#and this gave me so many thoughts honestly

[nonotnolan]

Guess Who - College Edition

The week after the holidays was always a stressful time for Tyler. It had a lot going for it, of course— school hadn’t started yet, the parties would soon be picking up in full swing— but the Greek Life Traditions had the potential to be hell for a closeted gay man such as himself. Sigma Epsilon Chi had a tradition that when school wasn't in session, a handful of guys would swap bodies in pairs for the week. Everyone would try to guess who had swapped with who, and though it was only for bragging rights, some guys took it very seriously.

Once he knew that he would only be guessing, he had to admit it was actually kind of fun trying to tell who was themselves and who was pretending to be someone else. The anxiety happened when the participants were still being decided. Some of his fellow frat brothers were legacy members whose bodies were just as average as his own, but just as many of them were attractive, athletic men who rushed for the sake of the social status. The thought of having to spend time in a body far better than his own… sure, it was exciting, but how could he possibly abstain from the temptation for that long?

Well, he was about to find out. Ethan had tapped him out to be one of the swapped, and he was about to find out whose body he would be taking for the week. It wasn’t the first time that Tyler was walking down to the basement where the spell circle was carved into the concrete floor, but somehow it never got any easier. Last time he swapped with Devin, an engineering student whose body wasn’t too much of a change from his own, but he had a feeling that his luck was about to run out.

“I’m swapping with Tyler? Hell yeah, we’re gonna fool everybody!”

He was swapping with Blaine. Of course he was swapping with Blaine. The man was one of the hottest guys in the fraternity, and the unknowing recipient of Tyler’s biggest crush. He exuded confidence without even trying, and the way that the muscle definition of his arms bulged out of his sleeves never failed to get Tyler excited. Not that Blaine usually wore shirts around the house— it was rare to see him wearing anything that covered his chest unless he was having to go to class. His shoulders were impossibly wide, and his body was a temple of muscle. Worse still, he was so friendly and easygoing that he had no idea how embarrassed Tyler felt whenever he was near him. There was no way he would be able to spend time in that body without wanking himself senseless. “Fuck me, I’m going to have to swap bodies with Blaine.”

Blaine looked at him with a bit of a hurt expression on his face. “What, you don’t want to swap bodies with me? Come on, Tyler, this body is great!”

Shit, had he said that out loud? “No, I didn’t mean… of course it’s great! It’s just that, your body is so good it’s kind of intimidating. It makes me feel like if I eat junk food in your body, I’ll ruin it,” Tyler said, rushing to tell him a white lie. "It's good, it's just... it's a lot."

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Blaine said, patting him on the shoulder. “We’re just two guys swapping bodies. I can go a few days without working out at the gym. And hey, it’s not like I’m new to this whole body swapping thing. If you wanna get laid while you’re in my body-- honestly, I take it as a compliment.” He gave Tyler a playful push on the shoulder. “You know I’m gonna try to do the same, right? You’re a good looking guy! I’m taking you out to the bars to get drunk, and I bet I’ll score while I’m there. It’s still a vacation week, everyone is looking to get laid.”

Tyler just stood there, blinking, as he tried to comprehend what Blaine had just said. Empty compliments aside, had he really granted him permission to do anything he wanted? He barely registered Ethan guiding him over to the spell circle and uttering the incantation. Blaine had just given him permission to get laid inside of his body.

Tyler rummaged through Blaine’s closet, playing dress-up with his new muscular frame. Most of the man’s wardrobe consisted of sweatpants, gym shorts, and free t-shirts. It wasn’t surprising, but it was disappointing. He was planning to dropbox some photos of Blaine’s body to his own personal account for later usage, and he was hoping for a few sophisticated outfits to contrast Blaine’s gym bro vibes. He was also planning to take Blaine up on his offer to get laid, just… perhaps in a way that he hadn’t intended when he gave Tyler blank permission. He pulled up the Google Play store on Blaine’s phone, and searched for Grindr only to discover it had already been downloaded. His heart started to race faster— he hadn’t seen the app on any of the main screens, did that mean Blaine had hidden it away in a folder somewhere? Surely it was more likely that someone else had downloaded it during a prior swap? Well, there was only one way to find out. He took a deep break and clicked ‘open’.

He couldn’t believe his luck— it was an active profile. Bi_greekguy_Est_02. No profile photo, and a description that just read “discreet, message for pics”. This changed everything. He absolutely had to fuck his own body. But how could he pull Blaine into a private discussion without being suspicious? The two of them never really crossed paths, so anything direct would be incredibly suspicious. He could pretend to ask for help, but it would have to be something Tyler could actually help with. He had fixed Jacob’s computer once, and Blaine didn’t have a reputation for being tech savvy… that could work? It was worth the risk. Tyler walked downstairs to his body’s room, enjoying the heft of his shoulders as he walked. “Is Tyler in there?” he said, casually knocking on the doorframe. “I’ve got an issue with my laptop, and Jacob said you might be able to fix it.”

Blaine emerged from the room, glaring at him in concern but otherwise playing along. “I… yeah, Blaine I can take a look at it,” he said. “Lead the way, I guess.” He followed Tyler back to his body’s room, and made sure that the door was shut before beginning to yell at him. “What in the hell are you thinking, dude! I never come down to the basement! What in the hell could be so important that you— ohh.” Tyler responded by showing him the Grindr profile he’d found. He crossed his arms, scowling defensively. “I… yeah, okay. So what, I’m bisexual. What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is that I’m a gay man,” Tyler said. “If I had known I wasn’t the only non-straight guy here, I would have tried my luck ages ago. I know you want to win this weekend, but some things are more fun than trying to fool the rest of the guys. I don’t care if we get identified immediately, as long as we have fun. I thought you were out of my league. I still think you’re out of my league. But now that I’m inside of you? You can bet your ass I’ll be taking advantage of every minute.” He flexed for emphasis, watching the definition on Blaine’s arm.

Blaine laughed. “Well, if we’re being honest… I’ve always thought you looked like a cute bottom, but I didn’t know if you were gonna get offended if I asked. I didn’t want to risk my reputation as the macho gym bro to ask you if you were gay. You want to know why I was excited to swap with you? I was excited to end up in your body so that I could take it out to all the gay bars. I’m gonna get your ass railed so hard that it’ll still be sore after we swap back.”

Tyler couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “I… you thought I was cute?”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Blaine said, as he started to blush. “You don’t have to be aggressively masculine to be desirable. We are absolutely becoming fuck buddies once this is over. You can be my tutor if you want to keep it discreet.”

Tyler pressed down on Blaine’s shoulders, taking advantage of his body’s light stature to lower him to his knees. “Who said anything about waiting until this is over?” Tyler started to slowly untie his sweatpants, letting the unspoken tension build as he adjusted the waistband of his boxers. “Do you really expect me to believe you haven’t fantasized about getting fucked by your own cock?”

Blaine looked at the eight inches of erect cock positioned a few inches in front of his face, and then looked up into the eyes of his body. He couldn’t help but laugh. “We’re not going to make it out to the bars this weekend, are we?”

[456-is-the-way]

haiii so i was wondering if i could request a fic abt reader x frontman cs ive had this idea for s while now i just cant write it😓😓

so the idea is reader is a daughter of one of the vips and one day reader's father decideds to fund the game by marrying her to frontman if that make sense?? or reader's father made some sort of deal with ilnam (up to you) , and reader is just totally against it at first bcs she thinks the games are cruel but once she spends more time around inho she warms up more and grows to really him and he also warms up to her😣😣🙏🙏 (so its like an arranged marriage, enemies to lovers type shi🤞🤞)

A/n: I LOVE ALL BLOWING UP MY ASK BOX!!! FIRST OFF I LOVE THIS IDEA. So imma write it lmao as stated before I am taking requests in my ask box first! So here is another one. Please let me know if you want to ask for a character from season 1 or 2! NGL needs more Gi-hun requests yall lol!

Trigger warning: N/A

Squid Game Masterlist

In-ho x Reader

The Arrangement

It was no secret to (Y/n) (L/n) of her father's wicked deeds. Since birth, she knew they were in one of the most elite families who not only watched what they called the ‘Squid Game’ but actively held their version of the games. It was a horrid curse (Y/n) from which she could not escape. For many years her father hosted, sponsored, and even made active bets in several games held worldwide. But none of those topped the Korean games is what her father stated for several years. She even had the chance to meet the original creator of the games, an older man named Il-nam. After all the gambling, (Y/n)’s father made one of the most unbelievable bets with the old man. He decided to place the ultimate wager on player 456: his daughter could marry anyone of Il-mans choice.

(Y/n) sat in the room with the other VIPs and her father as the final battle commenced between players 456 and 218. She closed her eyes not able to watch this. (Y/n) understood the tense feelings between the players as she was forced to watch the entire game season unfold. She could not imagine what they both felt, best friends turned against each other. She took a deep breath as her father made her watch. Despite her fate, she honestly hoped 456 won. It almost disgusted (Y/n) how her inner thoughts had rooted for the players. She had favorites just like the VIPS. At the end of the battle the underdog, Gi-hun prevailed.

It was the same day Il-man and her father introduced her to the special man she would be wedded to. “Meet the most important man here. Someone I entrust everything to. You may remove your mask.” Il-man said. (Y/n) had met The Front Man several times before. He had been very attentive to the VIPs but it was obvious (Y/n) had his personal attention. She never thought anything of it because most people gave her special treatment. Once the mask is removed her eyes widen, who knew the man was at least somewhat attractive man.

“I am In-ho. It a pleasure to be marrying you, Ms (Y/n).” He bows.

_1 year later_

The wedding took place only a year after the deal. It was held privately and only the most important officials and elite families were invited. Everything was from the top chefs Korean had to offer, she was respectful of In-ho’s culture and insisted on having a traditional Korean wedding. After the ceremony, they were sent to the luxury oceanfront hotel. She leaned against, In-ho as they were sitting on the balcony. “In-ho, why do you run these horrible games?” Her question was answered with silence unsure of how to answer (Y/n)’s question In-ho turned away. He still was not very open to (Y/n) but he did find her gorgeous and knew it wasnt her choice to partake in the wagers her father deals.

“It was complicated but I know you are stuck with an old man like me so I guess I will tell you. I had been a player in the games before. Back when my wife had been in the hospital. I had been the last one standing. It didn’t matter I was too late. She and my unborn child died… So I took the old man's offer to take this over. He needed someone to inherit the games. Including for me to have… children. He planned I would pass this down. I plan to do that. He was like a father to me and I only wish to make him happy.”

(Y/n) put a hand on In-ho’s chest. She gently cupped his face. “I am sorry In-ho. I promise to be a good wife to you… I couldn’t imagine what you are going through. Come on let's go inside.” (Y/n) kissed him deeply. In-ho eagerly accepted the kiss picking her up. It was no lie he liked the woman and Il-man knew In-ho would need someone like (Y/n) to make him stable.

She honestly felt bad for the man who was forced to particapte in these games only to still lose everything he had. “I know you I think you are very attractive for an ‘old man’. None of this is your fault … I won’t leave you,” She promised combing back his dark brown hair. Perhaps this would be so bad after all.

[hemlockesprings]

Helloo! I hope you're having a good day today!

But may I ask you? You can ignore this or whatever.

Is there any advice you can give to a person who's beginning/starting in music? Like in the aspects of melody making.

When I sung it's good but when I try to create a melody with it I just crash out.

That's all!

Thank youu!

And one more thing, can I be chai latte anon?

-chai latte

<3

hiii chai latte! ☕️ (there's not really a good emoji for this haha) 👋🏾

Well, there are many resources that can teach you how to make catchy melodies, how to write lyrics, how to make a song, etc. I'm not gonna lie, I haven't dug into any of them 😭

The best advice I can give you from my personal experience is that music is about feeling and intuition. In order to get to that one idea you really like, often times you have to cycle through tens, hundreds, maybe even thousands of ideas you either don't like, feel neutral about, or kind of like but it's not quite there.

You have to get rrreeeaaaaaaaallll comfortable with sounding stupid, not liking what you're making....honestly, you gotta get real comfortable with being UNCORMFORTABLE!

The crashing out you're experiencing? Every artist does that, they just may not show it. Expect to feel that way about 99% of the time when making music!

Melody-making can be as easy as breathing air and as difficult as finding a needle in a haystack. I've found it to be the latter quite often!

I guess what I'm trying to say is if you're main objective is to make a catchy melodic song, there's definitely YouTube videos that can go into more depth and detail than I can 🤣

BUT ALSO, ain't nothing wrong with a good crash out. Or two. Or a hundred. Or a thousand. In a way, you're subliminally doing a POE! You know how you DON'T want the song to sound. Having multiple DON'TS can lead you to a DO!

I don't know if I helped any, but I will say this is advice I wished someone gave me when making songs, so I thought I would pass it along haha

-🔒💕

[creatur3featur3]

Street Rat p2

word count: 3.6k (WOO ON A ROLL LOVES!!)

A/N: DEFINITELY out of my writers block! only took about, 3 hours? usually takes me like a full day when i'm unmotivated but here we are!

----Enjoy Loves----

Okay so maybe you were following Sevika around for weeks on end now, but it wasn't exactly your fault- it was hers.

All that being nice and giving you food, or just being human and providing for someone who obviously couldn't take care of herself properly. She had been dying to get you off her tail with you following her like a stray dog constantly, you were ruining her reputation with your weird attachment to her. 

The regulars she played cards with gave you weird glances but she always seemed to scare them off from bothering you when you were digging around in people's dumped junk with a stern gaze. You definitely seemed to live up to your name of a street rat with your constant wandering off to find someone that shined under the dim lights of the Undercity’s lamp posts, she had even gotten you a small bag as well which had honestly surprised you.

You scoffed when she threw it to you, “Are you serious? I don't need this shit.” you spat sharply, god she wished she could rip that  sharp tongue out of yours out of your mouth. She set down her cup, whatever liquid she was drinking sloushing out.

“You think I don't see you storing your little trinkets out in dumped boxes? You're pathetic, the amount of times I've seen people swipe from your little stashes is ridiculous.” Your brow furrows at her words, you're not pathetic, you're smart, hell- brilliant even! “WELL, Miss.im so smart, i'll have you know I have many stashes around the city,”

“and how many of them stay full?”

you pause.

“...like.. three maybe…” you admit with a pout, “Then take the bag” she says sternly.

You grumble as you snatch the bag off the table, examining it with cold eyes but muttering a quiet “thank you” under your breath- then you're gone.

You choose not to stick around her during the day, too many eyes, you stay on the outskirts of the city- just like today. 

you squirm up the broken fire escape, trying your best to host yourself up with- little success. You hate to admit that Sevika’s ‘gift’ was actually pretty helpful, much more storage for cogs and other useful stuff- only downside is that you put way too much stuff in it.

“come on!-" You hiss under your breath as you hang onto the railing, trying to throw the bag up onto the floor of the fire escape so you can get yourself up. Such you were fit, your worked out a good amount, but.. your weren't exactly sure what to really work out.

The bag thudded onto the rusty fire escape with a loud clang, the sound echoing down the alleyway below. You winced, glancing over your shoulder to make sure no one had heard. The last thing you needed was some nosy thug poking around while you were mid-scramble.  

"Stupid bag," you muttered, wiping sweat off your brow. The thing had been helpful, sure, but damn if it wasn’t heavier than you thought it would be with all the “essentials” you’d crammed into it.  

With a deep breath, you grabbed the edge of the fire escape again, gritting your teeth as you hoisted yourself up. Your muscles strained against the weight of your own body, your arms trembling as you kicked your legs to get some momentum. “Okay... almost there...”  

Finally, with a groan, you managed to drag yourself up, collapsing onto the cold metal floor with a loud huff. You rolled onto your back, staring up at the dim, flickering lights of the Undercity’s skyline, panting like you’d just run a marathon.  

“Maybe I should’ve worked out more…” you mumbled, glaring at the bag now sitting innocently beside you.  

The memory of Sevika tossing it to you came to mind, her cold, stern gaze practically daring you to argue with her. She hadn’t been wrong about your stashes getting raided—half of them were basically public property at this point—but still, you’d never admit she had a point. That’d be giving her too much satisfaction.  

As much as you hated to admit it, the bag was starting to feel like a lifeline. Not just because it kept your things safe, but because... well, it was from her.  

You sighed, sitting up and brushing your hands off on your pants. “Whatever,” you muttered to yourself, swinging the bag over your shoulder again. “It’s just a stupid bag. Doesn’t mean anything.”  

As you climb further up the ladders you find yourself at what you call, home. The climb had left your muscles burning, but as you finally pulled yourself up to the top platform, a sense of relief washed over you. This was your little corner of the world, tucked high above the chaos of the Undercity, where few dared to tread.

"Home sweet home," you muttered, glancing at the haphazard setup before you.

The patchwork of old carpets and threadbare blankets was hardly luxurious, and the wooden crates stacked into a leaning structure could barely be called stable. Still, it had its charm—if only because it was yours. 

You ducked under the slanted “roof” of your makeshift tent, the faint smell of oil and dust filling your nose as you tossed the bag onto the ground with a loud thud. Sliding down onto the pile of blankets you called a bed, you let out a long, drawn-out exhale, the tension in your shoulders finally releasing.  

After a few moments, you sat up, rolling your sleeves as you reached for the bag. “Alright, let’s see what we’ve got this time,” you murmured to yourself, the habit of talking aloud in your solitude one you never quite managed to break.  

One by one, you started pulling items from the bag: cogs, rusted bolts, wires tangled like a bird’s nest, a couple of scraps of metal that might be useful if you ever found a decent buyer. You laid them out in neat rows, sorting them with a critical eye.  

“Junk, maybe useful, definitely junk, hmm… potential,” you muttered, setting aside a few pieces you deemed worth keeping.  

Every so often, you paused to examine an item more closely, holding it up to the dim light filtering through the cracks of your tent. A faint smile tugged at your lips as you found a small, intact gear with its teeth still sharp. “Hah, not bad,” you said to no one, setting it aside with a sense of triumph.  

This was your ritual, your little piece of order in an otherwise chaotic world. Sorting through the refuse of the Undercity, finding bits and pieces that others had discarded without a second thought—it wasn’t glamorous, but it was yours. 

Your contented sorting came to an abrupt halt as the distant noise filtered up through the layers of steel and grime below. First, it was the sharp crack of something breaking—glass, maybe, or a chair being hurled against a wall. Then came the muffled yelling, too distorted by the distance to make out the words.  

You froze, your fingers hovering over a twisted wire. It wasn’t unusual to hear fights in the Undercity; hell, it was practically the soundtrack of the place. But this time was different.  

This time, you recognized the low, gravelly tone of one of the voices. Sevika.  

Your stomach twisted as you strained to listen, hoping you’d misheard. But there it was again—her voice, cutting through the chaos with a sharp bark of anger.  

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath, scrambling to your feet. For a moment, you hesitated, torn between staying put in the safety of your little hideout and the nagging pull of curiosity—and maybe worry—that pushed you toward the ladder.  

Another crash, louder this time, made the decision for you. You grabbed the strap of your bag, slinging it over your shoulder as you moved toward the edge of the platform. Your heart pounded as you carefully climbed down, your usual annoyance at the shaky fire escape forgotten in your rush.  

By the time you reached the lower levels, the noise had grown louder, more distinct. You crept closer, ducking behind a stack of crates as you peered around the corner.  

There she was, Sevika, in the middle of a small brawl. Three guys, maybe more, circled her like vultures, but she looked as unfazed as ever, her mechanical arm gleaming under the dim light as she sent one of them flying with a single swing.  

Your first instinct was to turn back, let her handle it. She was Sevika, after all; she didn’t need help. But as another thug lunged at her with a broken pipe, something in you snapped.  

“Damn it,” you hissed, gripping the edge of the crate as you tried to come up with a plan. Or maybe you’d just jump in and wing it. Either way, you weren’t about to leave her hanging.

Though your- stupidity gets the best of you as you reach for a broken glass of whatever and throw it at one of the men, hitting his head

The moment the glass shattered against the man’s head, you felt a rush of pride. Bullseye. But that fleeting sense of accomplishment was quickly replaced with a cold, sinking feeling as the three men turned toward you, their expressions darkening like storm clouds.  

He wiped a hand over his face, now dripping with blood from a jagged cut the glass had left, his glare locking onto you like a predator sizing up its prey. “You’ve got a death wish, kid,” he growled, taking a menacing step forward.  

“Oh, crap,” you muttered, your bravado evaporating in an instant.  

Without another thought, you turned on your heel and bolted, your heart pounding in your ears as your boots slapped against the slick pavement. Behind you, the sound of shouts and heavy footsteps echoed as the men gave chase.  

“Stupid stupid stupid!!” you hissed to yourself, dodging around a stack of broken crates. This wasn’t exactly the first time your mouth—or in this case, your impulse to throw things—had gotten you into trouble, but this? This was a new level of stupid.  

You ducked into a narrow alley, squeezing through the gap between two rusted pipes as the men shouted behind you. Your pulse was racing, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you scanned the area for an escape route.  

Up ahead, you spotted a ladder leading to one of the upper platforms, the kind you’d climbed a hundred times before. “Come on, come on,” you whispered, practically leaping toward it.  

As you grabbed the rungs and started to climb, one of the men reached the base of the ladder, cursing loudly. He jumped, his fingers grazing your ankle, but you kicked out with a frantic yell, forcing him to let go.  

“Keep running, street rat!” one of them yelled.  

“Oh, I plan to!” you shouted back, your voice dripping with sarcasm despite the panic clawing at your chest.  

You scrambled onto the platform above, your legs burning and your breath coming in ragged gasps. From this vantage point, you could see Sevika below, taking advantage of your little distraction you created. For a split second, you thought about doubling back to help her, but another shout from below reminded you of your own predicament.  

"She better appreciate this," you muttered bitterly as you darted off into the shadows, praying you could lose your pursuers before they decided to make good on their threats. 

–

“What the fuck were you thinking?!” Sevika snarled as you sat next to her at the little market you had come to know for your routine feeding, “those guys could've and would've killed you!” She hissed.

“I was helping!” you grumble, “Helping doesn't mean almost getting yourself killed!” Sevika shot right back.

“You should've been able to take those guys easily, they were so much smaller than you!”

“I had it.”

“Didn't seem like it Toolbox.”

“Stop calling me that,”

“Toolbox.”

“Street Rat.”

“Mines cooler anyways.” you hum, Sevika scoffs with a shake of her head, “You fucking wish.”

“Well,” you start, shoving the fruit you had stuffed in your bag into your mouth, biting into it sharply, the juices running down your chin- “I deserve a thank you.”

“You are not getting a thank you for making me worry,” Sevika spat, “awww, so you do care!” you hum sarcastically, “oh, my heart might just explode with joy!”

Sevika rolled her eyes so hard you were surprised they didn’t pop out of her skull. “Don’t flatter yourself Rat. I care because you’re a liability. If you go and get yourself killed, that’s just one more mess I have to deal with.”  

You snorted, chewing noisily on your fruit. “Sure, sure. Keep telling yourself that, Sevvy.”  

Her glare could have melted steel. “Call me that again and see what happens.”  

“Sevvy.” You said it sweetly, almost a purr, batting your lashes for extra effect.  

The mechanical fingers of her arm clenched with a faint hiss, and you couldn’t help but grin, even as she loomed closer, her presence casting a shadow over you. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that,” she growled, voice low and dangerous.  

“And brains,” you added smugly, leaning back as if her looming didn’t faze you. “I mean, I did save your ass, remember?”  

She scoffed, crossing her arms. “If by ‘save’ you mean ‘made my life infinitely harder,’ then yeah. Thanks for that.”  

You bit into your fruit again, savoring its sweetness as you shrugged. “Same difference. You’d miss me if I wasn’t around.”  

“I’d sleep better, that’s for sure.”  

“Awww, Sev, you’re so sweet,” you teased, wiping juice off your chin with your sleeve. “No wonder people love you so much.”  

Her lips twitched, like she was fighting back a smirk. “You’re lucky you’re useful sometimes, Street Rat. Otherwise, I’d have tossed you into the gutter by now.”  

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, grinning despite her insult. “Admit it, Sevika. You like having me around.”  

She shook her head, muttering something under her breath as she turned her attention back to her drink. You took that as a win, leaning back against the table with a satisfied smirk.

“So,” You hum as you throw the finished fruit onto the street, “Where we going now?”

Sevika stood up, pushing in her chair and throwing her cloak over her mechanical arm “I'm, going home.”

You frowned, tilting your head like a confused pup. “Home? What about me?”  

Sevika glanced over her shoulder, her expression flat. “What about you?”  

You scoffed, standing up and brushing the crumbs off your clothes. “I thought we were a team now.”  

She barked a laugh, the kind that was more mocking than amused. “Team? Don’t flatter yourself, Toolbox. You’re just a stray I can’t seem to shake off.”  

You put your hands on your hips, leaning forward as you shot her a challenging glare. “Stray or not, you’d be bored without me, and you know it.”  

“Bored?” she repeated, raising an eyebrow as she adjusted her cloak. “More like finally at peace.”  

“Sure, Sev, keep telling yourself that,” you quipped, falling into step beside her despite her best efforts to stride ahead.  

She stopped abruptly, turning to face you with a sharp glare. “What do you want, huh? A place to crash? A warm meal? Or do you just like annoying me?”  

You grinned, not missing a beat. “Little bit of all three, honestly.”  

She exhaled sharply, clearly trying to rein in her irritation. “You’re impossible.”  

“And yet, here we are,” you said with a cheeky shrug.  

For a moment, Sevika just stared at you, her jaw tightening as if she were debating whether to knock you out or just walk away. Finally, she shook her head, muttering something about bad decisions as she turned back toward the street.  

“Fine,” she said gruffly, not bothering to look back at you. “Follow me. But don’t think for a second this means I like you.”  

Your grin widened as you fell into step behind her. “Of course not, Sevvy. This is purely professional.”  

“Call me that again, and you’re sleeping in the gutter.”  

“Love you too,” you teased, earning a sharp growl from her as the two of you disappeared into the crowded streets of the Undercity.

God she hated you.

As you follow her not too far behind she doesn't look back- until she hears a loud CLUNK.

She looked back to see you diving into a dumpster, your legs propelling yourself further into it.

Sevika stopped dead in her tracks, her mechanical arm twitching slightly as she turned to stare at you, her expression an unreadable mix of irritation and disbelief.  

“What the hell are you doing now?” she called out, her voice carrying that sharp edge of exasperation she reserved just for you.  

Your legs flailed for a moment, kicking at the air as you wormed your way further into the dumpster. “I saw something shiny!” you shouted back, your voice muffled by the metal container.  

Sevika pinched the bridge of her nose, muttering under her breath. “Shiny? Are you a crow now?”  

“Shut up, it might be important!” you countered, your voice ringing with mock indignation.  

The dumpster rattled as you rummaged around, the sound grating on Sevika’s nerves. She glanced around, noting the amused—or horrified—looks from a few passersby. She sighed deeply, her patience wearing thin.  

“You know,” she said, her tone flat as she leaned against a nearby wall, arms crossed, “there’s a fine line between being resourceful and being a complete idiot. Guess which side you’re on.”  

You didn’t respond immediately, too engrossed in whatever treasure you were hunting. A moment later, you popped your head out of the dumpster, holding up a slightly dented but intact pocket watch. “See? Totally worth it!” you declared, grinning triumphantly.  

Sevika raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “A broken watch?”  

“It’s vintage!” you argued, shaking the watch for emphasis.  

“Yeah, sure. Vintage trash,” she shot back, turning on her heel. “Let’s go, before someone mistakes you for actual garbage.”  

You hopped out of the dumpster, brushing off your clothes as you jogged to catch up with her. “You’re just mad you didn’t see it first,” you teased, tucking the watch into your bag.  

She didn’t respond, but you swore you saw her roll her eyes as she picked up her pace, trying her best to ignore you.

But your voice was grating, the way you chatted away about god knows what, trying to take apart the watch as you walked, proving to Sevika by the brand name on the inside of the watch that it was definitely worth something.

“See? I told you, I know what's useless or, worthy!” You hum happily.

you were definitely a lot different from when Sevika first saw you, when you were a lot more sharp and,I guess hateful. Now here you are, talking her ear off about some history behind the watch.

Cute.

Sevika shook her head firmly, no, absolutely not, you were not cute or anything like that, you were a dingy kid from the streets, probably not even 26, you had your whole life ahead of you.

Sevika’s gaze flickered over to you as you babbled on about the intricate history behind the watch, your hands working quickly to twist and turn its parts, barely looking up as you walked beside her.  

“Mm-hmm, sure, sure,” she muttered, her focus on the path ahead, though her mind was starting to wander despite herself. You were relentless, a flurry of words and energy that kept bouncing from one topic to the next, your excitement practically buzzing through the air. It was almost impossible not to listen to you, even if she didn’t want to.  

But cute? No.  

You were just some kid, a street rat, sure, but not in a pathetic sense anymore. She couldn’t quite pinpoint it. Maybe it was how you had this endless drive to find the value in everything, even when it was so easy for someone like her to overlook. Or how your once sharp edges seemed to have softened over time, the constant biting sarcasm now replaced with, well, an actual willingness to communicate, to engage.  

God, what the hell was wrong with her?

She tried shaking it off, focusing on the weight of her boots as they hit the cracked pavement. She was not about to get all sentimental or soft. That would be a mistake.  

“I’m serious, Sevika,” you continued, eyes sparkling as you looked up at her, “I could sell this for a few cogs. It’s pretty rare, maybe even more than that if I find the right buyer!”  

She made a noncommittal sound in her throat, but inside, something shifted just a bit. You really are something else, she thought.  

Her mind screamed at her to pull away, to put some distance between herself and you before she made a mistake, but here she was, still walking beside you, letting you prattle on and on.  

“Yeah, whatever, just don’t go blowing it on something stupid,” she muttered, though there was a flicker of something in her voice that she quickly smothered.  

You gave her a sidelong glance, not missing the subtle change. “You really do care, huh?”  

She didn’t answer, instead pushing her shoulders back and picking up the pace, determined to ignore the way her heart seemed to tighten. She could still feel the eyes of the people around you—at least, that’s what she told herself.  

But maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t just about saving you from getting yourself killed anymore. Maybe... she was just stuck with you, whether she liked it or not.  

“Keep dreaming, kid,” she said gruffly, her voice betraying none of the warmth creeping up her spine.  

“Aw, you're soft, Sev," you teased, and she felt her chest tighten even more.  

"Shut up, Streetie," she snapped, the words coming out far too fondly for her liking.  

“Streetie? that's a new one,” you giggle slightly, seeming to notice before you cleared your throat.

(what do we think about making this a series Loves?)

[amorre1989]

strange visit and a date night

pairing: Spencer Reid; reader; Derek Morgan

word count: 3,8k

story?: After Spencer runs to the grocery store to buy some things to have a date night with you, but, to surprise of both of you, agent Derek Morgan suddenly shows up at his door.

"alright so, eggs, flour, garlic, wine and tomato sauce, is that it?" he asks checking on the list you just gave him.

"perfect" you answer smiling.

"alright, I'll be back in a second" he says, kissing you softly while holding the back of your head gently. You smiled and let him get out of his own apartment. While waiting for him, you decided to do a little cleaning, you had already become a master in "Spencer Reid's ethics for deep cleaning a house", so cleaning the way he likes was easy as pi (as he would say).

While you were trying to get rid of a stain of sauce from a plate you heard a knock, honestly you just walked to the door you didn't even think about the knock not being Spence, so you opened it. There, standing in front of you, was a dark skin man, very tall and ripped, and bald.

You smiled and he looked surprised.

"uhm, I'm sorry, I think I got mixed with the numbers..." he said, checking again the number of the door. "mhm..weird"

"are you looking for Spencer Reid?" you asked, then you saw his face changing from confusion to super confusion.

"I am, yes"

"this is his apartment, he went grocery shopping"

"are you?...staying with him? or are you maybe being tutored or something?" "tutored?" you thought.

"no, I'm his... something" you said, you haven't discussed it yet...so it would be better to just leave it there.

He burst out laughing and held himself in the doorframe, you smiled, thinking it was funny.

"sorry, are you his friend?" you asked

"I'm Morgan, yes, I work with him" he said exchanging hands with you.

"oh!" now it all made sense "yes! of course, he always talks about you, come in please, if you wanna wait for him"

"I do! yes, thank you baby".

You closed the door and waited together for Spence while sipping coffee and chatting, being interrogated too "how'd you too meet?, how long have you been seeing each other?, do you live together?, why hasn't he said anything before?". So many questions you didn't know how far you could answer.

Then, you hear the sound of the keys opening the door.

"inflation is crazy, and old women should learn to calm down, that woman thought I wanted her stupid cat sand and we don't even-" he stood still, observing the image, you, his now 6 month old not girlfriend, and his womanizer attractive coworker, sitting on his couch together while apparently have been drinking the coffee he bought for you.

"hey pretty boy" says Morgan smiling "you didn't tell me you have a girlfriend"

"I uhm...what are you doing here?"

"I wanted to ask you if you- don't avoid my question!" he says standing up, are they gonna fight?, no, he'll finish Spence.

"it's private" he says leaving the bags and looking at you, you just smile, agreeing, it is private...well not so much because everyone knows but it's not like it's official.

"would you like to stay for dinner?" you ask.

"no!" shouts Spence from the kitchen, you and Morgan look at each other and chuckle.

"no, we had a date night planned" he says coming back to you both.

"alright, alright, I'll leave you too alone then...I came because I wanted to ask you where you buy your clothes, I need to wear something like your shirts to an event" he says.

"I'll send you the info later...just leave" he says pushing him out of the house, you laugh.

"goodbye princess" he says and you wave at him.

Spencer closes the door behind him standing with Morgan at the hallway.

"that's a pretty one you have there" says Morgan smiling

"she is, yeah, she's beautiful" Spencer says blushing

"why didn't you tell me?" Morgan asks

"it's just...I wanted to check this was real and not insignificant before saying anything"

"are you gonna ask her to be your girlfriend?" he smiles, he thinks Spence is such a girlfriend dude.

"I will...yeah, but I need to confirm she wants me to be her boyfriend first" he says

"I bet she'll say yes...so, date night huh?". Spence nods "what will your dessert be?" he asks laughing, Spence blushes but smiles and pushes him towards the elevator.

He waves goodbye to Morgan from outside the elevator and then comes back to you (as usual).

When he opens the door you're the first thing to his sight, taking out the groceries.

"so inflation is crazy?" you ask getting closer.

"yeah, and old ladies" he says pouting. "this was horrible, I never imagined Morgan would come to our house".

You smile at the sound of "our" house.

"let's start cooking for our super fun date night" you say and kiss him.

After Morgan leaves, you too start to cook. Tonight's menu is pasta! which you both love, now you're teaching him how to play with the seasonings and discover new flavors, you've made that since you got into Spencer's life, teach him how to experience, not only in cooking, in sports, your culture, places, and a lot of things Spencer always brought up when talking to the team unconsciously.

Now he's chopping garlic next to you, while you open the tomato bottle and pour it in the pot.

"you know? garlic is a great cleaner for the liver, in women it can help with vaginal infections, bloating from menstruation, it can even help the blood flow and It can help reduce bad cholesterol and triglycerides, and increase good cholesterol" he says while putting the garlic into the pot, you smile and kiss his cheek.

"good for me then, how about for you?"

"Garlic may help reduce the risk of cardiovascular disease, strengthen the immune system, as it contains antiviral, antibacterial and antioxidant properties, It can help fight skin infections, such as athlete's foot and ringworm, as well as intestinal infections" he says smiling at you.

"sounds good, we should eat lots of garlic then" you say and kiss his cheek. He smiles and blushes and starts to chop some carrots and meat. You open the cabinet and give him another board for the meat, then you open the drawer and give him another knife.

"different knives and boards baby" you say while taking the pasta from another cabinet.

"right" he says, not in a bad mood though, in a way that shows he understands and listens to you.

When the pasta finishes cooking you mix it with the sauce together, then you both set the table and he runs to the living room.

You take a peek but you aren't able to see anything besides the door, then he puts a red candle on the center of the table and lights it on, you smile and he smiles.

"how prepared" you say teasingly.

He smiles and kisses you, so sweet and comfortable, his lips are where yours should be stored always.

You have dinner discussing a book you read together and how pretty both of you look tonight.

"your friend Morgan's cool" you say.

"yeah, he's funny" he says. You wipe a stain of sauce from his lips and he smiles, almost spitting the pasta from his mouth as you laugh, then he laughs along.

"you make me nervous..." he mumbles looking down at his plate.

"why?" you ask giggling.

"you just do" he says smiling, he leans and kisses you.

After dinner comes dessert, which was shared ice cream while laying on the couch watching a movie, you interrogate him with questions like "what would you do if..., or what do you prefer?..." which makes him laugh but think.

That's your night, those are your nights, as usual, filled with love and laughs, while he strokes the skin he's able to reach. Once he told you he was a germophobe, now you can't believe it because how can Spence, the man that's all day with his hands on you, when you cook, when you get dressed, when you're brushing your teeth at the same time, when you're sleeping, even unconsciously, be a germophobe?.

Soft strokes on your bare leg, his index finger stroking your thighs, then your calves that he pulled on his thighs, then kisses, kisses on your legs which he says he loves so much. Suddenly he's above you, soft kisses from the ice cream and the warmness from his skin covered in a shirt.

You can hear the credits of the now finished movie, but that's not something that's gonna be the principal of your attention, you focus on his lips on yours, on your neck, then on the feeling of his fingers brushing against your skin while unbuttoning your shirt to after feeling him kissing and licking your chest, you focus on thinking about how he's leaving marks on you that say "Spencer was here". Morgan was right, you were gonna be the dessert afterwards.

[thestraybunny]

I (do)n't need you Pt. 3

Pairing: Non-Idol Joshua Hong x Afab!reader WC: 12.7k Genre: Non-Idol AU, Exes to lovers Rating: E (18+, MDNI) Warning: Angst, Drinking, Fluff, Joshua is just beautiful, bad communication actually shit communication, Smut, Protected Sex,

Summary: How will this date go? Will it give hope for a brighter future or will your doubt nearly cost you that chance?

A/N: Wow.. I can't thank you all enough for the likes and reblogs. As I mentioned before, this fic was already done so they able to go out quickly. The 3rd installment was going to be Wonwoo, but for timeline purposes it will be Jeonghan. All these fics can be read as standalones, but for my own sanity, I gotta write it in timeline order. Keep an eye out! Enjoy Part 3! Part 1 and Part 2

Pretty U was a quaint little restaurant, and it was clear walking through the door why it was such a popular spot. It provided a perfect atmosphere to spend time with friends, or even have a date night. The inside dimly lit with small tables littering through the space, only to spill out onto a patio that was lit up by twinkling lights with hints of dark purples and greens. It was where the two of you were quickly seated at.

Your table covered with a deep purple tablecloth and lit up by two tealight candles floating in a small bowl of water and clear water beads. There were little fall leaves inside and the beads gave the illusion that they were suspended in the water.

“Jeonghan already stole like five or six of these candles, and I can’t tell you how many of those little decorations, last time we were here they were little whales and crabs. He’s taken to leave them all over my damn apartment and the others. Jihoon is about to ban him if he finds one more in his studio at work. One time, he successfully managed to dump the water and leave with the vase, beads and little decorations too,” Joshua told you in a low voice, an amused smile playing over his lips, his eyes on the menu. You let out an unsurprised snort of laughter, accompanied by an eye roll, focusing on your own menu.

“Why am I not surprised?” You ask, and the both of you looked up at the same time.

“Because it’s Jeonghan.” You both say this in unison, then burst out laughing. Pure genuine laughter at sharing the same thought, something that was nice to do again with him.

“I swear, his cabinets are filled with the random dishes that he’s stolen from restaurants around here and when he was abroad. I still don’t know how he manages to not get caught ever.” His laughter made your heart start to flutter and swell. You didn’t realize how much you missed hearing it or seeing his smile so wide that his eyes were close to squinting, as much you did. Or how good it felt to be able to do this with him again. It gave you hope that everything will work out and be okay, “He did claim he had an accomplice this time but refused to disclose who or anything about that night.”

“Maybe he’s dating someone, and not ready to tell you guys yet?” You suggest, and Joshua pretended to look offended that you would even suggest something like that. “Or it just happened to be a date that just didn’t go well. Or, even worse,” you fake a gasp, and he looks up you with raised brows, “He was out with another friend and knows how jealous you twelve get if it’s anyone but y’all.”

“Okay, smartass,” Joshua rolled his eyes, and you just stick your tongue at him. He was then quiet for a moment, appearing to be focusing on his menu, “You might be right about seeing someone. He did almost say someone’s name last night but stopped himself.”

“I bet you’re heartbroken that he almost called you someone else’s name.” Joshua shot his tongue out at you at your response this time.

“Whoever they are though, didn’t come out for his birthday. So who knows honestly. I am a little hurt he didn’t tell me or Coups.”

“Yoon Jeonghan is the definition of never let them know your next move. I can see him go through an entire relationship, and an engagement without telling a soul. Only for you to find out when he invites you all to an unknown location and be like ‘Surprise! I’m getting married.’” You giggle, as you look over your menu at him, catching that he was watching you with a smile on his face.

“You aren’t wrong there, but as his best friend, it’s not allowed to happen.”

“Of course, I’m not. I have a Kami, who is essentially the female version of him.” The tip of your boot gently taps his leg, “Which I think we should be happy the two of them can’t stand the sight of each other and never actually became a thing. The world would be a terrifying place with those teamed up.”

“What if it is Kami that he’s dating?”

“Was it her name he almost said?”

“No.”

“Then no. Besides, Kami is on a women only kick. Jeonghan is pretty for a man, but he’s not that pretty,” You tell him, and he only chuckled, both of you returning your attention to your menus, a comfortable silence falling over you both. “What are you getting?”

“I am thinking about maybe the steak and the Aglio e Olio. What about you?”

“That sounds good. I think I might get the steak too, but chicken alfredo instead of the Aglio.” You answer back, then look up to him. “I take it you aren’t drinking since you drove here?”

“I might have a glass with dinner, if we aren’t going to do a movie, we can grab a coffee after and walk around here after all. I saw a group busking down the ways, we can always check them out.” He answers, looking over the wine list, “If we do that, I should be okay to drive when we leave. Are you planning to have some wine?”

You purse your lips, looking down to your menu, not saying anything at all. It wasn’t that you didn’t want him drinking, you didn’t actually care if he does, but you didn’t think it was a wise decision. Still without answering him, you looked out from your seat to the people walking by, and the growing night life. Seeming to be lost in thought.

Hell, it was a nice enough night out, the nights have been a lot cooler than they had been that summer, and you weren’t actually that far from Joshua’s apartment. Maybe you didn’t have to stop at walking around the marketplace, the two of you could easily walk back instead. Enjoy the changing season, and the cool night air. Not stop any conversation you would be on.

Your lack of response, however, seemed to have set alarm bells off in him, because Joshua looked up with a concerned expression on his face. Feeling his eyes, you turned your attention back toward the man sitting across from you. With a tilt of your head, you decided to question him in Korean, “What?”

The two of you would go back and forth between English and Korean, and while you mostly spoke in English, both languages came out naturally in conversations. Most times it wouldn’t be until one of you forgot a word in either language when you figure out which one you were talking in. Or you two would knowingly change the language.

“Is that a problem?” He asked back in Korean, and you had to tell yourself that the words were not as condescending as you would normally take them. The question was more out of worry then with attitude, and was genuine due to your silence, “I don’t have to drink.”

Before something like this would have started a fight, tones and looks being misread by the both of you. This would lead to either a smart assed comment or snapping at each other before one of you ending up leaving; with it being you leaving more times than him. It would leave the other to sit there with eyes on them and pay for the untouched food served.

At the time, instead of working it out by talking, you were just consumed with hurt and anger over whatever petty argument was happening. Often times with no significance.

“No, if you want to drink then drink. I am not going to stop you,” You tell him, looking down to your wine list, deciding on a Cabernet Sauvignon for yourself. “We are not far from your place, so why not walk back? Or I’ll pay for the ride share if we decide we don’t want to walk after all. Especially since you are paying for dinner and coffee. Why not enjoy ourselves?”

Joshua looked surprised by your response, but you could see his shoulder slowly relax now that this wasn’t going to end in a fight. Instead, it was his turn to appear to be lost in thought. It was your turn to feel nervous. Was he going to argue with you over this? Was he going to jump to the conclusion you didn’t trust him?

Then that smile he had been wearing all night returned, and it was like you both were able to breathe again.

“You’re not spending a single dime on this date, just putting that out there. So whatever we decide, you aren’t paying.” He commented setting his menu down, now that he’s decided what he wanted, and you did the same. “I can come grab it in the morning during my jog, and pick us up some breakfast, while you sleep in…”

You watch him for a moment, wanting to laugh at how cute he looked right then catching his words. Truthfully, you don’t know what to expect for the end of the night and date, or even the next day, but you weren’t too worried about that right then. You wanted to enjoy what was happening right then, not what could happen later. Didn’t want to think about how you wanted to fall asleep next to him or that your body was already wanting more. Or even worry about the future.

In that moment, you decided that you were going to let the night decide what happens. Whether it ended up with you going home alone, or you waking up in his bed the next morning. You weren’t going to worry. You just wanted to be in the now with Joshua, like this.

Before you could tell him this in an attempt to reassurance, the waiter appeared in front of you to take your orders.

--

**Nine and a half months ago**

There was something wrong. The tension was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. Hell, you were sure the knife would break with how thick it was. It wasn’t clear who was making the tension worse between the two of you, but it was making even the waitress nervous when she came up to the table.

Joshua was wearing an uncharacteristic frown on his face, one that would soon become a constant in the coming months.

This disagreement that you had was a miniscule one. Something that normally was insignificant to the both of you, one that you used to think was so silly to get worked up over. Something that was easily preventable with proper communication, which you had done. Giving him plenty of warning.

Who knew that running late would be the catalyst that caused the can of worms to finally burst after weeks.

It wasn’t even an important date, like an anniversary, it was just your weekly dinner date at your favorite restaurant. You had let him know well into advance that day you were running late from work, having to fill in for an artist for a group at the last minute. Just like you both always did, and making sure each other were in the know. It wasn’t like you had bailed on him at the last minute or provided him with no communication.

This time though, he had taken an issue with this, making a comment about finally gracing him with your presence when you did get there. You attempted to try and chalk it up to a bad joke on his part, but his tone had rubbed you the wrong way. It had led to a few tense words being exchanged, mostly with him being dismissive of you, before falling into an uncomfortable silence.

It was even worse with the waitress coming to take your order.

You barely said anything to each other as you sat back against the soft cushion of your seat, looking around at the other booths and tables filled with the other patrons. All talking and laughing among each other, while Joshua rested his cheek against his hand, scrolling aimlessly on his phone. Usually both your phones would be put away, like yours was now, to give each other your full attention to each other.

Holding each other’s hands over the table, and just talking about different things. About each other’s days, or random topics that were of no importance but fascinating at the time. What you always did on date night. Only this time, it was silent and all you wanted was him to say something or even look at you.

“How was your day?” You asked, trying to start that conversation again with him, but he didn’t respond. Just looked up at you with an unreadable expression. You weren’t used to this kind of treatment from your boyfriend, actually not used to seeing him like this. It made your head hurt as you rubbed your temple. “Baby, I am just trying to talk to you.”

“Is it because you actually care or just trying to make small talk? Not able to handle the silence?” Joshua shot back suddenly, his voice calm but his words with bite to them.

“What’s that supposed to mean? I always care about your day, or anything that goes on with you. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t care, Shua.”

“Forget it.” He scoffed, shaking his head, and you were more thrown off as he looked down to his phone. Something was bothering him, it was very clear, but you weren’t sure if it was because of you or if it was because of something else. If it was something else, then it wasn’t fair to take it out on you, but if it was you, then he could at least tell you. “My day was the usual.”

“Baby, is everything okay?” His lack of answer made it feel like you were suffocating, panic starting to bubble, and causing you to scramble to find out, but he was giving you nothing. You thought you two could talk about anything, especially if something was wrong and able to work it out together.

Except over the last few weeks, since coming home from the farewell tour of the group you were working for in fact, he was starting to pull away from you. Like he was resigning himself from this relationship and would just shut down at the slightest of disagreements.

You couldn’t figure out what was going on, and needed to know if you had done something or said something to make him feel this way. And here he was giving you nothing. Knowing it was going to eat you up.

“It’s fine.” He tells you with another sigh. Dismissive and just gut punching.

“No, it’s not fine.” You try and keep your voice calm, but there was a quiver to it, switching to Korean, and this made him look at you again. His eyes darkened, but you continued. “Talk to me. If I did something, then please tell me so I know and apologize for upsetting you. But if it doesn’t have anything to do with me, then tell me too so I can help you through it like we always have. It’s not fair toward me to be treated like this, or fair toward us if it’s going to cause problems. I hate when you are mad, even more so when I feel like it’s directed toward me, and all I want is to help make you feel better.”

“I told you, everything is fine.” He responded back in English, not entertaining your language switch, his attention going right back to his phone. “Don’t worry about it.”

“And I know when you are lying about things like this, making me unable to do anything but worry. What I don’t understand is why you are lying to me about what’s wrong?” You snapped back, feeling tears burning your eyes, trying to hold back all the anger and hurt you were feeling. “Are you hiding something from me?”

There.

There was your mistake. There was no right word to describe the look on his face when he looked back up. It was like you just accused him of something heinous or something, but you honestly weren’t doing such thing. You were asking a question to try and understand this change in your boyfriend, to know if it’s you or if it’s something else. You deserved to know.

Except those words were not relayed properly, and you realize how they actually sounded to him. You were accusing him when you weren’t intending to, and you were scrambling to try and reword them.

“You know what, let’s just forget dinner tonight.” He said calmly, cutting you off without any more thought, but he was pissed even if his voice didn’t betray him. It was the way his eyebrows furrowed, and the way the frown he was wearing didn’t fit his usually kind and happy face. It made him unrecognizable to you.

“Joshua…” The words were lost in your throat, he was already up and walking out of the restaurant without another word. Leaving you to scramble and rush after him.

That was your second mistake.

The moment you caught up to him, one of the worst fights of your relationship happened. It was the first time you had ever heard Joshua yell at you like that, his voice filled with so much anger, and it felt like daggers at you. It was jarring to see him this angry as he brought up past disagreements, bringing up things that at one time never bothered him, but now was a big deal.

You didn’t help matters as you lashed back out toward him. Throwing some of your own grievances toward him. Adding fuel to the fire.

The fight continued all the way back to his apartment, where the climax of it happens, and he storms out again. Leaving you to crumble onto his couch to cry alone at his place, and stupid you didn’t want to leave in case he came back. Which he did, well after you fell asleep waiting for him and wishing you just went home instead.

Maybe then you wouldn’t remember how comforting but souring the scent of him on his pillows were to your nostrils. Or the way he slipped into bed behind you, curling against your back and encasing you to him. The safe feeling of his arms shaken.

You didn’t end up making up until the next day, Joshua making sure to praise every part of you and spoil you to show you, but everything had changed after that night. But what bothered you most, was you still didn’t know what caused him to snap the way he did.

It was the first noticeable crack to the walls.

--

Dinner was amazing, the pasta and steak were cooked exactly to your liking and melted in your mouth with every bite. The conversation between you flowed so naturally, almost making you forget everything that had happened, and there wasn’t a moment of silence. The words between the two of you filled the air through the different topics.

It felt like a time when everything was once okay, hell it felt even better opening back up to him, and it sparked a good feeling inside you. You didn’t stop the flirtatious smile when you catch his eyes dropping down to your lips, watching the way they moved when you spoke, take sips of your wine, or even taking bites of your food. Finding yourself reaching out for Joshua’s hand often when you could, feeling it nearly engulf your smaller hand, and his thumb brush over the skin of your knuckles.

With every touch, laugh, and gentle teases, it only seemed to wash away the doubts that were plaguing you before the date started. Repairs already underway and adding space for new memories.

Maybe you were making things more complicated than it should be for yourself. Your anxiety and concerns tricking you into thinking that this was to be harder then it really was. Thinking it was going to be a challenge to even get past this date, but when really, everything about the night thus far only seemed to be providing you with what you needed.

This.

You and Joshua.

Only, you still had that rational side that would not let you be fooled by this unsecure comfort. Tonight went well, but that was only one step.

You shared dessert, instead of getting your own, and took turns feeding each other the creamy pastry that was ordered. Even snapping a few photos of each other taking bites of the dessert, giggling and laughing at some of the faces you both were making. You planned to post the photos later, not thinking or caring what this said to the world.

Once the final bite was eaten, Joshua paid the bill, and the two of you left the restaurant hand in hand.

“I am so stuffed.” Joshua proclaimed with a satisfied sigh, patting his stomach, both of you just strolling without much thought of where you were going. The marketplace had gotten busier during dinner, the sidewalks filled with couples on dates, or friends just hanging out. “Did you enjoy dinner?”

“Of course, I can see why it’s so popular. The food was amazing,” You tell him, before feeling a tug and you found yourself twisting to stand in front of him. Letting go of your hand, Joshua reached for your waist to pull you to him, taking a step back so you weren’t blocking the path of others.

With one hand moving to your hair, gently grasping the strands at the back of your head, Joshua pressed his forehead against yours. Your own hands now moving to hook around his neck.

“You’re amazing,” He said softly, causing you to pull back to get a better look at his face. His eyes shining, the corners crinkling from the widest smile you have ever seen playing on his face, but your eyes paying attention to his mouth. Maybe it was the few glasses of wine you and him had together loosening you up to his touch and loosen your own touch on him.

“No, I’m not,” You whisper, expecting him to argue with you, but instead he kisses you for the first time that night. Brief, tasting like the wine and the sweetness of the dessert you shared, but it make you chase his lips when he pulled back.

“It’s alright to be wrong, sometimes.” That is all he says, teasingly, with a playful energy playing off him. You feigned a fake gasp before he lets you go long enough to take your hand again, “Coffee? Then check out those buskers down a ways.”

“Sure.”

After the coffees were secured, you choosing a warm option while he chose an iced one, you found yourselves in the back of a small crowd to watch the buskers Joshua had mentioned. It was a duo covering popular songs, with one on the guitar and the other singing. There wasn’t a theme to songs being chosen, mostly taking requests from the crowd.

“A lot of those are what you, Jihoon, and Hansol wrote, huh?” You ask softly, leaning more into him so that only he could hear you. This earned a nod from Joshua, a proud smile accompanying it. His arm was now around your shoulder, keeping you close to him as the crowd picked up around you. “Maybe you can sing those again to me later?”

“Why?” He asked with a laugh, and you looked toward him with a raised brow. Joshua wasn’t looking at you, just looking forward with his eyes still trained on the duo performing.

You knew that his dream wasn’t to be a songwriter, he wanted to be the one singing and performing the songs instead. He wanted his voice to be heard by the world, he wanted to make it with his friends, but instead he was the one behind many of the songs that were popular today. It was a story that was held close to their hearts, one that you didn’t know the full details; only the thirteen of them.

“Why not?” You shoot back, and he finally casts a glance toward you before directed you to a free bench. Far enough away from the crowd, but close enough to still hear the buskers easily, “Maybe, I rather hear you sing them. They always sound better coming from you.”

“Okay, okay, enough of the flattery.” Joshua shook his head removing the arm that was around you, making it easier for him to turn toward you. Giving you his full attention and giving you a perfect view of the way his straw finds its way to his mouth. His soft lips wrapping around it, “You already have me, so you don’t need to butter me up.”

If only that statement was a hundred percent true. Nothing was official yet.

“If anything, I need to be the one flattering you more,” He continued, and you look down at your coffee. Feeling your skin growing warm at this comment, and it only seemed to worsen when he leans forward to say more into your ear. “Like I can’t get over how beautiful you look tonight.”

“Cliché.” You make a show of rolling your eyes, and this makes him laugh. “Try better.”

“Hmmm,” Joshua taps his chin, pretending to think. Then a mischievous smirk graced his lips. “How about, I want to hear you sing some of these songs to me.”

“I thought this was flattery, not lying. There is a reason I am a makeup artist to the idols, and not an idol myself, and you know it.” You make an even bigger show of rolling your eyes at this, but you loved the way Joshua’s laughter filter through the air. Looking at you like he used to wish soft loving eyes, not hard ones with little to no emotions behind them. Unless it was frustration.

Then it hit you why this was harder for you than you thought. You both just ignored that part of the conversation and were trying to jump in without fleshing out the real issue. What caused everything to go wrong the first time? What did you do wrong? What did he do wrong? What did you both do wrong? Did anyone do anything wrong or was it meant to turn south? Was it your fault, his fault, both or no ones?

The questions were now at the tip of your tongue, but at the same time, you didn’t want to spoil this moment. You and Joshua were together again, with everything about the night going great, and for the first time in months you felt like you were truly happy again.

Your name filtered into your earshot, and it was like you were suddenly snapped out of your thoughts. Finding yourself trying to not spiral into the nagging feeling that only minutes ago was barely even there. It was as if you couldn’t just enjoy the moment for what it was, reconnecting, and try to find balance with each other without fear of collapsing.

“You in there?” Joshua asked softly, concern etched all over him, with his hand giving yours a gentle squeeze. “You okay?”

“Ye…Yeah.” You answer quickly, letting out a nervous chuckle. You continued to answer, not realizing you had changed languages again. “Just was thinking is all.”

“About?” He presses softly, and there it was, there was your moment. To say something, to ask the questions that you should have asked the previous morning. Time to put it out there, maybe not the best place, here in the middle of a busy marketplace. The rock melody of the song that the buskers were singing in the background.

Speak now or forever hold—

“About how we should start back to you place.” You suggest, deciding this was not the place to ask this questions, and Joshua looked surprised by your suggestion. He watched the way your bottom lip found its way between your teeth, picking up the subtle hints to your words.

“Okay, lets go then,” He answers, pulling you up with him as he stood. Your hand firm in his, and he leans in to steal a kiss from you. One you return easily.

--

The television only played in the background, white noise to the both of you since neither of you were paying attention. Instead you were lost in the feel of Joshua’s lips moving against yours, slow and teasing, keeping the kisses shallow. Only giving you a taste of his tongue, giving the illusion that he was deepening your make out, but he would pull back at the last moment. Little shit.

His hair grasped between your fingers, and while his hands roamed over the grey tank you were in. Purposely avoiding your breasts to feel the rest of your torso and up your back. Your sweater had been discarded only a few minutes previous, and on the ground behind the couch now forgotten. The sole focus was each other.

Joshua then pressed against your ribs gently, indicating that he wanted you to lay back onto the couch. This movement made you break from each other, only for him to follow your lips as you lay back, bracing himself with one arm above you. Neither of you were exactly sure how it escalated to this, not that you were in a rush to, but one minute he had chosen to turn on something and the next you were attached at the mouth.

It only fueled your growing need for him, one that was coming back with a vengeance, and it was hard to keep yourself from being the one to the push further. Joshua, while eager to fuck you into the cushions of his sofa, held back until you gave him the signal. If it didn’t come, then he was alright with that too. He still knew how to kiss you and touch you in a way that was the next best thing to sex, even if it left him still frustrated. Making you want to satisfy him in whatever way you could.

But there was something still nagging you. That question that was playing in your head since the bench at the marketplace, one that plagued you during the walk back to his place and trying to stop you from enjoying the night with him.

What went wrong?

“Joshua…” You spoke finally when his mouth moved to quickly down your neck to the spot between your neck and collarbone that made you weak.

“Hmm.” Was his response back, his mouth still on your skin. Your body was putty to him and his touch, wanting him to keep going. It didn’t give away the war going on in your head, or the words about to fall from your lips was going to bring this all to a halt.   

“What went wrong?” The moment the words left your lips, you wished you just kept your mouth shut. Feeling his whole body going rigid, stopping his movements, not needing you to elaborate on what you meant.

When he pulls back to look at you, you wished even more that you kept your mouth shut or at least waited. Or brought it up sooner. Panic washing over you like a waterfall at the unreadable look on his face, but his eyes were a mixture of emotions. Taken off guard by your sudden question.

“You’re asking that now?” He asked, sitting back and removing the comfort of his weight off you. Your hands reach out involuntarily, trying to grab his shirt or arms to stop him, not wanting him to be removed from you. Only for him to already be out of your reach.

“I… I meant to ask earlier… I meant to ask yesterday, but…” You start to stutter out, wanting to punch yourself for not getting the most serious question asked and answered. You both were clear that whatever it was made you both different people, but never got down to the root cause. “Fuck… I shouldn’t have said anything right now.”

You shouldn’t have said anything, you were so right with that, you should have waited. Or just accepted that he still wanted you and regrets letting whatever it was get in the way. You tried to tell yourself that the reasoning doesn’t matter, who was or wasn’t at fault didn’t matter. This was the first time in such a long time that you had Joshua back. You had hope that the last several months were just nothing but a bad dream, and that you came back to each other for a reason. Your hearts still connected and never moved on.

The details shouldn’t matter.

Where the hell did this woman come from? Only hours before you weren’t even sure where you both stood, ready to accept whatever came, and now you were terrified you ruined this. Grabbing for him like he was going to disappear or change his mind, and you lost all your reservations after one good date. All those months of trying to heal, to build walls back up, and where did that bring you with him?hihis

Still a desperate mess for this man. Nothing changed. There was no real resolve, you knew from the moment you hit the unblock that you were going to let him in, no matter how stupid it was. You were so ready to move back into that broken home with all the cracks and holes. Be content in the state it was in.

Joshua then looked away from you, his eyes switching now to guilt. He pulls completely away from you to sit forward, his head in his hands.

“I feel like you’re going to hate me,” He said softly, dropping his hands down before sitting back. Your heart dropped. “I never looked at someone else, or ever considered cheating on you, I would never do something like that. There was a stretch when you were on tour with that group, the disbanded one, that… I don’t know. I didn’t miss you, didn’t feel the rush to respond to your messages or calls. I knew I loved you, especially when we did video chat, or I got pictures from you. I felt it when I saw your pretty face and smile. Except then the call ended, and it was like a relief. A chore that I got over with, and I hated it. I hated that I loved you so much, but I didn’t miss you like I did these last few months.”

You could feel everything around you start to buzz as you stared at him. This time instead of your heart in your throat, it took a different route and plummeted into your stomach.

“When you got back, though, I was so happy to have you back. It felt so good to have you back, but the way I felt when you were gone was confusing. It didn’t make sense to me, and I got mad,” He continued to speak honestly, “I should have been mad at myself for feeling as irrational as I did. Unable to figure out if it was signs of the end, or if I was just confusing being busy with work with something else. Instead, I became mad at everything about us. I became mad at you, and at your job that took you away from me for weeks on end at times, and the complacent feeling I would get.

I started looking at the little things as issues, every little thing bothering me. It made me irritable and then we started fighting.” You watch as he pushes his fingers through his hair, pushing the mused strands back to a lazy semblance of how he had it styled for the night. The styling products still there enough to help keep hold. “It only made everything I was feeling worse because when we did fight, I couldn’t stop thinking about how much happier I could feel without you. That maybe I should just end it, but I kept holding on because the good times, fuck, they reminded me why I loved you as much as I do. That the fights were trivial and should have never been arguments in the first place. Things that could have been worked out by just talking like adults if we weren’t so angry with each other.

Then we would fight again, normally over something stupid, and all common sense went out the window. I just wanted to get away from you in those moments and began to look for reasons to not be around you. Everyone was so fed up with me too. Jeonghan and Coups were ready to murder me. Said fix it or just end it.” The sigh that left his lips wasn’t comforting, then again, nothing he was saying was making you feel better. “Then after our last fight, I just decided to let go. Thought it got so bad, that even if we did try to talk things out, we were too far gone to be worth saving.”

This was a mistake. You were a fool.

“If… if we weren’t worth saving then…” your words were slow, the doubt that had been slowly fading away was now rearing its head back. Ready to engulf you completely, and a voice screaming at you for bringing you right back to square one. And it was no one else’s fault but your own. “What makes you think we’re worth saving now?”

“Because of the same reason as I had told you yesterday. I realized my mistake and now that I know what it’s like to lose you…”

“But why did it take losing me?” You cut him off with this question, flinching back from his hand reached for your face. Stopping him from wiping away the tears that were starting to involuntarily fall, and you couldn’t take this pain in your chest again. You then stood and Joshua looked even more panicked. “Why did it have to take leaving me to make you realize that? Why couldn’t you realize that sooner?”

Joshua tried to grab your wrist, but you pulled it away. You were too focused on that he felt that you weren’t worth saving. You were too focused on the doubt that was filling you and how stupid you were for letting yourself do this again. If that was his feelings when he first broke up with you, what made him think history won’t repeat itself?

Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. (Albert Einstein)

And the two of you were insane to think anything different.

Your name came from his lips as more of a plea, but you felt like you were in going into a spiral. Your mind’s reeling, feeling you being pulled further under water. Lungs burning with each breath.

“It shouldn’t have taken that for you to realize how much I meant to you.” You whispered, taking off toward his door, with every intention of leaving. This has been a mistake, and you regretted ever agreeing to anything. You regretted rushing over to his apartment the way you did, you regretted even considering to let him back in. For letting him back in. “I’m sorry, but I am not about to be made a fool again. I can’t do that to myself.”

“Wait,” Joshua called out, stopping you from making it to the door, grabbing the hand reaching out for the handle to twist you back toward him. You could see in his own eyes tears welling, and his own heart was breaking. Especially at the sight of the tears falling freely down your cheeks.

They were like the tears that he didn’t get to see after that fated phone call, it was like the pain of that day all over again, and he finally got to see it. With it written all over your face, that you let yourself revert back to that broken woman. You tried to push him away, but he wouldn’t let you go. Instead pulling you more to him by your waist.

He let you hit and push against his chest, hitting him in mixtures of fists and slapping of your palms, but Joshua still didn’t let you go. He wasn’t going to let you walk through that door, not in the state you were in, not when he finally had you back. Instead he let you fight against his chest, with each hit and push starting to grow weaker, but your sobs were only starting. Why did you even say anything?

You were just breaking each other’s hearts all over again.

“Why did it take that, Joshua? How can I believe you won’t do this again?” You sobbed out, the fight to get away from him dissipated, and you could only cling to his shirt. A patch being created by your tears growing darker. One hand still wrapped around you to keep you against him, while the other was now cradling your head. “How can we believe I won’t do it this time? How can we be sure this won’t implode and leave us even more broken? I don’t think I can take another heartbreak from this…”

“We don’t know…” Even though he was telling the truth, you didn’t want to hear that. You wanted to be lied to, or to just be let go. You hated how much you latched back to him now, how easily you let him in again. Like a moth to a flame. Why you broke off contact.

Joshua then pulls back, cupping your face so you had no choice but to look at him, to meet his eyes. Still shining from tears that wanted to fall, but soft and full of nothing by love and determination. With his thumb brushing away a tear, smearing the black streaks of mascara and eyeliner, he continued “But I do know that we need to try to find out, and we won’t go through this moment again. Even if it’s only for a few weeks, few months, or for the rest of our lives, I will fight every day of it to make you happier then you ever have been. We won’t let the issues that we once let get in the way do it again. We will work through them and find resolutions.

I love you and if I haven’t stopped by now, then I never will.” His mouth was on yours, kissing you with a purpose. Every truth behind his words poured into it, the love he truly feels for you was pouring out like a waterfall. A few of his own tears hitting your cheek as you returned the kiss.

You couldn’t stop yourself as you clung to him, the grip on his shirt was like a vice and you didn’t want to let go in case everything around you would disappear. That he would fade into darkness, and you were alone.

“Please, don’t walk out that door. I don’t care if I deserve it, please don’t leave.” His voice was strained when he pulled himself from your lips, every part of him told you he was trying to not break himself. Both of you so vulnerable.

“I don’t think I can if I tried…” You whisper, and it was your turn to brush away his tears. “I’m scared though…”

“I am too, so let’s be scared together.” His answer in his own whisper, the corners of his lips turning up into a weak smile. The thumb that had been brushing your tears away was now running over the stains on your cheeks. Smearing the streaks of make up in attempts to clean them away, and it only made you look sillier. Except he was looking at you like he was falling deeper in love with you. Your name fell from his lips, full of unspoken and spoken promises, ones that you could only hope that he doesn’t break. “Will you stay?”

You didn’t answer him with words, instead with a nod. You didn’t trust your words to not come out cracked and strange. You couldn’t trust your voice not to break into another wave tears, not wanting to deal with the already bubbling guilt for turning such a good moment sprouting into a fucked up one.

Maybe the events that happened, were meant to happen in the order it needed. To break yourselves open and allow the hurt to be seen. To clear out what you were so willingly to ignore and could have been what broke you again. Bring it out in the open, and let that part start to heal.

You weren’t going to leave, you knew the moment he stopped you from leaving that there was no way you could. Your heart was screaming for him, overtaking any logic and pain you were feeling in your chest. You couldn’t walk away when he was looking at you like that.

You two were worth saving. You two were worth the work.

It was you who moved in to kiss him, slow and timid, with Joshua letting you decide how far you wanted to go. His hand still holding your face, with your own moving from his chest to his waist. The hem of his shirt at your fingertips, his skin only a layer of fabric away.

It suddenly wasn’t enough for you, you needed him closer than this. You needed to feel his skin under your touch, against your own skin. Leading you to deepen the kiss between you while he was slow to respond, not wanting to see too eager at your forwardness.

Words were no longer being exchanged as you pulled away. Your eyes looking into his beautiful fawn like ones, taking in the way the way they haven’t stopped shining with love. You were looking at him the same way, you knew this, and feeling the foundation slowly becoming solid once more. The repairs were still plenty, nothing being fixed and repaired overnight, but it’s a start.

A promise of a better future.

Gripping at the hem of his shirt, you begin to bunch the fabric to push up his torso. Joshua picked up what you were trying to do, breaking away from you enough to pull the shirt off. Letting it slowly drop to the ground, it left him in nothing but his dark jeans and giving away the perfect view to his defined shoulders and chest. The food from that night adding a softness to his stomach, but when your hands moved over it, you could still feel the muscles he worked so hard for.

Two of the members of his large friend group were personal trainers, and Joshua would go to one of them, but you could never remember which one it was. Mingyu? Wonwoo? It was one of them, and you really needed to confirm who so you could thank him for his contribution to Joshua’s breathtaking frame.

“Bedroom?” You breathed out softly, before his mouth could reclaim yours. His hand back to your head, tilting it back to kiss you better. Allowing your tongues to languidly dance, while your own traced over his smooth skin. Your body growing hot and needy for him.

“Are you sure?” He asked, moving his mouth just far enough away to be sure of your request, his voice husky with his own mix of need for you. Along with every other emotion rocketing through him. It’s been months since he was taking you to bed for more than sleeping, making it feel like it was the first time all over. “I can understand if you want to wait. However long you need.”

“Fuck waiting.” There was so much confidence behind those words, not leaving any room for doubt on his part. With the words barely leaving your lips before you were swept into the bedroom by Joshua. A surprise squeal leaving your lips.

--

**Two and a half years ago**

The first time you had sex with Joshua, you never felt more full and complete with a partner. You never knew this man was capable of mixing loving words with vulgar ones with that sweet voice of his. The soft tones of it ringing them in your ears, his cock filling you with the purpose of bringing you to your peak over and over. Filling the room with confessions of love while also making sure you knew how much he intended on making you nothing but a mess on his couch.

He called you names that normally wouldn’t be okay in any other settings as he twisted you into whatever position to help make you see stars and colors bursting behind your lids. Telling you how perfect you were to him, perfect for him.

Joshua’s balance of being so tender and loving while also being so rough and dirty was dizzying but refreshing all the same. His touch was something out of a perfect erotica, seemingly written with your body in mind, leaving you spent in his arms.

Until he started to whisper how he wanted to wake up to you every morning, just so he could start the morning with his mouth between your legs. All while his own hand snaked between your legs to your swollen cunt. Earning several more rounds that night.

And then him doing exactly what he said he would the next morning. Start your morning with his mouth.

--

Neither of you wasted any time pulling off what was left of your clothes, throwing them haphazardly around the bedroom as you entered. Your tank thrown over his dresser, his jeans left at the door, your jeans on his desk, bra and underwear seeming to now be lost in the ether; or behind his nightstand. It was like a clash of bodies falling onto the bed, and you found yourself under him, naked, thighs caging his brief covered hips.

A once very familiar setting, with his mouth molded against yours like a missing a piece of a puzzle. His hands gentle yet heavy on your skin, burning touch into you like a brand. An invisible brand to show that you were his.

Cupping your breasts, Joshua teased at your harden peaks between his fingers, earning a soft moan at his touch. You always loved the size of his hands, easily able to take handfuls of part of you with ease that others could barely grasp, and he would move them with a purpose over your body. Feeling how familiar yet different under his touch and taking in the changes over your body over the months.

Little scars that came with having a cat, one particular one on your thigh from when he used you to stop from falling off the couch. The changes of your skin and weight, a new beauty mark that had appeared. New pieces of you to learn and find perfect.

Your own hands were through his dark hair, your hips jutting up to grind against his covered length. Earning groans from him that vibrated through your body, meeting your grind as your arousal soaked the front of his briefs. When your hands moved from his hair down to his hips, he stopped you from removing the article of clothing. Breaking away so the two of you could get some air.

“Not yet,” He told you breathlessly, giving away his fight to keep control from just rushing anything. “It’s been too long since I touched this body… you can’t rush this.”

He was never the type to rush things, even if it was meant to be a quickie, Joshua always make sure you were well taken care of first, whether it was with his hand or taking you to the edge over and over with his tongue, he couldn’t go without providing you with plenty of pleasure. Even before he would accept any reciprocation for it, something you took great care in returning the favor, or before he would fill you with his cock until you were sated in each other’s arms. Leaving you too exhausted to move.

“Shua…” You let out a small whine, knowing that he was going to have you on the brink of madness until he finally fucked you. His words sent a new wave of heat through your body, your cunt already soaked for him, the fresh set of evidence adding to the wet patch of his briefs. His mouth moves against the column of your neck, gently nipping and sucking at the flesh. Careful not to leave anything, but there wasn’t a promise you wouldn’t have anything anywhere else. “Please, don’t make me wait.”

“Oh, Darling,” Joshua cooed into your chest, not wasting time to reach your breasts to slip a nipple into his mouth. Teasing, with quick little flicks of his tongue before pulling back, making you arch to chase his tongue. Wanting to feel the warmth of his mouth then the cold air of the apartment against the wet peak. His mouth returned to your skin this time to give attention to the other breast, a hand moving between the two of you to your cunt. With his middle finger, he slid of over your slit. “You don’t have to wait too long, trust me, but I am still taking my time. I want to make sure you are begging for me.”

Slipping between your folds, Joshua couldn’t stop the moan that left him feeling just your slick, whatever words that he was trying say with it muffled by your skin. You didn’t even give a single fuck whatever was even said, likely something that would only send another rush of heat through your body. Your mind on the way his fingers moved like they never forgotten the way you worked or liked being touched.

Tracing your aching clit with his finger, Joshua pulled away from your breasts to rest your forehead against the soft skin. His own breathing starting to grow heavier, his cock straining against the wet fabric at how worked up you easily got for him. It was taking everything in him to not throw your legs over and devour you.

To keep tasting you until you were begging for more, begging for him and his cock. It never ceased to amazed him how turned on you would get for him, just how easily your body responded to him. As if he was the key to unlocking all your deepest of desires, needs, and feelings. While you unlocked his.

You whimper under him, your hips rocking to continue to meet his fingers, impatient to be touched more. You didn’t want to be a begging underneath Joshua Hong, you wanted to be well fucked by him.

You didn’t just want it, you needed it. Feeling like you needed it to be more than you needed to breathe. But at the same time, the slow torture he was doing to you was like a drug you couldn’t get enough of. His fingers dipping into you was enough to send you near spiraling, nothing else on your mind but his touch.

To anyone else, you probably would look ridiculous in the state you were in. Hair a mess over his pillow, your lips swollen, body moving desperately at his touch, and face already fucked out. Only when Joshua sat back enough to take you in, it was nothing but a beautiful sight. The way your body moved at his touch, how his finger would glisten, and he barely had been touching you.

“Can I taste you?” He asks desperately, pushing his bottom lip between his teeth before an uncharacteristic moan involuntarily left his lips hearing the wet sounds when his fingers started to pick up speed. “Please…”

“Fuck yes.” The answer came out more eager then you intended, but in all honesty, with the way he got your mind already near mush without even fucking you yet, you weren’t sure how you intended it. Whatever it originally had been was lost when he added another finger.

This was one of the rare times Joshua didn’t waste any time, removing himself from you. Including his fingers, much to your dismay, only for you to feel his hands at the back of your thighs. You let out a small gasp when he pushes them forward, opening you completely to him. His mouth was then on you, running the flat of his tongue over your slit, planting a soft kiss over your clit.

His mouth then moved with fever, dipping and tracing the inside of your folds, savoring your taste back on his tongue. He remembered the exact places that that got the best reactions from you, like he was getting from you just then. Your hands gripping at his hair, with sounds that you hadn’t made since the last time you were in bed with him spilling from you. Sounds that only he could pull from you, especially when his tongue circles your hole before dipping in.

Joshua couldn’t stop his own sounds, moaning and groaning at the taste and sounds coming from you, fucking into you with his tongue before his mouth returned its attention to your clit.

In replacement of his mouth, you felt his fingers returned, his middle and ring finger teasing you in time with his tongue. Not yet pushing them into your heat, like you wanted to, just letting you feel his fingertips right there.

“Shua, please.” You didn’t have anything else to say other than that, your eyes rolling, with your brain and mouth unable to decide what language to use. The fingers laced in his hair pulled in hopes to show him what you wanted. Which he gave you eagerly.

With two fingers pushed into you, his mouth continued its assault on your clit, switching strategically between sucking and lapping at it. Making sure he was in perfect time with the rhythm he created with his hand, stretching you while your inner walls clenched back. Trying to suck his fingers deeper into you.

“I missed how good you tasted, just like heaven,” He spoke, releasing you with a soft pop, watching the way his fingers pumped into you. Stretching you open before flicking his eyes up toward your face, smirking to himself at the look on your face was contorted to. Skin hot from flush, mouth slightly fallen open with small sounds leaving it. Your brows were slightly furrowed with your eyes only half open, but you weren’t looking at him. “Look at me, Darling.”

You did as he requested, catching sight at the shine covering all around his mouth and almost dripping from his chin, and the way his tongue disappeared between his fingers during one tantalizing stretch. He did this a few more times, before finding his way back up to your engorged clit.

It was like the ground crumpled from under you, your body starting to shake, and he held eye contact the entire time. Watching you fall apart from his place between your legs, his mouth and hand still working on you through your orgasm until oversensitivity started to set in. You try to close your legs on him, but he stopped you, able to keep your legs firmly in place with ease, and completely unfazed by the pull you had on his hair.

Words were lost in your throat with only cries and moans escaping, while Joshua let out a soft sigh, wanting to pull another orgasm out of you before his mouth parted from you. That sigh vibrated against you, and you nearly jerked back so hard that you nearly hit his headboard.

“Too much,” You pant out, making Joshua finally relent so he could move up the length of your body to kiss you. His hands pulling you back, so you were under him, cupping your face letting you taste yourself on his tongue. He wanted to rut against you, but was holding back since that once delicious feel of his briefs was now too rough.

Letting you have time to recover and decide if you wanted to keep going. For all Joshua knew, you may not want to go further than this.

“You have no idea how much I want to keep eating your sweet cunt,” He spoke, breaking from the kiss, and gave you a half smile. “You taste so good, and I don’t want to stop.”

“Maybe I want you to get reacquainted with something else other than your mouth though.” You suggest, the hands that were once tangled in his hair now moving over his shoulders, tracing them down the side of his back. Taking in the way muscles under his skin, enjoying the way they moved under your touch.

“And what is that something else?” He pressed, arching his brow when you didn’t elaborate, holding your gaze. But he knew damn well what you mean by that, not caring that you were now trying to push his briefs off him instead of using your words. This only made him chuckle as he shakes his head, removing himself from you and the bed.

Joshua briefs clinging low on his hips from your attempts to remove them, the base of his cock appearing above where the band was resting. Your mouth watered at the sight, your eyes moving up his body, taking it all in again before landing him up to his face. One of the sexiest sights you’ve ever seen.

Pupils blown out from arousal and desire, smirk playing over his lips as he watched you, before leaning over to open the small cabinet of his nightstand. Getting a condom out. You could hear your name being spoken, but you couldn’t bring yourself to respond. Your attention was back down to his partially covered cock. Just looking at it made you clench around nothing, at the thought of tasting it again or feeling it finally inside you.

It wasn’t until he grasped your jaw gently that you were pulled back into reality. His face very close to yours.

“Did I lose you for a minute again, Darling?” Joshua’s words were soft, near a whisper, your eyes now being held by his. “Tell me what you want, and I will give it to you.”

“I want you…” You whispered back, feeling a puff of breath hit your face from his soft scoff. Of course you wanted him.

“And how do you want me?”

“Fuck me please…” These words came out louder clearer, and earned a triumphant grin from the dark haired man before letting you finally remove his underwear. Finally freeing his cock, and you couldn’t stop from looking right to it. Thick, hard, and ready for you.

“You know, it doesn’t matter how rough or dirty we get, we aren’t actually fucking…” He tells you with a sudden firm voice, his hand moving with quick skillfulness with the condom. Unwrapping it and slipping it on, as you processed the statement and honestly surprised by it. Then you saw the way the smirk turned into an amused and proud smile for whatever corny thing he was continuing to say. “Because…”

Climbing onto the bed, Joshua fitted himself back between your legs, his cock brushing against your weeping cunt. Using an arm to keep him held up, he was able to see the way your eyes fluttered at the contact and your hips push against him. Trying to move them to catch his cock with your entrance but whined when you couldn’t.

With another kiss, Joshua aligned himself with you before pushing in.

“Because… fuck you’re so tight… we only make love.” He moans out, feeling you stretch around his cock, his own eyes fluttering at how you fit snuggly around him.

If Joshua wasn’t in the process of filling and stretching you, you would have rolled your eyes at the cheesiness of his comment. The only thing that you could think about was him sheathing himself completely into you, his hips now flushed against yours. Nails digging into his back, you clung to him, just the feeling of him nearly took you over. Your body still sensitive from your last orgasm and his mouth, and just adjusting to him sent you reeling.

Maybe you should’ve allowed yourself more time to get over this sensitivity or have him work you some more so you can adjust easier. Joshua was much bigger than anyone you had been with before and after him, especially in girth, so your body had to get used to him again.

You should have told him to not move, to give you a moment.

But you did not do that.

“Move..” You beg, capturing his mouth in a kiss with your own, feeling him pull his hips back in a slow pace. Just enough to pull halfway out right before his hips snapped forward, meeting your eager hips with a resounding clap.

You were happy when Joshua took over the kiss, swallowing your moans and whimpers with each swipe of his tongue. This build was quick, taking his time was out of the window, his thrusts were meticulous, but strong. With each one taking your breath away, even more so when he angled his hips just right to brush against the sensitive nerves.

Leaving you to nearly floating to the stars.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” His words were soft compared to how he was fucking you into the mattress, his breath coming out even more labored while his eyes stayed trained on you. You were already close again, the knot tightening with what felt like lightning speed, already threatening to snap. Teetering you on the edge, that was starting to give way under you. Nothing but Joshua was holding you there, to keep you from falling when the ground gave way until that perfectly timed thrust. “You have no idea how much I missed you… missed seeing you so pretty under me like this.”

You managed out something that maybe sounded like you missed him too, taking in how gorgeous he looked with his face twisted with concentration and pleasure, but each word was lost between small gasps and sounds only that he could pull from you. Your hands moved up his back to his hair, leaving several scratches in its wake, to bring him back into another kiss.

A desperate one. One that he returned with vigor.

You could feel yourself breaking in half, your body starting to shake and your legs locking around him. With Joshua wrapping his own arms around you, his own release racing to catch up. Each thrust growing more frantic, sloppy, while your walls began to spasm around him.

“I love you,” He gasped your name out, breaking from the kiss to press his forehead against yours, mixing the sweat that was beading on both your brows. You weren’t sure if he was still looking at you or not, your own eyes tightly shut, feeling an intense wave of pleasure wash over you.

With that perfectly timed thrust.

The threat snapped, and it felt like every muscle in you was on fire as they tensed and tightened. Your inner walls clenching around his cock tightly, enough to pull him with you. Filling the condom with stripes of cum, his hips still moving with difficulty, trying to ride through your orgasms together, but you nearly had him locked in place.

Soon his struggling and sloppy thrusts slowed to a stop, both of you still clinging to each other. Unable to part as you stole slow, languid kisses between each pant through the come down of your high. As your mind cleared, you knew that he was going to have to separate from you, oversensitivity feeling like it was sending you both into overdrive, but you didn’t want to. You didn’t want to lose the heat that his body was providing you.

When he finally did part from you, he didn’t stay away from you long, just enough to dispose of his condom and get you both cleaned up, before he had you back in his arms. Keeping your body pressed against him, peppering soft kisses over your face before reaching your lips. Then repeating the process with overexaggerated movements, your laugher ringing through the room.

The laughter slowly died when he caught your gaze, giving you such a look of love. One that was new and wasn’t a look he had given you before.

You weren’t going to give up, you loved him too much to do that and would do anything to not let him again. It was a long road ahead, but you knew that if he kept looking at you like that, it will all work out.

--

“I’m so sorry,” You tell him softly, though there wasn’t an ounce of guilt on your part, your fingers tracing the red raised lines that you left on his back. Taking in the damage that was done with a hint of smugness.

Joshua had been laying on his stomach, still naked like you were, with a sheet resting at his waist and his face buried into his pillow. Eyes closed, but not sleeping, his body relaxed under your touch. Enjoying the way your traced over the designs your nails made and created invisible ones with the tips of your fingers.

His mind was a mixture of content and buzzing with the events replaying over and over in his head. From the last few days ago, to the activities you both were up to over the last few hours.

Neither of you felt sated after the first round, barely getting cleaned up and cuddled in bed before you were at it again. Joshua having you in so many different positions. Pinned to the bed like the first time, you riding his cock as he took in the way your breasts bounced with enthusiasm. Making it impossible to resist grasping them with his hands and teasing the pebbles with his mouth. The fatty flesh muffling all his words of encouragement to pull more orgasms from you.

You on your knees as he fucked your throat, watching as tears welled in your eyes when looking up to him, it made him cum down your throat almost immediately. Once recovered, he had you face down into the mattress and hips propped up by pillows. Knowing your body was starting to wear out, even if your desire for him had not. It also gave him an angle to hit your bundle of nerves just right, and you ended up leaving small tears in his sheets from your nails.

All the different sounds came from you, the slick sounds of his cock pumping into your wet cunt to the different moans and whimpers, hearing his name in such a desperate way. It sounded more beautiful than music itself to him.

All because they came from you.

There was no way he was ever going to get enough of you, but both bodies were completely worn out when the sun started to peak over the horizon. But neither of you were able to sleep, instead just lying there, with you tracing his skin with your fingers. He wasn’t sure but he thought he felt you spell out both of your names. English and Hangul.

“You don’t sound it,” He answers back, one arm under his pillow and the other thrown lazily over your waist. He wasn’t looking at you, his eyes still closed and buried into the soft pillow, but he could see the amused smile you were now sporting clearly in his brain.

“You’re right, I’m not.”

“So, is this a yes?” Joshua asked suddenly, turning his head toward you. His eyes now open to catch the confused look on your face. “You said you were looking forward to having some lazy days ahead. I asked you if you wanted to spend those lazy days together, remember?”

“Yeah…”

“You wanted to see how our date went, and I would think it was pretty successful if this moment has anything to say about it. So I am hoping it’s now a yes. I am sure that Jihoon wouldn’t give a shit if I took a few days off.” This remark made you burst into laughter, this time leaving him confused. Especially when you leaned forward to plant a quick kiss on him, earning an equally confused chuckle, “What?”

“Well, seeing as he is the reason we are back together, I don’t think he would give a shit either.” You continued to laugh as Joshua looked at you like you were talking out of two heads. How did Jihoon have a hand in you being back with him? What did that man do? His look on his face only made you laugh even more. “He’s going to deny it if you talk to him about it, he said he will, but he called me the other night. After you left them at the bar.

He told me that he heard Minjun…as well as some of the things he and his friends were saying about me. Which before you start, fuck them all and I don’t give a shit what they have to say. It was a favor to me.” You were quick to hold your hand up to stop him, knowing by the way his brows furrowed that he was getting upset. He didn’t know what was said, but it still made his blood boil because of whatever it was, it was enough to have you dump him so easily. You continued though, “He also told me how you weren’t yourself after the breakup, and how even though you wouldn’t admit it, you needed me.”

This made any anger that he was feeling start to fade, catching the way you were looking at him. Your eyes shining at him, hair a mess around, and your skin basically glowing in morning sunlight.

“And you believed him?”

“The man doesn’t meddle in drama, or other people’s business. If he puts his two cents in, it’s hard to not believe him.” You shrugged, giving him one of the widest and prettiest smiles he’s ever seen. Ever received. “But, to answer your question. It is a yes. I would love to spend my lazy days with you.”

Joshua launched himself forward, unable to contain his happiness as his mouth claimed yours with another kiss. His heart feeling like it’s going to explode, adjusting his body so it was now pressed against yours.

“I love you,” You whispered, causing every part of him to freeze with eyes wide and mouth dropped open. He hadn’t expected you to say that, but from the bashful look on your face neither did you. “I wasn’t going to say it, I was intending to wait a little longer. I know you don’t expect me to say it, but I hated that I didn’t say it back both times you told me the last few days. There is no way I cannot say it.

I love you, Joshua Hong. There is no getting away from it, and I don’t want to run from it anymore. I don’t want a life that doesn’t include you.” You tried to hold back the happy tears in your voice. “It doesn’t matter how hard this gets, I am yours through it all. I am going to be here until you’re finally tired of me.”

Joshua could barely hear the last set of words, your voice got so soft it was near inaudible, but he did. Feeling his own eyes starting to sting, he couldn’t stop the smile, nor was he able to stop himself from kissing you again.

One of his favorite things to do.

“Good thing you don’t have to worry about me ever getting tired of you. Because you’re not leaving my side again.” Joshua made sure there was enough space between you, so his words were heard, before diving back in for more kisses.

He wasn’t going to be able to truly make up all those lost moments with you, those lost touches, those lost kisses, but he sure as hell was going to try.

Thank you all for reading! Joshua and Reader will be back! How can I not revisit how these two are doing right? You'll also see them or hear them mentioned in other fics.

Please keep an eye out for the teaser for Part 1 of Jeonghan's. Title coming soon. 💜💜💜

[zepskies]

Aww yay!! I'm so happy to hear that. 🥹💗

so far what I love the most about this series-verse is how, authentic and genuine dean and mila’s relationship is <3 I think maybe I mentioned it when reviewing THC but truly their love feels so sincere 🤍🤍

Omg thank you!! What an amazing compliment, and now I'm blushing. 🥰🥰 With everything these two went through in THC, I wanted their connection to feel real and natural now as they continue learning each other.

I feel like in today’s day & age relationships can be so complicated because there are too many trivial outside factors, but for them in this universe, it’s really just as simple as two people who care a lot for each other making it work. and i absolutely love that 😭💗

Oh God yes, totally agree. 🙃 And there are complications around Mila and Dean, but when it's just the two of them, Dean gets her to remember that them choosing to be together can be as simple or complicated as they allow it to be. It's a choice, day by day, working together. 💕💕

they’re so sweet to each other :’)🫶🏽 even when he puts his foot in his mouth; as soon as he made that comment when learning about the chief I shook my head lol, oh dean 😂

Ahaha he's trying his best. Oh Dean. 😝

But he's so damn charming and adorable, she can't help but let him back into her good graces.

mystery dude better back up!🤺 I do not trust that man at all so far, he gave me such a bad vibe :/ for his sake he better not try anything because not only will dean protect his wife, mila is clearly not to be messed with 🤣 which brings me back to how much I admire her strength! I love that she will speak up for what matters.

He's being sneaky about it, isn't he? 😒 But YES, if Mila doesn't mess him up first, Dean definitely will. 💞 Mila's not one to take things sitting down either.

the thought of dean getting picked on makes me so sad because it’s like, classic bullying :((( I wanna hug him so bad. especially since it’s already been so hard leaving everything and everyone he had behind — the weight of hazing & hard judgement on top of adjusting to everything new must be draining :( honestly I admire his strength too i’m glad she’s providing him with the support he deserves 🫶🏽 because yeah even though he can handle it, he shouldn’t have to ✋🏽😔

Ikr? 😭😭 Dean doesn't deserve this at all, considering how hard he's working to be respectful to their customs, but it's kind of par for the course (he's honestly lucky they let him live). It will get better for him (eventually), but you're right, it is draining for him, even if he doesn't want to admit it to Mila. She's doing her best to be his support system. 💞

also, I did not expect baby x mato but you know what, i’m here for it 😭🙂‍↕️

omgg I was hoping someone would like that part. 😂😂 I honestly didn't plan it when I was writing THC, but it came out when I started developing Outlander. I thought it was a cute lil' tidbit, and it's actually going to play more into the plot later. 😉💗

I'm so excited for you guys to see what's coming for this little series!!

Outlander - Part 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC 

Summary: Dean Winchester has been stripped of his military rank, but he’s living happier with his new wife, trying to adjust to a new life in her tribe. What will it take for her people to accept him, especially when the battle for her heart might not be completely won? 

AN: Ready for some more Cowboy Dean? Here we go with Outlander Part 1! This is a sequel story directly following The Honorable Choice, where Dean not only saves the member of a Native American tribe, but falls in love with her. (She saves him a lot in return.) Now, he’ll have to learn how to live in her world if he wants to stay with her.

This sequel series will be 4 parts! 💜

Disclaimer: I first got inspired to write The Honorable Choice for @jacklesversebingo after a recent rewatch of Spirit: The Stallion of the Cimarron (with a tinge of Yellowstone in the mix). I’ve done a fair bit of research for this now ongoing series, both on the Native American Lakota tribe, and on American history during this time in the late 1800s; AKA: the Old West, during the American Indian Wars.

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: Western AU

Word Count: 5.3K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Suggestiveness/implied smut and spice, hunting (in the more traditional sense), angst, hurt/comfort, and romantic fluff. **Pronunciation guide at the end!

🐎 Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 1: Two Worlds

Her people call this river Little Cheyenne. It’s because Big Cheyenne cuts through the land of the Sioux Indians by half, but Little Cheyenne almost meets it in the south, stretching all the way up to the Black Hills.

Mila’s tribe has always lived near this river. Its waters have bled red during battles with other tribes, and sometimes during battles with White Men.

The White Men’s fort, the one her husband came from, lies farther down in the south. The tribe had to move their village higher north along the river after Mila returned with Dean Winchester, just to be safe.

On a cloudy afternoon, Mila scrubs at a bundle of dirty clothes until they’re clean. She rinses them off in the river and is thorough about her work, but she knows she can’t be here much longer. She has a stew simmering on hot coals in her tipi…

Well, the one she now shares with her husband.

Unconsciously, she smiles. She remembers leading Dean through the tribe, to the place where she hoped he would find rest. They stopped at the foot of her tipi. 

“This one’s yours?” he asked.

She paused, giving him another small smile. 

“Ours.”

Mila continues scrubbing, though she frowns when her fingers slip through a tear in one of the new tunics she made for him (even though he keeps calling it a shirt). The tear was made by a blade, or maybe an arrowhead, she realizes. 

The crunch of feet on the riverbed’s gravel makes her raise her head and look over her shoulder. Unease prickles down her spine. She braces herself for a familiar shadow, come to disturb her peace.    

But then she relaxes. She’s being joined by two of the older women in her tribe. Mila has known them her whole life, and so she calls them tunwin. Aunt. They both greet her kindly and kneel beside her with their own bundles of clothes for washing, but Eyota, the older one, has a sharper eye. She is their tribe’s medicine woman. 

“Your husband wears out his clothes,” she remarks.

“He’s been working hard training with Šóta and the other men,” Mila explains.

“He seems to be learning quickly,” says Misae. She has a more playful glint in her eyes. “Who knew that you could catch and tame a White Man. Looks like they are no different from wild horses.”

Mila smiles slightly, but it’s not genuine. She nods in agreement. “He’s learning quickly.”

She holds her tongue from saying anything else, even though she wants to. Dean isn’t a man to be tamed, any more than she was, in his people’s eyes. She aims to change the subject. 

“Do you have any good herbs or spices for wahonpi? I’ve had the stew simmering all morning,” she asks Eyota. Not only is she a gifted healer, but Eyota is also one of the best cooks, and she knows it. She nods and straightens her shoulders the way she always does when someone asks her for advice—and even when they don’t ask for it.

“Of course, child. What you need is…”

“Goddamn it,” Dean huffs under his breath.

The jackrabbit flees from him again, or more accurately, from his terribly aimed arrow. He’s an excellent marksman…just not with a bow, it seems.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing wrong here, and he’s not likely to figure it out. Not by the way Takoda, Šóta, and the other men are laughing at him.

Dean resists the urge to roll his eyes. He knows when he’s being hazed.

These men are bare-chested warriors, each of them richly tanned under the sun. Most of them wear their hair long, half of it gathered high on their heads, or braided in some way. Šóta is his wife’s cousin, and as the Chief’s son, he wears a small adornment of eagle feathers threaded into his hair. His closest friends are Takoda and Otaktay. Both of them laugh at Dean the most, and in their language, using just enough gestures and body language that Dean knows he’s being talked about. They point at his boots and his brown Stetson hat—two of the only things he’s kept of his own that make him feel comfortable in his own skin.

Finally, Šóta goes over to him. “Good try,” he says, in his usual patronizing tone.

Dean knows he can’t punch out Mila’s cousin, no matter how bad he’s asking for it. Somehow, Dean manages to hold onto his temper.

“What’re they saying?” he asks lowly, gesturing at the two chuckle brothers.

Šóta’s lips twitch. He glances down at Dean’s feet. “They say your…shoes are loud on the earth. You give yourself away before the animal even catches your scent.”

Dean’s given up a lot of things, but his boots won’t be one of them. He wants to learn. He wants to belong here, in Mila’s world, but he also wants to stay himself.

So the men move on, mounting their horses. Dean rides with Baby at a plodding clip. Her black coat ripples with a healthy sheen. He thinks she’s come to enjoy the more natural surroundings and freer pasture of the grasslands, and he can’t deny, this part of it all feels right. The sun peeks through between the dappled leaves of oak trees, painting the ground in red, green, and gold. It’s quiet and beautiful here as Šóta leads the pack through the forest, just southwest of the village.

Eventually, he stops them between a denser thatch of trees and shrub. He raises a hand signal that Dean’s come to recognize. He raises his bow belatedly after the others though. He follows Šóta’s line of vision, and there is a deer grazing in a small clearing. A young buck.

Šóta signals at Dean. Try again, his eyes say.

Dean takes in a deep, quiet breath through his nose, and he takes aim.

He really misses his damn rifle.

Dean shoulders the sting of failure while he makes his way through the camp, leading Baby by the reigns. He drops her off at the large horse pen. There he feeds her and brushes her long coat, all while murmuring soft affectionate things. She’s still one of his only friends here.

But even she leaves him short to join her new friend, Mato. The two have become thick as thieves. Mato greets the black mare with a friendly whinny. Their noses touch in affection, and Mato playfully nips at her ear.

Dean raises his brows. “Well, that’s a little more friendly than usual. You guys start courting when I wasn’t looking?”

He walks over to Mato, who’s softened up to him in recent weeks.

“You sly dog,” Dean remarks, smirking. “Didn’t even ask me for her hand.”

Mato blows a hot breath through his nose at Dean, who has to blink, wiping his face.

“Now that’s just rude.” Still, he offers the mustang an apple from his pocket. Mato takes it from his palm, letting Dean rub his neck while he munches on his snack. “As fathers-in-law go, you lucked out, pal. See? I’m a delight.”

He wouldn’t be surprised if Baby had her first foal by spring. Dean grins at the thought, but it soon falls. If only his father-in-law were so easy to please.

His mind dwells on it as he starts making his way back to the heart of the village. Chatan, Mila’s father, hasn’t warmed up to him any better than Šóta or the other men. Tahatan is the only one of them who treats Dean civilly, and overall, he seems to be a good leader.

Dean has that thought, just when he sees the older man himself walking with a woman Dean sort of recognizes. She wears a long necklace made of blue beads and seashells. Tahatan goes into her tipi, even though Dean knows…that woman isn’t the Chief’s wife.

Dean raises his brows, but he subtly pivots on his heel and takes a different route back to his own tipi. Whatever he just saw, it’s definitely not his business.

“Honey, I’m home,” he teases.

She welcomes him into her arms, her hands traveling warmly up his shoulders. He bends to kiss her, soft and slow at first. And then deeper, sucking on her lower lip and teasing her with a sensuous tongue. She hums in surprise into his mouth, making him smile.

He’s exhausted and feeling low, but he doesn’t want to let on to her. He just wants to forget about his day, and hopefully recharge with a better night.

“How did it go today?” she asks, after he allows her to breathe.

Dean nods (and lies). “Pretty good.”

She waits for him to continue. When he just continues to hold her, she raises her brows up at him.

“Dean?”

“What? I’m workin’ on archery. Lots of progress.”

She eyes him in suspicion, and he knows he doesn’t have her fooled. Actually, she looks like she’s going to press him about it, so he releases her from his hold and goes to change out of his dirty clothes to avoid her gaze.

“Hey, uh, maybe it’s none of my business, but I saw the Chief go into some other woman’s tent today. Holding hands, bedroom eyes, the whole deal,” he says while he changes. He glances back at her and waggles his brows. Mila smiles slightly.

“Did she wear her hair in a half-braid, or did she wear a necklace made of seashells?” she asks.

Dean’s surprised that she doesn’t seem surprised, but he thinks back to what he saw.

“Uh, seashells. Yeah, she wore seashells,” he says.

Mila nods. “Yes, that woman is also his…the chiefs of my people are known to take more than one wife.”

At that, Dean becomes even more surprised. He finishes dressing and leaves his boots by the tipi’s entrance. His raised brows even out into a smirk.

“Well, okay. Guess it’s good to be Chief,” he says.

Mila’s lips purse as she eyes him narrowly. She goes back to stirring the stew with a wide, wooden spoon. Dean doesn’t see her reaction, but he does notices that something’s missing from his side of the bedding. He frowns.

“Hey, where’s my gun?” He asks Mila, who shakes her head without looking at him.

“I moved it,” she curtly replies.

Dean’s frown deepens. He touches her arm to get her attention.

“I’d rather you didn’t do that, baby,” he says. He’s made sure that she knows the basics of a gun well enough, but he doesn’t want to take the chance of her hurting herself.

“Don’t leave it out, then,” she snips back. “It shouldn’t go where we sleep.”

Dean tilts his head at her. He’s a bit confused at her tone, especially because they’ve had this conversation before.

“I have it there just in case something happens at night,” he reminds her. His pistol is really just for emergencies though. There are only three bullets left in it, and he can’t exactly go shopping for more. 

Dean realizes then that Mila’s mood has shifted. He approaches her from behind.

“What’s wrong, huh?” His hands find familiar purchase along the curve of her waist. He swipes her braid away and presses a kiss where her neck meets her shoulder. More teasingly, he asks, “What’d I do now?”

Mila remains tight-lipped, until she glances at him over her shoulder.

“Do you want another woman?” she asks.

It’s a simple question, but it succeeds in completely tripping him up. He blinks at her, incredulous and bewildered.

“What?”

She continues shredding another herb to put into the stew. Somehow, it makes the broth smell a bit worse. 

“You seem to admire the Chief for having three wives, so you must want another one too,” she says.

Holy shit, three wives? Dean wonders. The man must be a saint. Look at the hell I’m catching with one.

He can’t help but laugh, a deep belly chuckle that does nothing to take away Mila’s ire. She glares at him now, genuinely upset, and Dean knows he’s starting to shit the bed on this one. He sobers up and raises his hands in surrender.

“Sweetheart,” he says, in a placating tone.

Despite her annoyance, she allows him to hold her again. He plies her with more tantalizing kisses along her neck. He breathes in the sweet-smelling oil she uses on her hair.

“You’re more than enough woman for me. You know that, right?” he whispers against her skin. It earns her slight shudder, and he smiles. He teases the spot just under her ear, grazing with his teeth, then soothing with his tongue. She can’t help but writhe against him a bit. It stirs a well of desire in his lower belly, especially when he squeezes her hips, pressing himself to her from behind.

She tries to remain strong as she clears her throat, no doubt feeling his growing hardness against her. She starts to blush hotly.

“It’s all I can do just to make sure you stay sweet for me,” Dean says, a hint of teasing returned to his voice.

Mila finally breaks into a laugh. She reaches back to swat him on the head, but his ministrations work. Once she manages to escape from his grasp with a teasing smile of her own, she more happily serves him a bowl of stew.

Dean smirks. Fine, he can be patient. He’ll just have to wait until dessert, then. After a moment to calm himself, he sits down on the ground beside her and brings a large spoonful of stew to his lips. There, he pauses. The strange taste that assaults his tongue nearly makes him choke, but he does his best to swallow it down. The meat’s tough as nails, for Christ’s sake…

Hearing a spoon clatter against the bowl, he chances glancing at Mila. She sits stock still, her brows furrowed as she frowns. Slowly, she sets the bowl down and says,

“Stop eating.”

She looks angry at herself. Dean feels bad for her, his sympathy striking at his chest.

“What do you mean? I’m hungry,” he says, and gamely takes another couple of bites.

She just watches him. Her upset worsens while he tries and fails to cover up a hacking cough.

Finally, Mila can stand no more. She takes the bowl from him, making some of the foul broth slosh over their hands and onto the ground. She tried to make wahonpi, one of the most basic soups in her people’s culture, made from bison, potatoes, corn, and carrots stewed in the broth.

Eyota told me it was simple! she thinks in dismay. How did it go so wrong?

“It’s no good,” she says, her voice hard. “I will go to my mother and see what she cooked. She may have extra for us.”

She rises to her feet, and Dean quickly follows her. He catches sight of her tears, even though she turns her face away from him to grab her shoes. He reaches out and stops her with a hand on her arm. He tugs her back to face him.

“Hey, it’s okay. Why’re you getting so upset?” he says. “I’m not picky. I’ll eat whatever you make.”

Or maybe next time, I’ll try doing the cooking, he thinks.

“Because!” she blurts. Tears well up in her eyes and begin to slip down her cheeks, no matter how much she tries to brush them away. “Because you shouldn’t have to eat it. Because it should be good. You deserve to eat something good!”

Mila finally realizes why her mother tried so hard to teach her these things. She’s embarrassed, feeling sorry for herself, but it’s also far worse than that. Her heart hurts knowing what Dean has gone through, and what he continues to go through for her sake. The least she could do is make sure he eats well, and it seems she can’t even do that.

“Mila,” he says with a sigh. He guides her into his embrace. “It’s okay, sweetheart.”

She can’t allow herself to be comforted. She pushes at his chest to look up at him.

“You think I don’t know what happens outside?” she says. “It’s a small village, and people talk when they think I’m not listening. I know what the men are doing to you.”

Dean shakes his head stubbornly. “It’s fine. I can handle it.”

“You should not have to,” she insists, resting a hand over his heart. “You have proven yourself to be a man of honor. Tahatan said it himself. They should not be this way.” 

Dean smiles ruefully. “I can handle it.” 

He bows his head and captures her lips, plying her with a deeper kiss. The heat of it grows and becomes more than a distraction, more than comfort. It strips everything else away, until it’s just the two of them again, like the night she found him at the riverbank and held him until he woke up in her arms.

What they eat doesn’t matter. Other people don’t matter. All that matters is this.

He squeezes her hips and presses her harder against him, so she can feel every part of his desire. She moans into his mouth, curling her fingers into his shirt. So he guides her down to the bedding, where he shows her what he’d rather get a taste of.

Later that evening, Mila and Dean have dinner with her parents. Her mother, Weaya, is a gracious host, treating Dean both like a guest and a proper son-in-law. She gives him a special cut of braised bison meat, not to mention extra corn and potato hash. Chatan says nothing to him and eats in gruff, stoic silence. 

Dean can tell it both hurts and annoys his wife, but he has to focus on answering Weaya’s many questions about his life—mainly about his family and the farm he grew up on. In some ways, raising crops and rearing up cows, chickens, and horses there isn’t so different from the Lakota village.  

“You must miss that place. Your home,” she says. Dean meets his mother-in-law’s eyes, pausing in polishing off the meat sauce on his plate with a piece of bread. Chatan looks up from his meal, and so does Mila, who hesitates too. He sees the thread of her concern there, behind her eyes, so Dean hides the stab of sadness that hits him every time he thinks of Lawrence. 

“Sometimes,” he admits. He looks over at Mila. “But I’m not alone. That’s what matters.”

She smiles at him softly. Dean has the urge to take her hand, maybe raise it up to his lips, but he’ll leave that for when they’re alone. He doesn’t want to upset her father any more than he has just by sitting in Chatan’s house. Tent…whatever.

He’s glad when, after almost another hour and a round of hot tea, Mila finishes chatting with her mother and stands. It means they can finally get the hell out of here. No disrespect to her parents, but with so much change happening so quickly, Dean had been able to put Lawrence out of his mind for a while. Tonight he thinks about his mom and his brother more than makes him comfortable on their way through the village. He follows Mila inside their tipi, then starts up a candle while she gets ready to rest for the evening. 

Living here is like going back in time—before the lantern, before indoor plumbing and the water heater. It’s not a huge hardship for Dean, who’s spent a lot of his life sleeping on hard, dusty ground, or military bases with less than most modern amenities, but it’s still another adjustment. 

He undresses down to his pants and settles down to the bedding and furs, waiting for his wife. She kneels beside him after undressing down to just her shift. He lays on his back with an arm tucked behind his head, and he watches her unbind her long, dark hair, undoing the braid from the bottom strands. She has this concentrated look on her face, like her mind is far away, even though she’s right here next to him. He threads his fingers through her loose hair while she works, giving her a smile.   

“You okay?” he asks. 

Mila pauses. She lets her tresses escape from her fingers and reaches for him, laying her hand on his chest. Dean holds it there and finally allows himself to press a kiss into her palm. 

I’m sorry, is what she wants to say, but she knows he’ll only reply, For what?

So she lowers down and slips into his warm embrace, as if this can make them both forget the day. She rests her cheek over his beating heart. 

“You will never be alone,” she promises. 

Dean quirks a smile. Instead of answering, he brushes her cheek tenderly with his hand, and he closes his eyes. A few deep breaths later, and he finds sleep.

The candle slowly flickers out.   

On most nights, Mila falls asleep before Dean, and so his light snores don’t bother her. Tonight, even though she’s tried, she can’t tune out his rumbles. Or maybe it’s her own mind she can’t tune out.

She carefully maneuvers out of his hold and slips on her shoes. Maybe the moon will give her clarity tonight. 

She pushes open the front flap of the tent and steps out into the cooler air. She looks up at the moon’s white-blue glow, a wide crescent peeking out from between two large clouds. A strong breeze tugs at her hair and flutters her lashes when she closes her eyes. She crosses her arms when goosebumps spread across her tan skin.

“What troubles you, Kimmímila?”

The voice is steady and male, and all too familiar. Still, the intrusion startles her. Her eyes fly open wide and she jolts, inhaling sharply. She frowns when she realizes it’s him. 

“What are you doing? It’s late,” she says.

He steps out from the shadows with his pipe in hand. He smells strongly of tobacco. Her father and uncle smoke as well, but she doesn’t like it herself. She’s glad Dean doesn’t either.  

“Easing my mind,” he says, raising his pipe. “I see you’re up to the same thing.”

Mila shakes her head. She returns her attention to the moon. “Go. You shouldn’t be here.”

“Are we not friends, Mila?” he says. “Can’t we talk and share like we used to?”

His voice is disheartened enough that it earns her gaze. She sighs at him. 

“I am sorry, but I can’t give you what you want,” she says. “Don’t test me anymore.”

He pauses with his pipe in hand. It drops to his side, and he takes measured steps closer, until he’s looking down at her. Even with the litheness of his form, he’s still taller and broader than her. His long, dark hair is half pulled onto the top of his head, threaded together with a beaded leather string she made for him when they were children. He has used it ever since. The rest of his hair lays loose down his back, brushing his arms. 

“If you actually loved him, it wouldn’t be a test,” he teases.  

He tries to touch her cheek, but she guides his hand down. She shakes her head and steps away from him. 

“This isn’t a game,” she says. “You know I mean what I say.”

His anger and frustration surfaces, with a sharp exhale of breath and the crunch of his dark brows.

“You would choose the Outlander over your own people,” he accuses.

Mila’s gaze is firm as she heads back to her tipi. If he will not be reasonable, then she will make it clear enough to hurt. 

“I choose him over you,” she says. 

Then, she slips back inside.     

The shadow outside remains, just long enough for the moon to become clear past the moving clouds. 

In the morning, Mila goes to her uncle, Chief Tahatan. She finds her parents there in his tipi as well, all of them sharing breakfast. Her aunt passes around more bread and wojapi, a sweet mixed berry sauce, while her father is resting a broken ankle. He’s complaining again, even though it happened over a week ago now. 

“If you hadn’t let the horse buck you off, you wouldn’t be hurting,” she says sharply now. She’s become annoyed with his griping. “Or better yet, you can finally admit that you’re beyond the years of breaking young stallions.” 

Chatan is the Horsemaster of their tribe, and has been since Mila was a little girl, inheriting the position from her great uncle, the former chief’s younger brother. Mila knows, however, that Chatan is getting too old to do the harder work. Many years have meant many battles too, and they’ve taken their toll on his bones. 

An idea grows in her mind, and she goes to sit beside her father. She applies the poultice Eyota gives Weaya for him, before rewrapping his ankle.

“Father,” she begins, imploring him gently, “perhaps Dean could help you care for the horses.”

Chatan eyes her with a frown. “Your husband already has his hands filled with training.” 

“Šóta and Takoda can’t do it all themselves, and Dean has experience with breaking young horses,” she reasons.  

Chatan ignores her and hefts himself to his feet without her or his wife’s help. He leaves with her mother on his heels, even though she looks back at her daughter apologetically. You know your father, her eyes say. 

Mila frowns at his back, both frustrated and upset. When they’re gone, she heaves a sigh. She remains determined though. 

She goes to Chief Tahatan next. He sits in his chair of whicker and wood while he smokes his pipe. Her aunt has gone to help the other women harvesting chokeberries and wild onions. Mila will go there soon, but first, she has business here.

“Uncle,” she says. 

He makes a sound of acknowledgement, crossed between a grunt and a groan. He knows what's coming. She kneels at his feet and touches his hand in a sign of humbleness, reverence, and familial love all at once. 

“Uncle,” she repeats. “Dean has done nothing but try to please Father, but still, he’s being stubborn…will you talk to him? Please?”

Tahatan sighs deeply. “You must understand your father, child. The decision you’ve made affects us all.”

“I do understand, Uncle. But the truth of it is, none of you have given Dean a chance to prove himself.”

“His chance is right now,” Tahatan says, his tone more stern. “Have I not been gracious? Did I not allow him to stay and live among us?”

“Yes, but you continue to judge him in your mind, like everyone else,” she says. The Chief remains quiet. She moves to stand before him, holding his gaze directly. “Let us perform the Huŋkápi.”

Huŋkápi. The Making of Relatives. Her people first created the tradition to make peace between Lakota and rival tribes, like the Ree. It can even be used to unite extended families within the tribe, especially in times of marriage. There is no better time for it, she thinks. 

The Chief shakes his head. “Kimmímila.”

“Is he not my husband?” she says. “In the eyes of our people, this is the joining of two families, and accepting an outsider into our tribe. That is exactly what the ceremony is for.”

“He has no family,” Tahatan snaps. “It is not exactly the tradition.”

“Then let us make it new,” she argues.

Tahatan hesitates. He shakes his head and rubs at his chin in a gesture of long-suffering. He thanks the spirits that he never had daughters. While he loves his niece, he has never envied his brother. 

“I will think on it,” he says. 

Mila frowns, but she tries her best to accept this, for now. She thanks him respectfully and leans in to kiss his cheek. Tahatan grunts an acknowledgement and watches her go with another shake of his head, despite a small smile. Between her and his sons, they will keep adding years to his life. 

On her way out of the Chief’s tipi, she runs into her cousin, Šóta. He walks with all the comfortable cockiness of a rooster among his harem.

“Good morning, sister,” he greets, even as he playfully pulls at her braid and tosses it into her face.

She flicks it away and meets him with an irritated frown. She’s in no mood to be teased, especially by him. “You’re still a child.”

“Ho-ho, hey now,” he chuckles, and he cuts off her path by standing in her way, crossing his arms. “Watch it. When I become Chief, don’t think I’ll let you talk to me so disrespectfully, my sister.”

“Just because you will be Chief one day does not make you wise,” she says. Her voice is as sharp as the snap of a blackberry vine. “And don’t call me sister. You have lost that right.”

Šóta finally becomes serious; he realizes that she means what she says.

“What are you talking about? What have I done?” he asks, more earnestly.

“It’s what you haven’t done,” Mila snaps. “If you were a good leader, you would take your father’s words to heart when he accepted my husband into our tribe. If you were my brother, you wouldn’t let the men mock him. If you were a man at all, you would do what is right. You would be guiding him right now, instead of letting the others ‘train’ him.”

She storms away from him, leaving Šóta feeling irritated, but also with an uncomfortable feeling beginning to churn in his gut. 

Mila moves brusquely through the camp until she reaches the clearing edged by the forest. There the horses are fenced in. They’ve been given their food and water for the morning, so they’re rather frisky as they clop around and graze.

She looks for Mato. Baby is no doubt with Dean today, so the Kiger mustang keeps to himself underneath a large sycamore tree. His tail flicks when she approaches, and he turns to her with a sound of greeting. She allows her hand to run along his dun-colored coat as she draws closer.

“I need you, my friend,” she whispers. 

She holds his snout, pressing her forehead against his as she squeezes her eyes shut against the burn of frustrated tears. Mato bumps her shoulder with his nose, softly whinnying. She smiles, sniffling, and rubs his cheek. 

“Let’s go for a ride.”

AN: Well, here we go! Sorry for ending on some angst, but here we've got the pieces in motion for a fun-filled, four-part sequel. 😂💜 Dean and Mila are both struggling in their own ways while he tries to navigate this new world he's trying to live in.

And how do you think he's gonna react to the "mystery man" trying to win her back? 😬

Pronunciation Guide:

Šóta ("sho-tah") Chatan ("chat-tan") Tahatan ("ta-hat-tann") Otaktay ("ogh-tac-tay") Weaya ("we-ayy-ya") Takoda ("ta-koda") Mato ("matt-toe") Misae ("mee-sah-eh")

Next Time:

But she feels a shadow at her feet as she ventures through the village. They are getting bigger as a tribe, harder to move when they need to, and it’s more mouths to feed, but it’s also a good thing. Despite all the challenges the past few decades have brought, their people are enduring. 

However, she pushes these thoughts to the back of her mind when she feels a prickling down the back of her neck. It’s followed shortly by the strong hand that closes on her wrist, and the man that calls her name. 

She gasps and whips around. He is there, gently shushing her. She glares at him and tries to pull her hand out of his grip. 

Read Part 2 now on Patreon! (Coming next Friday)

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Series Tag List (Part 1)

(Going back to the regular Dean tag list, plus those who said they'd like to be tagged on this series!)

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @mostlymarvelgirl

@thebiggerbear @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @deans-spinster-witch

@deans-baby-momma @sanscas @kaleldobrev @spnwoman @samanddeaninatrenchcoat

@globetrotter28 @adoringanakin @midnightmadwoman @chevroletdean @iprobablyshipit91

@chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @spnfamily-j2 @pieandmonsters

@deansbbyx @sarahgracej @chernayawidow @mimaria420 @stoneyggirl2

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waywardxwords @waynes-multiverse @twinkleinadiamondsky @mxltifxnd0m

@my-stories-vault @kayleighwinchester @rizlowwritessortof @samslvrgirl @tortureddarkstar

@tmb510 @syrma-sensei @artemys-ackles @malindacath @mrsjenniferwinchester

@jc-winchester @charmed-asylum @fromcaintodean @k-slla

[emotionalhottiee]

Broken

Jimmy Uso/Jonathan Fatu

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise stated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events in this fanfic are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner.

just a quick oneshot until i get over this writers block. Hope you enjoy.

Heart Broken…

Doesn’t even begin to explain how i feel. How could he do this to us?

Thoughts of frustration and brokenness ran rampant through my mind as hot tears poured down my face. After all i had been through with Jonathan how could he throw away everything we had. My mind ran back to walking into his condo, opening his bedroom door to be met with an image of some ig thot, bent over while the love of my life was behind her. My heart shattered had into a million pieces.

Now the tears I’ve been crying out, for the past 30 minutes have blurred my vision. Thinking about that day against my will. But seeing him tonight made the memory pop up. Even though i knew there was a slight chance he would be at our friends birthday party. Actual seeing him, just felt like another knife being jammed right into my heart.

“Kenzi, are you alright in there?” “You’ve been in this bathroom a long time” my friend Kiara screamed through the door.

I hadn’t even realized i had been in here that long, but i just couldn’t stop crying. Watching Jon strut up in this party with some new girl on his arm. As if the last year and a half meant so little to him, he could move on within days. LITERALLY 5 days ago i caught him in bed with another woman.

And now it’s saturday, and he bought a whole other woman with him. Damn, How many others were there? I thought to myself as i wiped the tears from my bloodshot red eyes. Trying to cover up the fact that i been in the bathroom of a mutal friend of ours,sobbing over this man. What did i ever do to make him be so cold & callous towards me?

I have to pull myself together! I tried to tell myself encouragingly, i am not going to let him see me, so vulnerable. For what? He doesn’t seem to care in the least bit. Too busy fake laughing at the girl with her ass hanging out of her shorts.

He’s knows her ass ain’t that funny.

As i finish up wiping my face, one last time. Before i could even get myself all the way out of the bathroom Kiara yanked my ass into a tight hug. She knew i needed this that’s why she my friend.

“Girl don’t let him make you sad. Fuck him, you deserve so much better.” She calmly stated to me rocking us back & forth. This is exactly what will make my ass start crying again. But i am so thankful for my friend, trying to keep me from being sad.

Against Kiara’s advice i decided to stay at this party. This was one of Jon & I’s mutal friend, I’m not gonna let him feel like he has won (Even though he totally has won).

I put on my bravest face to go back and chill, before our friends pull out a game of taboo. We had split up into two teams and of course i end up on a team with Jon & his whore of the week. It was almost as if God was punishing me for still wanting to be around him. But truth be told i was obsessed with him. I loved him more than the air i breathed.

And as much as i can possibly lie to myself, i know he loves me too.

*some time later*

The party winded down, Kiara & I were helping our friends clean up. Jon’s little girlfriend ended up leaving. I thought they would’ve rode together but i guess not. And I’m honestly kinda happy about that. He’s been staring at me all night. Now that he’s alone i know where this night will take us. Especially since i rode with Kiara.

Jon asked me if i needed a ride home, knowing damn well i don’t like driving at night. I tried to act like i had to go back with Kiara, she gave us a shrug letting us know she didn’t mind. She knew me too well. As much as she wanted me to stand up for myself, she knew where my heart was. And wanting to be there for me she wasn’t gonna fight me on it. I appreciated that. Giving her a hug goodnight she gave me eyes of pleading, but with a hint of be careful. I rubbed her arms up & down letting her know i’d be okay.

The ride back to Jon’s house was quiet at first nothing but low 90s R&B playing. But he eventually turned the music off. He grabbed my hand while holding the steering with his other and apologized for his actions within the last week. My eyes filled up to the brim before a tear rolled down my cheek. I couldn’t even respond. I just held onto his hand, he bought my hand up to his mouth still holding it kissing it ever so gently. This is the soft, caring Jon i feel in love with. For a quick second he looked at me our eyes staring into one another. Until he turned his eyes back to the road.

This is going to be a great night.

[robiin-draws]

Team BEST character analysis

I am so normal about Team BEST So normal in fact that I wrote a whole character analysis about them

Anyway! We all know that Team BEST fell apart partway through LL, and was never able to repair itself. Let's start at the person who I think was the route of this problem…

Bdubs:

In Last Life, Bdubs is reckless. He makes a reckless deal that gets him down to yellow and then dies. He manages to get a life back, but then he dies again. This time it's Tango who needs to give him a life, but then he kills Tango, which is pretty much the start of their downfall. And on that subject…

Tango:

I may be biased because I love my little fire guy so much but lets look at it. Tango was used. He was used to give a life to Scar to save their base and to stop Scar from killing his team, he was used to get Bdubs off red, he was used to get Bdubs cured from the Boogeyman curse, and he lost his yellow life saving his team from a TnT minecart. Some of these were his decision, some were peer pressure, and some weren't his fault at all. Tango only actually died in Last Life three times, despite having six lives, and one was to his teammate. He gave THREE away, and even called himself a 'life dispenser' (which I'm so normal about btw. It makes me so sad.) Now, the player that pressured him to give so many in the first place…

Etho:

I don't have many thoughts on Etho specifically, mostly just on his relationships with people in the team. However, he does pressure Tango to give away life after life for the good of the team. He also is the one to send Bdubs on the mission to kill another red instead of giving him a life (a little hypocritical, isn't it?) And now the leader of the team…

Skizz:

Skizz is trying to lead a team that's falling apart at the seams. He tries to calm Tango down after Bdubs' Boogey kill, he tries to unite the team, but fails. And at the end of everything, they don't give him a life when he goes red, even though they did for Bdubs. And yet he's positive through everything, and he really does try, but can't stop his team from falling apart in the end.

And that's just the characters on their own! I haven't even started on the duo dynamics! Oh gosh this is gonna be long- Let's start with Ethdubs, shall we?

Etho and Bdubs are close in LL. Etho has an INCREDIBLE Bdubs bias in everything, and yet isn't quite willing to sacrifice his own lives for his best friend. They were initially teamed before Skizz and Tango reached out, and I honestly can't decide if they were better or worse off for that fact. They had plans, and they were good plans! But in the end, Bdubs is red and Etho is green, and Etho can't bring himself to give Bdubs a life just yet. Instead, he tells Bdubs that if he can kill another red name, he'll give him that green life. And Bdubs does, and Bdubs is ready for the life, but before he can get it he dies. It's Etho's fault really, and I think he knows it.

And now the other side of BEST, Skizz and Tango. They were friends immediately, within the first ten minutes, even. They met up just after the lives were distributed. They had plans, they made the Rocktopus together, although it became abandoned later. They joked, they had fun, and they were honest with each other. They cared. It doesn't stop Skizz from taking Bdubs' side on the Boogey kill matter (although it was mostly just an attempt to stop Tango from killing Bdubs on the spot and leaving) and I think that is when things go south in their relationship. When Skizz goes red, there's physically no way they can be friends anymore. The whole conversation they have in the cave under the Rocktopus makes me insane. Tango asks Skizz why he's stealing the sugarcane, hurt that he would take it after they planted it together. Skizz replied with "Look at my eyes buddy! They're red! My hair's red and all I see is BLOOD!" Tango says "I'm done! I'm done with you." afterward. Then Skizz drops some iron on the floor (the item Tango needed) and says "For old time's sake" which Tango takes and replies with something along the lines of "Is that all our relationship is now? Old times?" And Skizz says "You've always got a spot in my heart." They make me go so insane I'm sorry. Skizz also singles out Tango on one of his visits to the Snow Fort to steal stuff and tells him "I do miss ya buddy". He doesn't say this to Etho or Bdubs, just Tango. They want each other BADDD but they're in a death game and one is seeing red. It just wouldn't be safe.

Now Tango and Bdubs, they guys you've been waiting for! It's getting later in the game and Tango is on his fifth life (his 6th was given to Cleo) when Scar attacks the Snow Fort and threatens to blow it up. Now keep in mind that this isn't even Tango's base, his is the Rocktopus, but he's pressured into giving away his fifth life to save not only the Snow Fort, but Bdubs is getting chased down by Scar, so he gives a life to save his teammate, and it won't be the last time. When Bdubs dies to Mumbo's boogey kill, he's again asked to give up a life, putting him on his third. At this point, he's calling himself a life dispenser (please it makes me so sad) Tango cares about Bdubs, but not enough to willingly give him lives (he was peer pressured) and Bdubs cares about Tango, but not enough to spare him from a boogey kill. And that boogey kill, ohhhh that boogey kill. Tango gets hit and immediately knows what's happening. He runs, but can't get away from Bdubs. When he wakes up, he is MAD. And I mean MAD. Tango rage sounds like heavy breathing and laughter through gritted teeth, and that is exactly what he sounded like. He's the first person to literally see red in a life series, despite not actually being red at the time. Bdubs insists that he had to, that he doesn't understand, and I think this quote sums up Tango's feelings about the situation "No I don't get it! I'm never Boogeyman, I'm just a life dispenser." When he says it his voice even breaks a little on 'I'm just a life dispenser.' which breaks ME- For the rest of the series, Tango is constantly making jabs at Bdubs for the incident and even tries to hire Scar to kill him. Aka Tango and Bdubs already didn't have a very good relationship and then Bdubs messed it up worse.

And now we have Tango and Etho, the last extremely important pairing. Once again, there's the life dispenser thing. The lives were often to save Bdubs, but it's Etho who pressured Tango into giving them. They make jabs at each other even before the Bdubs incident, and afterwards, it gets worse. Someone will come over on a yellow or even green name and Etho will jokingly tell Tango to give them a life (seems a little cruel if you ask me) even when Tango has less lives than he does. Aka he's just kinda mean (and I love him for it)

Conclusion of this essay: Bdubs and Etho are not good for each other and really mean to Tango. Skizz is trying to lead a broken team, and Tango is a life dispenser. They are not healthy for each other in the slightest but that's why they're so interesting!

[novannon]

Lonely.

I never ever felt this lonely before... Why in discord? That place was basically joy.

Sure i got it then all the sudden my life became hell, but i had friends there right?

...Not really many. we just talk then they leave. Sunny and Rei didn't really talk to me much either even though i spent my time with them.

The only ones i could really trust were Cara , Leaf, Akito Sophia and Azalea honestly....oh and my momma of course!!

When i was banned from that thing of a community , i felt empty.

..or so i thought.

On that time, i was working on what'd be happening with Kamizaka agency

After i was ungrounded, I luckily gave Cara Azalea, mom and Leaf my Tumblr, and i guess we could talk there. Also Sophia already had my Tumblr so I'll talk to her about wanting to kiss girls there ahahahdjwakcnm.. women

"I heard about Au roleplay blogs! It'd be cool to make one of that detective au of Project Sekai that ive been working on." I thought. And that was a good idea!

Tomiho was the first one i saw honestly, then we interacted.

It actually got people interested - I'm skipping the part with the flower princess an au because that thing was deleted.

I got in another friend disbanding so i thought about it then I made the Superhero Au.

"hehe, if i post this funny thing about An shapeshifting into Akito, I'll probably use this thing more." I did that,

"Can i make an akito account lol" ...That wasnt the exact message but, it made me surprised.

Someone was actually interested? I decided to let them.

...It grew.

And I made Hypnosis sekai out of a stupid idea...

Then Crimson came. I was excited to actually... Have people interested in my ideas.

Everything grew and came so quickly to the point of new year.

We all have may just known each other for months besides Azalea, Cara and Leaf but....

Im thankful.

The funny moments in the superhero au, the canaries in the hypnosekai au, the coffee stuff in Kamizaka...

They made me happy.

Was it cause it wasn't just some random friend break up? Drama? Vent? I didnt know how to feel.

..And this is where my message to you all comes.

Thank you, @rad-fire @starfrill (idk man i got braindead remembering ur user) @internetxstarz @crime-soncloud @ithappenedonroute66 @reazelf411 @the-depths-of-the-coral-sea @enanannnnn @mycutiemelody @phiaiso , I sadly cannot tag everyone here because they might not wanna get tagged but... This is also for the ones who weren't tagged.

Thank you for everything you've done for me... And I wanna give that all back to you! You all are amazing people. I thought i was never gonna feel at peace again. But i found out that many people in this community actually cared and wanted to see more of what I do, and I absolutely feel the same! I wanna do everything that is there with all of you. Please talk to me if you need anything and once again,

Thank you. :)

[thehoardofthegreatdragon]

You are the no.1 Shanks Understander™️ to me so I’m gonna ask your thoughts on this if you’re interested:

How do you see Shanks reacting to Mihawk getting ill or injured?? Especially since Mihawk responds so so badly when it’s the other way around, and would obviously detest what he perceives to be weakness in himself AND any hint that he might need to rely on another person

Tbh I think it’s another classic Mishanks case of unstoppable force vs. immoveable object, in this case shanks’ protectiveness over his loved ones vs. Mihawk’s complete alienation from the notion of being cared for. Also unlikely, since Mihawk is so insanely strong, but imo that makes it even more interesting and devastating :)

oh this is a fascinating ask-- i think the answer is going to vary wildly depending on the situation, and i can see it splitting into a few broad camps.

its a cold, or otherwise light illness that is very standard for people to get. I think in this case Shanks would play it off, and enjoy getting to take care of Mihawk. Mihawk would probably be fine with being taken care of to some extent for an illness of this kind-- it's not weakness, it's just annoying, and if that means Red brings him extra wine or lets Mihawk uses his shirts as tissues in dire times, that's mostly fine. (though Shanks shirts are in dire straights too and he will never live that down). I think somewhere in the back of his head Shanks would have a thread of irrational fear, but he's very used to pushing past things like that. He'd laugh and make Mihawk sleep more and be okay

its a serious terminal illness of some kind. This is the worst case, illness wise, and I think would raise major memories of Roger. I think Shanks would start to look for cures-- scour the world over, talk to every doctor he could, and focus on fixing what he could. If he couldn't, then I think Mihawk is the kind to accept it as the fate of how he dies, and Shanks is the kind to rally against that in increasingly desperate ways. DEPRESSING, in summary, and definitely the one where Shanks is openly most upset. Brittle, I think. I think his smiles would be brittle.

any injury at all, and/or an illness that knocks Mihawk out for a while but won't kill him. this one is most interesting to me, because I think it's where Shanks would have the wildest irrational responses that he has to control-- he'd want explanations, beyond what Mihawk could offer and is willing to offer. He'd go tight, wound up and tense. I think in this scenario he'd never leave Mihawk, and it's also the most likely to make them fight-- Mihawk would find the attention stifling, and the weakness unacceptable. He'd want to leave, and Shanks would be in a headspace where he just wouldn't allow it. Like physically picking up Mihawk and putting him back in bed, etc. I think he'd smile least in this case-- he'd be more openly angry or resolute, and less brittle.

[front-facing-pokemon]

[astrolotte]

Genuinely intrigued by the potential of Peri and Irep's dynamic but only in a platonic way so I end up not vibing with the fandom's portrayal of it 😔😔😔

(No but listen LISTEN they were kinda-almost-friends when we last saw them in FOP, yeah? Now they're enemies, with both actively fighting each other, and Irep going so far as to try and kill Peri's parents. What happened? When? What influenced it? Did they ever become friends, or did it nosedive the moment the cameras turned off? What about Sammy? How do Irep's parents factor into this? Could it ever be fixed? There's just so much we haven't seen, and romance just feels like too easy a solution to me. Let their friendship be easy to break, fragile. Let them have to work to keep the connection. Fairies and Anti-Fairies are literally made to be opposites, so what happens when two genuinely and truly become friends?)

((and yeah I guess a lot of this could factor into a romantic angle but ALAS the fandom seems to be leaning heavily into the funny toxic yaoi angle 😔 I don't mind it! By all means, please have your very harmless fun! But it ain't my jam :P Perhaps I'll have to write a oneshot myself...))

(((see tags for more rambles i guess. whoops a bitch spoke too much in there as he always does)))

[fearandhatred]

fandom: good omens

word: worship

I HAVE FINALLY DONE IT copied straight from my notes app babey!! this may seem like just a sad poem but it's really crowley spiraling into a toxic inferiority mindset within the 10 whole seconds that they kiss. i did not mean it to take that turn but next to all the emotions in my brain is this entity called Dark Thoughts that turns the whole console black with one touch. anyway thank u bestie for the word prompt sorry it took five years

<3

Worn delicate but strong on your smallest finger, a golden halo of a ring that dug through layers of cloth into my spine when i kissed you. it was the first time i felt the touch of your hardened hands on my body, pressing me to you like i could be consumed whole, like you could breathe me into your soul and nestle me in your lungs, like i could become your air. and for a moment, it felt like we were

One. like we were the paths of two comets destined to intersect once and then never again; or perhaps like the odd bullet that gets lodged inside another midair, and doesn't make it out the other side alive. and it felt as if i knew for the first time a purpose beyond existence, beyond love: to worship. to worship you.

Resuscitation has never felt so explosive, so stuffed full with fearsome grace with the same force by which it was ripped from me. and i know now that i will never be the same unless i have this one thing, this reason to live and also to die.

So i'll worship you, from now till the death of time. and when every one of your touches burns with holiness, when you scald my tongue with spit, i'll welcome you on my knees to set me aflame.

Have me in all the ways, split me open on the altar as evidence of my humility, make me repent. forgive me.

I understand now, i understand, it's in my blood to submit, in my nature to crawl on my belly and eat the dust left behind. and i will, and maybe i can do it right this time—i will drag myself behind you with my hands clawing the carpeted shadows of your footsteps, break the bottle open to anoint your head. i'll worship you, skin to skin, soul for soul, if it means you'll stay.

Please—

[themyscirah]

This is how this went right?

Parallax!Hal: I miss being a hero... wish I had my ring back

Kyle: oh well you can have mine then! That way you can have a second chance : )

Parallax!Hal: YES!!! A SECOND CHANCE TO PLAY GOD AND RESHAPE THE WORLD AS I WILL IT MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Kyle, now ringless: .................huh. im gonna be honest here I really didn't see that coming

[morningmask27]

Honestly I'm also not fully happy with what they did with Whis this book