the benefit of the doubt. So much so that, once again, Megatron was warning us that Eren was dangerous and needed to be dealt with. Megatron went out of his way to save us and warn us and I didn't listen because I didn't want to believe that my best friend was capable of such cruel and horrible things. And I hate him! I hate that he tried to destroy everything out of selfishness! That he told Mikasa he hated her! That he killed millions of people and Connie! But some part of me still cares about him and I hate that it does! But all I feel is hatred for him! Isn't that so hypocritical of me?! That I want Megatron to live, knowing what he's done and how it's so much worse than Eren, but hate my own best friend for following the exact same thing that Megatron did?!"

Armin froze when he saw everyone staring at him in shock. Armin finally noticed the tears streaming down his face and rubbed them away.

"Tell Ultra Magnus, that I don't want to talk about Eren anymore." Armin stood up, "Never again."

Armin walked over to the bathroom and shut the door behind him, leaving everyone to sit in the uncomfortable silence.

"Yeah, let's make it a rule to not speak about Eren anymore, especially since the wounds are still fresh." Hanji pointed to the bandages around their eye.

"Yep." Rafael said.

"Totally." Miko agreed.

"...Got it." Jack relented. He stared at his phone and type one final text before throwing it aside.

I should have never asked about him.

[bunnyunderthebed]

the rain streams down the window, and i find you sitting by it, mesmerized by the trails each drop leaves on the glass. you hear me pass you on my way to the kitchen, and wonder out loud how many times you've actually taken the time to appreciate it. i offer from across the space that i didn't until it was taken away from me. you turn to look at me, asking how something so simple could've been taken from me. i don't reply right away, engrossed in the construction of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. i walk over and sit across the couch from you, legs stretching into the negative space between yours and mouth biting into the late afternoon snack.

when your objective is to keep someone in a place, glass becomes a liability. for all the benefits natural light brings, the risk you take by providing it is too great. the solution, then, is to use something that can withstand abuse. the familiar square lattice of metal wire gives the game up quickly, reminiscent of elementary school classrooms; acrylic plastic—that space-age relic—gives you durability with just as much transparency as its competitors. though, if you buy something that can take abuse, it's because you expect it to take abuse.

and abuse it does, in fact, take. caged animals become neurotic, anyone with a pet can tell you that. neurosis is a silent, insidious worm; harnessing all the emotions repressed by the environment and transmuting them into aggression and destructiveness. so day after day, year after year, inmate after inmate, the scratches and dents and pockmarks number more and more until the hour comes where raindrops can no longer be seen and loved from the inside.

that's pain i didn't think anyone would feel, let alone myself. simple human joys are missed so much more severely, don't you know, than any luxury paper and coin can purchase. that's the true punishment, the hard lesson they drilled into me and the hundreds of children i broke bread with: there is no pleasure that cannot be withheld, there is no dream that cannot be crushed, there are no wings that cannot be clipped, so tread lightly, lest you find yourself on the business end of a gun you cannot run from.

i had been staring out the window, lost between rambling thoughts and bites of savory sweetness so long i didn't see you crawl over to hold me. i didn't say anything else, i simply allowed myself to sink into your arms as my eyes closed. i hadn't slept that good in a long time.

[imaginidol]

Baekhyun: Second thoughts & Second Chances

Baekhyun raised the volume of his car radio as he slowed his car to a halt in front of a stoplight. The night was quiet and there were very few cars around him. He’d worked a long day, and now he couldn't wait to get home to rest for the evening.

The songs on the radio were old western throwbacks, a small station Baekhyun casually liked very much. The current song playing was Dean Martin's Everybody Loves Somebody.

Baekhyun hummed along to the song, not particularly thinking of anything at first.

It wasn't until about halfway through the second verse that Baekhyun caught up to the message behind a few of the lyrics;

Everybody finds somebody someplace, There's no telling where love may appear.

Baekhyun had found many “someone’s” at different points of his life, though none of them had ever lasted very long.

The boy reminisced on his last love,

you.

"Just a few months ago," he pondered, "we were doing so well."

Crazy how everything changes, he thought.

The light in front of him turns green, and he continues the rest of his drive home quietly lost in thought.

It wasn't until later that night when Baekhyun was sitting alone in his kitchen that he realized how much he really missed you. And it wasn't the only sudden night that he was in his sudden feels about you, either. The thought of your past relationship together would repeatedly resurface when the smallest of things reminded him of you.

Song lyrics, couples walking in public, heart-shaped donuts at a sweet shop's window.

There was always something that tied his thoughts back to you.

“Ah,” he sighed as he scrolled through your profile whilst drinking a glass of wine at his bar table.

You still look just as great as you did when I first met you.

Baekhyun sipped his wine slowly, his thoughts recalling a promise that he’d made you once, though it never really came true.

I'll always come back for you, especially when our relationship hits a rough patch. I think you're worth fighting for.

Baekhyun put his phone face-down onto the marble countertop and rubbed his eyes in frustration. When he closed his eyes, he saw you and him sharing treasured memories together, the sounds of your laughter and the feel of your soft lips against his.

When he opened his eyes, nothing more than an empty living room and the distant sound of the AC greeted him, and all the memories of you had dissipated into nothing.

What am I doing?

The tired boy poured himself a third glass of wine and began sipping it steadily. He wasn't totally buzzed yet, but he definitely would be going that route if he didn't stop thinking about you.

He decided that the only way to give himself a peace of mind was to check up on you after all these months of not doing so.

Baekhyun opened a new conversation with you on Instagram and hesitated for a moment to consider what he had to say.

What could you possibly tell someone after you broke up with them?

He feels his thumbs typing away until a half-coherent message is written out.

[Baekhyun: Hi, I hope I'm not disturbing you if I reach out like this..]

To his surprise, the <Online> bubble next to your name turns green, and he sees that you've read his message.

His heart falls heavy into his chest as he scrambles to think of what to say next, assuming and hoping you'd reply. To his surprise, you did.

[New DM: Hi Baek!! :) Long time no see!]

Baekhyun mindlessly typed away at his phone, the lingering effects of his wine eventually kicking in and convincing him to just say what he had on his mind.

[Baekhyun: I don't mean to pop up so suddenly, but I was thinking about a promise I made you that I realize now, I never kept..]

[New DM: Oh? What promise?]

Baekhyun took a deep breath before taking another long sip of his wine.

[Baekhyun: That I'd come back for you, even after the worst]

[Baekhyun: I didn't do that for you.. I guess I'm here to apologize, though maybe I should've done it more formally than over instagram]

[New DM: <is typing...>]

[New DM: Baek, it's been months since our breakup... I hope that guilt hasn't been eating you up this whole time. You deserve better..]

[New DM: But I would be lying if I said I haven't thought about you the same way this whole time]

Baekhyun felt himself relax for a moment, hoping that perhaps there would be a chance at rekindling what you once had all over again if your feeling truly were mutual.

[New DM: But I also feel like I should tell you before this conversation progresses any further... I've fallen in love with someone else...]

At that, Baekhyun puts his phone back down against the table and rests his head over his crossed over the marble counter.

And there it is...

I made the mistake of letting you go.

Baekhyun's eyes filled with drunken tears of sorrow and regret, the sound of your incoming messages making his phone buzz and the countertop vibrate.

But the exhausted and heartbroken boy did not pick up his phone again, nor was he prepared to face the conversation with you that would surely soon ensue.

He wasn't prepared to accept the fact that you'd moved on so quickly.

He wasn't prepared to accept the fact that the breakup was stupidly caused over sasaengs who'd threatened to leak your personal information online if he hadn't broken you off.

He wasn't prepared to accept not doing more with his authority.

He wasn't prepared to accept the fact that he didn't think of any other gateway to protect you, and his response was to break the beautiful relationship you once shared, and how it shattered your heart in the process.

He wasn't prepared for the worst,

losing you to someone who would now surely protect you more than he ever could.

My intentions weren't to harm you.

I wish I got to tell you this.

Instead, the oven clock in the kitchen ticked away into the night, and soft, exhausted snores eventually filled the voided air of the otherwise quiet, empty apartment.

[hotdogcabbagesausage]

HEYO, SEPHYYYY WEPPHYYYYYYYY!! HOPE YOU'VE BEEN GOOODDDD..

Anyways, *points gun to Keith in Galra form* 🔫🔫 tell me your angsty Voltron Team headcanons or he gets sprayed. with water.

HIIII ZEPHY WEPHY I HOPE YOUVE BEEN GOOD TOO!!!!!

you got it captain🫡

allura

allura and coran have nights where they talk about alfor and melenor. coran brushes her hair and tells her stories about her father and mother and she cries. she was so close to alfor and she misses him so much and having coran is the only thing she has left of altea and her family. she has only coran. and he tucks her into bed when it's finally over

when allura first got chosen as blue’s pilot, she would go down to the hangar at night by herself. talk to red, wondering why she wasn’t chosen. sometimes she would yell and sometimes she would cry but red never budged

allura mourns her people and her planet so much. everything she does, she does with them in mind. FOR them. she closes her eyes and imagines they can still see her. imagines they know she’s still fighting for them after all these years. sometimes it’s the only thing she can do to keep herself going and not let the grief crush her

keith

keith’s dad died on oct 18, a few days before his birthday. he avoided telling anyone his birthday or celebrating for so long because he didn’t want to celebrate when a few days before, he had just lost everything

keith avoided his dad’s grave after he died. he went once as a child and never again but after he met shiro, flowers started showing up on the grave that he would see when they drove around. he knew it was shiro leaving them. it meant more to him than he could ever admit

touch starved but also touch repulsed to a point. that’s why he always wears fingerless gloves. it gives him more control over who he touches and lessens the intensity of it. it’s why he stands so far from everyone else, to put a physical distance between them. to protect himself in a way

shiro

still has adam’s ring on a chain. adam may have said it would be over if he ever returned, but that never stopped shiro from wishing things had been different. never stopped shiro from loving him after years. he stays up at night playing with the ring, imagining a world where they could still be together

the nightmares got worse after he was placed back into a body. he spent weeks agonizing over how to fix things with the others after how his clone treated everyone the way they did. he apologized and distanced himself. he felt dangerous still. like he wasn’t in control. he had nightmares where that fight with keith didn’t go as well as it did. he wakes up and keith’s blood isn’t on his hands

he never felt gentle again after he had to watch his own hands try and succeed in hurting his team. he can’t look keith in the face on bad days. the scar haunts him

hunk

cooking is enjoyable for hunk, yes, but it was also his only way to feel closer to his family in space. it was always something they would do together, as a family, back home. sometimes he secretly hopes someone will help him with cooking so it can feel like home again

he’s not good at drawing but sometimes he tries to draw his family in case he forgets their faces. the page always ends up covered in tears and he tries to remember how they all sounded but he can’t

he puts everyone before himself. to him, his own feelings don’t matter if someone else needs help. he will always put himself aside and give as much as he can

lance

every time they go to a planet with a beach, he cries when they return to the castleship. it reminds him so much of varadero and how things used to be. he spends so much time reminiscing on what things would be like without the war

always thinks twice before he shares his ideas after shiro’s clone tore into him. it wasn’t the first time he’d been made to feel stupid but it certainly stuck. he gets a little self-deprecating afterwards

he thinks everyone knows he died and they just didn’t care enough to bring it up so he doesn’t either. he loves playing up small things but when it comes down to a real issue with himself, it feels so small and unimportant that he can’t imagine sharing it with the others

pidge

really bad at socializing. it’s why she loves animals and creatures so much more. they’re simple and they’re sweet and she can’t really mess up with them. she always feels like she’s messing up with real people so she avoids them when possible

she never tells anyone because she likes coming off as tough but she misses her family just as much as the others do. losing her brother nearly crushed her and she would’ve given her life just to make sure he was okay

not many know it but she’s insecure about a lot of things. her skills being the main one. she doesn’t think she’s cut out for voltron and it contributes to her trying to leave early on

coran

the reason he’s so happy all the time is to keep allura’s spirits up. he is genuinely a silly man but he couldn’t bear to see allura lose someone else. so he retains his spark no matter what. for her

he had children before altea was lost. he doesn’t talk about them ever but he loved them more than every star in the sky. his worst nightmare is losing allura too

his heart aches in the place that alfor used to exist in. he won’t ever get into it but he did love alfor and he felt like part of the family. he always made sure coran felt welcome and sometimes its hard to look at the team and not wish he was still back on altea

romelle

genuinely not used to having friends because she only had bandor for a long time and then she was on her own. little things surprise her sometimes like hunk making her favorite food without her asking (pie), allura offering her clothes to try on, keith wanting to train with her, lance introducing her to skincare, pidge asking to practice altean with her, coran telling her his favorite stories any time she asks, and shiro always offering to listen to her struggles

she gets anxious when the others go on missions without her. she’s got abandonment issues and she’s afraid they’ll get hurt or worse. she’s always on comms when they’re away

she feels useless compared to the others sometimes. she’s not a fan of fighting and she’s no good at diplomacy. she overcompensates on bad days. cleaning, cooking, organizing. anything she can get her hands on to feel like she’s as good as the rest of the team

krolia

after the war, she tries to make up for everything she missed by overcompensating. she looks up traditional things mothers do with their kids and even if it’s stuff for 5 year olds, she tries to get keith to do them with her. but nothing can change the past

she wanted to name keith “yorak” because it was her father’s middle name. they died in the war and it was why she joined the blades. she left keith and his father because she couldn’t bear for him to lose both his parents too. but he did anyway

keith’s father was the only man she ever loved. she didn’t dare to ever try again after him because she knew he was her soulmate and she would never love like that again. she likes to think he would’ve gotten along with her parents

[44-mr-midnight-44]

Imminent Sunrise

Lost at Sea (CCCC AU) story, seventeen-hundred and twenty-one (1.721) words

A simple no stakes fluff fic where Heart and Mind talk on a rooftop and Soul stops by to reminisce.

WARNING: Canon-divergence up ahead!

(Read it on AO3! https://archiveofourown.org/works/53570137)

“(Where do we go when we die?)”

A soft layer of a muted magenta hued the horizon.

A duo of unsightly beings seated themselves at the oak brim of a tall building, tired eyes swallowing the large sight of extending ocean.

“[I feel like you ask me this at least three times every month.]”

Consumed cans of strong beverages lay awkwardly compressed, if not slightly destroyed, occasionally set into a roll by the seaside wind.

Cool dew began to appear on neighbouring plant life; quiet water sifted and shuffled atop itself and crumpled at the shore, far below their point in the sky.

“(Yeah, but I mean… Have we ever came to a solid conclusion?)” Heart asked, finger wrapped around the open side of another can. “(Reincarnation, afterlife, oblivion… do we really know, mate?)”

“[We don't, there. Will that put you to rest?]” The robotic id ruffled the other’s fluffy violet hair.

The Sun at once begun to march up the quiet distance.

A dangling blue light hung from Mind’s esca; a luminescent white eye watching.

“(I don't think so. Sometimes I wonder if you and me have had lots of previous lives, each where we were strange, out-of-place beings with no ties to the nature of this world. Or sometimes I wonder if we’re both angels, anchored to this reality without a trace of our memories until we can prove ourselves…)”

“[…Or maybe we’re just really strange animals that bear no difference to the fauna among us, and we just put ourselves on a pedestal for being supernatural.]”

Mind swallowed a sip of hardy flavour; a fine twinge of pine-like water added to his mouth.

“(You’re boring, you know that?)” Heart said, shoving his brother.

“[Watch it, I wouldn't survive a fall at this height.]” Mind smirked, steadying himself.

The waking cries of gulls had sliced through the otherwise silent morning, daybreak crossing the brightening sky.

“(Soul says when we die, we go to Heaven. What do you imagine Heaven is like? There, that should be easier.)”

“[Well… I like the thought that we would be happy. And anyone we’ve loved will be there, and if we don't love them anymore, we can love them again. All those friends we never got to see again… All of those faces we saw a final time… All of those passerby aquaintances… We’re in a state where everyone loves each other.]”

“(How boring. I like the thought that we fight until only one of us remains, and then that person gets to make the next sentient planet.)”

“[Gee, someone’s got an imagination.]”

Soft feathery appendages shifted and contorted into a fine stretch, several tiny crackles clicking from each as they lengthened.

Long violet feathers stretched from the id’s rear; swaying across the wooden rooftop.

“(Okay, but in all honesty… I think when we die, if there’s a Heaven at all, I like to think we’ll live our best lives. If you've always wanted to be a bird, congrats! You're a bird now, but you've got all the advantages of being a human that you liked. Have you always wanted to live at a waterpark? Well good news Thomas Ralph the IV, now you have a waterpark all to yourself that grows forever.)”

“[But why are we even alive then? Why would we want to exist when we could just die and then live happily forever? Seems like give or take eighty years of ‘meh’ and then forever of wonders seems pointless, don't you think?]”

“(Maybe… Maybe we only get a free trial, until the world has ended.)”

Croaks and groans of feet hitting stairs sauntered up the entrance to the hangout area.

The two ids suddenly bore a frantic expression as they scrambled to gather each can and collect them into a decently neat, insidious pile.

“{Did you two stay up again…?}” Soul said, creaky hands washing the sand from his eyes.

“[Yes.]”

“(No.)”

Trailing towards his two beloved parasites, the Host deposited his form into a comfortable slouch, and snatched a can for himself before taking a greedy string of gulps.

“{Ugh, you two brought the weak stuff.}”

“[It makes my head hurt…]”

“{Can’t believe you two came from me.}” Soul tossed the can from his palm to a long plummet down to the sand. “{…I'll clean that up tomorrow.}”

“[You’d better! Did you know fish and seagulls can get their heads stuck in those?]”

“(It’s true! I had to rescue a good few of them!)”

Soul chuckled.

“{For being such little menaces, you two really do care about everything around you…}” He spoke, words like tepid frost, both hands offering firm, soothing scritches into their hair.

“(Well, our time on this Earth is limited. Why not put what we have to good use?)”

“[We don't belong here… we weren't invited. I think it's only fair we help a tad with the housekeeping.]”

With a violet and indigo form leaning on oppositional sides of him, Soul stared out into the approaching dawn.

Their tall, birch home towered into the cold sky; a tiny island among a limitless sea.

Just little visitors in the vastness of this world. Imagine that: These little parasites are just a glimpse into the possibility of what can and can't happen.

Soul remembers the good old days, just when the two were little kids; they were no ordinary children, of course, but it brought a certain charm.

He’d just found refuge from a dark family life, and out split from him were two small souls; one hued purple, the other hued blue.

They had no mouths, but had a lot to say alright; those things sure loved to whimper and whine.

He wasn't even sure if they realised they got all their food from Soul eating overtime; he’d have to grab a lot more bites than usual to sustain them, but it was worth it for their elated faces.

“Oh!” Cameron said, a happy gaze settled on the little page scrunched between two small paws. “What is this?”

“…!” The idfant whined.

“Is it a dragon…?” He cocked his head, an awkward smile lapping at his lips.

The idfant only stared back.

“Or is it… a crocodile?”

Its face lightened.

“A saltwater croc? The one you see on those little shows you like?”

Suddenly, it was bouncing and whimpering with ecstasy.

“Oh, you did such a good job!” It didn't really. He could barely tell what was its mouth and what was its claws.

But everyone starts somewhere, don't they?

As the two idiots melted into his arms, Soul’s eyes settled on a peaceful, sleepy expression.

He didn't expect to become symbiotic in his lifetime, no-less with these two. But he’s sure happy that he got to be the one selected to be a Host.

“What are you building there, little tuna fish?” Cameron smiled, knees bent beside the indigo idfant.

“…” He removed his hand’s position on a brick, then positioning them on a stack of Legos, bundling the flimsy blocks into his palms and propping them to meet Cameron’s eyes.

“Oh!” Cameron’s hands made a rapid series of collisions. “You did that all by yourself?”

“!” Mind nodded hastily, struggling to hold his excitement within his little body.

“I’m so proud of you,” Cameron grinned, giving his hair a firm, delightful ruffle. “I could personally never get into Legos… I never quite had the attention span. But I assume for someone like you, who loves all things logical and analytical, building things that require such attention-to-detail and intricate focus must be very relaxing, yeah?”

From the looks of it, Mind just ignored everything he said.

“Heh… too many big words?”

He seemed to have appreciated the love in his Host’s voice nonetheless.

“I love you. I’ll be sure to buy you lots of Legos this Easter, alright?”

The reminiscing that poured out of him rocked to a sudden standstill as Soul felt his two ids form strokes of heavy breaths at his sides, and Soul made a little smirk.

“{Tired?}”

“(Mmm…)”

“[Kkkkkh…]”

“{That’s what I thought.}”

As a second set of arms poked from Soul’s abdomen, the two ids were collected into his grasp, and he descended the upwards-leading staircase, leading-downwards into the cosy confines of his own room.

Albeit definitely foul-smelling, kicking past the empty energy drinks that made a metal ruckus the Host then lent the two the safety of being bundled up within a large comforter.

Tucked between thick sheets, Heart sunk into Mind’s chest and limbs, the latter burying his chin onto the former’s head.

“{Before you two collapse, would you like one last story?}” Soul smiled, seated beside the cot.

“(Mm…)”

“[Yes…]”

“{Next time I'd like a ‘please’, but okay. I’ll tell you my favourite one: }”

A finger bitten by a worn fingerless glove twirled and pirouetted through the two parasites’ hair, and a simple hum drew from him.

“{Once upon a time, there was a little human child. You may know him as Cameron: Or me. He was very handsome, and very good at everything, as you may remember from yours truly. But he was very sad… and very lonely. He wasn't happy with his life. He was hurt by everyone around him. Everyone wanted to either leave or hurt him…}

“{But he didn't lose hope. He was still kind, and still decided to love. He hung on until the very end, which hasn't come yet in the story. But even then… things could still be rough. It didn't feel worth it sometimes.}

“{And one day, he felt something inside of himself. Just this crazy, burning feeling, that he had to get out of there. So he did! He went to the local beach, and walked across the sea. And he walked, and walked, and walked… until he found a new home waiting for him. And out he released two little baby ids, whom would have made all that pain worth it.}”

Heart and Mind had buried themselves into one another, their breathing hushed and heavy.

“{Alright, that's the abridged version. Go to sleep, you two. We’ll have lots of time to relax tomorrow.}” Soul cooed, crawling into his cot among the two and enveloping them to his body, his warmth seeping into them.

The lights fell to a silent darkness.

Everything was okay in the world, maybe just this once.

[greatideas-badwriter]

SasuSaku: Sacrificed To The Banished Prince Ch. 7

For the first time in her life, Sakura actually felt as though she was useful and wanted. She had a purpose, and that was to rescue Prince Uchiha from his curse.

'It'd be easier if that curse wasn't so human-like,' she thought to herself while walking by Akuma's side through the halls of the manor. It was the middle of the night, but he didn't care if she'd normally be sleeping at this time. She didn't dare say something, either.

"You're still quiet, Mouse. When will you loosen your tongue? I've become bored."

Sakura's gaze fell to the ground as they continued their leisurely stroll, "I'm sorry. Is there something you wish to speak about, Akuma?"

The demon remained quiet momentarily before he suddenly pressed the Haruno woman to the wall, leering down at her with glowing red eyes, "Tell me, Sacrifice. If you could have anything you desire, what would it be?"

Her limbs trembled fearfully as she pressed her palms to his chest. She didn't dare try shoving him away because it'd only anger him further. "D-Desire? I am happy with what I have now."

"You must be joking. You have nothing but temporary riches and a weak fiance who pretends to care for you because it's in his best interest. How can you be happy?"

"Akuma..." She breathed, sucking in a gasp when one of his hands wrapped loosely around her throat so his thumb could lift her chin. In a moment of desperation to calm his irritation, she answered honestly, "Truthfully, I never imagined having clothing or a bedroom like these. I never thought I'd be treated so wonderfully by others. All my life, that's all I've yearned for, so I don't know what else I could possibly want."

That same odd expression that'd been showing up lately crossed the demon's features. He searched her face with a frown before whispering in a tone reminiscent of one Prince Uchiha often used, "If I show you pleasures beyond your wildest dreams, would you develop a will to live?"

'What did he just say?' Sakura was only confused for a second before realizing that his goal was to ruin the prince's plans of being rid of him.

She changed the subject, "What will happen to you?"

"Have you grown to care for a demon?" The woman couldn't respond because she was too lost in his red eyes. Akuma quietly said, "I'll return to purgatory, where fate claims I belong."

"P-Purgatory?"

"That is what I said."

Even someone with little world knowledge or experience, like Sakura, could tell that Akuma was not keen on the idea. Cautiously, her fingers loosely clutched his shirt, her green eyes searching his handsome face, "Is being only allowed to live at night truly your preferred existence?"

"It is not."

"Then why-" "If this body becomes weakened and vulnerable when the full moon is high, I may be able to fully eradicate the cowardly prince and have it for my own."

'What?! Prince Uchiha never mentioned that!'

Before Sakura could verbally respond, Akuma continued, "Back on the topic of desires. You've pledged to do as I request, have you not?"

She nodded, averting her eyes nervously, "O-Of course, in exchange for you not bringing harm to anyone else."

'I don't think I'll like where this is going....'

One moment, Akuma was staring deep into her eyes, making it hard for the woman to breathe because she was so anxious and unsure of what the uncontrollable demon might do. Then, he was carrying her princess-style down the hallways until they reached the baths. Sakura's face warmed immediately when she was placed on her feet once more, and Akuma began unbuttoning his shirt. 'What is he doing?! I've never seen a man naked before.'

"Start the bath. I wish for you to attend to me as a maid might their master."

"You want me to, um, wash your hair?" Her fingers fumbled as she did as ordered. The sound of the man undressing made the hairs stand up on her arms though it was getting warm and steamy in the bathroom from the hot water.

Akuma chuckled amusedly, "Won't you look at me? This is the body of your intended, is it not?"

Sakura squeezed her eyes closed and shook her head while listening to him get into the rapidly filling tub. She was terrified to steal even a glimpse.

"Ah, my innocent little pet. Fear not," Akuma mused, "I won't force you into anything...At least for now. There's still too much unknown about your past."

When he made it known that the coast was clear, the pinkette dared to creep her eyes open before relaxing upon seeing the water had risen to the prince's upper torso. He grinned devilishly, "If you allow your eyes to wander like this, I'll have no choice but to make you mine."

'What is he talking about?' "Am I not already yours? You said that I belong to you." Cautiously, Sakura wetted the man's messy black hair, applied the expensive soap to it, and began to massage the substance into his roots.

He allowed his head to fall back, red eyes locking onto her wide green ones. He seemed genuinely intrigued, "Surely a woman of twenty-two years understands the meaning of truly belonging to someone. Are you being coy?"

Sakura was not being coy. In fact, she was completely lost. The average woman was taught about reproduction and marital duties when they first reached puberty; that way, they understood the reason behind the studies they were given on how to run a household. All of this was, of course, in preparation for the marriage they'd one day experience. Sakura was never expected to be anything other than a victim for her family, so the only schooling she'd received was how to read and write. That was when she was very young, and her mother was alive. After her mother's death, that all stopped. As a result, the woman was blissfully ignorant of all things sexual and intimate.

'I feel like a child that's too young to understand what an adult is speaking about.' "I'm...."

"Let us speak of other things lest I have a lapse in self-control."

"Yes, Akuma."

Being around this demon each evening was taking its toll on the pinkette. It wasn't that he was abusing her. In fact, other than forcing her to be in his company and referring to her in derogatory ways, he treated her better than any of her family members had. No, it was the confusion and insecurity in the knowledge that this was an actual demon, not a human.

"You're surprisingly adept at this," the topic of her thoughts breathed.

She snapped out of her deep thoughts and looked down to see Akuma had closed his eyes and relaxed with his arms on the lip of the tub. Her fingers were still massaging his scalp. The steam and warmth suddenly made her exhaustion more apparent. Her inhibitions weakened as her eyes drooped, a small smile tugging at her lips.

When she spoke, it was quiet and gentle to not disturb the calm aura of the room, "Until I arrived here, I had no one attending to me. It's been difficult adjusting to Miss Ino."

The demon remained quiet and still. She felt he wished for her to continue speaking, so she did, musing absently while continuing to wash his hair, "I feel so incredibly blessed to have had the chance to meet everyone here, even you. Regardless of how this experience comes to an end, I'm grateful that I had the chance to leave home for the first time."

"When I was young, my mother told me about so many things. She was a traveling dancer, so she visited many countries and experienced various cultures. I remember my favorite story was about her first love."

Sakura began rinsing Akuma's hair of soap, her actions and words more natural now that the anxiety had faded, "It wasn't with my father, of course. She wouldn't tell me her love's name but said it was love at first sight for them both. He was a member of the traveling group she was a part of."

She giggled, tilting her head whilst admiring the prince's elegant features, "According to her, it was like they could communicate without speaking as soon as they were introduced. I remember her telling me to look for someone who can be my friend first and my lover second when I'm of age, like how it was with them."

"If it was love at first sight, then they were never friends. These ideals are thick with naivety."

"Huh?"

The man's eyes remained closed, but he responded, "If one truly loves another, it is impossible to be friends."

Sakura disagreed entirely. In fact, she was so offended by his blatant insult to her mother that she almost said so but instead clamped her mouth closed and focused on finishing up so she could go to bed. 'What would a demon know of love?'

In the morning, Sakura was surprised to be joined by the prince at breakfast. She fumbled to her feet in order to bow, "Good morning, My Lord!"

"Did we not agree to call one another by name?"

Her face warmed as she nodded and sat down across from him at the large table, but she said nothing, 'He seems to be in a terrible mood. I should try to distance myself to not upset him.'

They ate in silence, though Sakura found the environment too tense. It was difficult to stomach anything with the heavy atmosphere that reminded her so much of home she could almost be sick. Prince Sasuke barely spared her a glance, but she did catch him glaring at her a few times before she completely lost the ability to lift her eyes from the plate. Outwardly, she was meek, pale, and trembling in fear. Inside, her mind was running swiftly.

'I had to have done something wrong, but what was it? Will he call off the engagement and send me back to my family?'

"The announcement of our engagement will be in three days at the castle. The king will hold a ball in our honor. We will leave tomorrow morning, so prepare yourself for travel."

Sakura lowered her head in response, wordlessly confirming her intention to obey. For the rest of the day, the pair avoided one another. At night, Akuma visited but allowed her to sleep instead of waking her for once. The next morning, Ino dressed Sakura up in one of the new dresses the prince had purchased for her and escorted her out to the large carriage.

"Are you not accompanying me?" The pink-haired woman asked with a frown when her handmaid began exiting the carriage after verifying she was properly seated.

Ino paused, smiling reassuringly, "There isn't enough staff here at the manor for any of the maids to come along, My Lady, but rest assured the royal family will take great care of you during your stay."

"Oh...Okay. Thank you," Sakura nodded. Ino was the closest thing to a friend she had in this life, though the pinkette wasn't foolish enough to believe the blond would put up with her pathetic antics if she wasn't ordered to by the prince. Still, that blanket of comfort would be missing amidst this trip.

The door to the carriage reopened moments later, making the poor woman jump in surprise. Prince Sasuke entered, wordlessly sitting across from her. She was so bewildered that she wasn't able to bite her tongue in time to not ask, "We're in the same carriage?"

Dark eyes flashed up to lock onto hers, making her want to shrink away in fear, "Is that a problem, Lady Sakura? I'll ride horseback if you're uncomfortable."

To Sakura, it sounded like he was threatening her not to be high-maintenance and rude, so she shook her head with wide eyes, "N-No, it's fine. I'm sorry."

Neither said another word as they began traveling. Sai and a few other guards were riding horseback while the coach was up front, outside the carriage.

The trip to the royal palace took nearly an entire day. Sakura and the prince exchanged very few words the entire time, leaving the poor woman's nerves on edge. She was too afraid to ask what she'd done to cause the sudden shift in behavior. When they were ordering dresses, Sasuke was quiet, calm, and warm, but now the silence was ice cold and calculating, like he wasn't missing a single thing she did.

By the time they arrived at the palace, it was the middle of the night. Sakura didn't expect a welcoming party because of this and suspected it was her fiance's intention to avoid such a thing by having them arrive at such an odd hour.

Though Akuma didn't to also appear upset with her, he quietly exited the carriage first and offered his hand to aid in her own exit. She nervously accepted the polite gesture, releasing his hand the moment her shoes were on the ground.

The demon's red gaze lifted from her face to behind her. She also heard approaching footsteps, so she turned, only for strong arms to envelope her in a strong hug, "Welcome, my soon-to-be niece!"  

[descenacre]

Olimar's family in Echo

(Pasha is just a name that sounds like "Peach", since Olimar is like "Mario" Gage is taken loosely from Sagittarius[originally called Sagi, then Gagi], Liba is literally Libra without the r)

Their canon personalities are pretty basic, but in Echo I'm imagining the kids both as massive nerds in their own little worlds-- Gage as someone super into exploration and mapmaking, Liba as someone who wants to be a weather forecaster

(The kids are a bit older than their original Pikmin 1, Liba is a young teenager, Gage is a young adult) Pasha is upset because her kids are growing up-- Gage wants to go travel the undiscovered world, while Liba is so enamored by her role models in the TV that Pasha feels ignored-- now, with Olimar missing, what is she to do!

The Sagittarius and Libra are star charts, maps of interstellar space, that Olimar named after his children's star signs: "I will never feel lost, when I have you two."

When you find these ship parts, you don't get their effects the same way as other parts-- they're automatically integrated without needing to take an entire day, thanks to them being so light, But the ship parts themselves don't directly give you any benefit for being integrated unlike the others. Instead, at the end of the day after collecting one of them, Olimar reminisces about his children in his Voyage Log, and the memories he had with them.

With Gage, he remembers the time they were both exploring the woods, until they got lost, and couldn't find their way home! Gage grabbed a paper and compass out of his backpack, and started to make a map of what he saw-- and as they traveled through the woods, adding more and more to the map, they finally found the edge, and made it back out into the sunlight!

After thinking about this, Olimar suddenly remembers that his radar map has a notation marker function, and decides to use what he learned from his son to draw more detailed maps of areas that the radar could not accurately chart Simply open the map in the field at any time, and your immediate visible surroundings will be drawn into the world map. Although it's a little more tedious than the radar, which can only output vague outlines of sea and landforms, it's definitely a useful tool if you want an accurate lay of the land you've already visited!

With Liba, he remembers the time they went out into the field for a picnic, gazing at the clouds in the sky. As Liba described the different types and properties of the clouds in the sky, It was so warm and cozy, that Olimar decided to take a nap... Until he was awoken by her yelling: "It's a warm front! Look at the size of those clouds! We should get out of here!" Olimar didn't immediately understand what she was talking about, but they quickly made it away to safety, moments before a terrifying freak thunder storm attacked the field!

Olimar thinks about the many peculiar ways his little girl could predict the future... and using what she told him, can now accurately predict incoming storms, an additional day out, using the knowledge she gave him.

Olimar's hope that he will one day reunite with his beloved family is the one driving force that keeps Olimar pushing through to the very end.