#before i got to the middle i feared for ops life

[i-love-you-all]

For the valorant hc game could you do sova please?

Of course! Sova, my love <333

Also realizing how long these posts get so I've put the keep reading line in.

5 things they usually see:

A practice target (often those poor bots). His greatest fear is failure - a missed shot. It could determine the fate of his teammates or the world, so it cannot happen (again). As a result, he spends ungodly amounts of time training and working out. No mistake will be repeated on his watch.

Wildlife! It's already established that he enjoys photographing nature, so I imagine that he see trees, flowers and animals quite often.

Chess boards and pieces. He's a pretty avid chess players (same with Cypher so I imagine those two compete as often as Sova can stand the information broker).

Guns and other weapons. I HC him as being military/special ops then onto whatever the Brotherhood is. And before then I HC his family to be a military family so he's grown up seeing guns, learning how to use them... and using them himself.

Various shades of blue. I think it's a top 3 favourite colour of his (looking at the clothes he wears outside his armour). But I like to think that he got his walls painted blue at the protocol. And that he got some say in what he would wear out on his missions and whatnot. (because if we're being honest, if he does work up north in snow and stuff as shown in his card, he should be wearing arctic camo).

4 things they usually feel:

The cold. He grew up in a cold place and like his voiceline on icebox, he enjoys the cold as well. For the most part, he doesn't mind it, but when he's out for a long time, he does enjoy the warmth of a fire, or just a heated room.

The calluses on his hands and the weight of his bow. He's been trained since young with the bow and arrow, so his skin is not soft, and it's not perfect. However, it is who he is, so when he makes a fist or absentmindedly rubs his hands together, he feels them quite often. It's a permanent reminder of who he is.

His wet hair as he leaves the shower + all the cleaning and brushing he does for it. I think that he takes special care of his hair because it's like the one part of him that "stayed the same" throughout his life, or that it's the only thing that can't be scarred. He must have so many scars around his body (though I sometimes write him to have none bc he's that OP :p) and then he lost his eye, so the fact that his hair can still stay nice and soft must be something to treasure :))

The sore feeling you get after a workout. Whether he was injured on a mission or just after a hard day, he can feel that stiffness. Maybe there are days he wishes he was a radiant. Maybe then, all the physical strains he takes on wouldn't hurt as much. He knows the soreness will only get worse, no matter how great he is at keeping in shape. And that's when his admiration for Brimstone gets stronger because that man has been working through this for decades longer than he has.

3 things they usually hear:

His electro music. I'd like to think that maybe, the reason why he likes that genre more (from what you can hear on the playlist for him) is because the drums are softer/rounder. A loud hit on a snare might make him tense up a little too much because it can sound like a gunshot.

His breathing, and his efforts to control it. Snipers have to work to control how they breathe, so as he settles down into a sniper's position, he needs to be extra aware of his breath. Also, in worse times, he needs to calm himself down when he has a nightmare intense enough to make him jolt upright in the middle of the night. Thoughts of losing his eye again, or a mission that was failed because of his action - or lack of action, sometimes plague him, and he hates how he loses control for those few moments.

A cold wind/nature. I've already talked about him being out in the world and enjoying cold weather, but he likes to be closely attuned with all the possible and plausible sounds of nature. Not only is it a good way to calm himself down, but it's also great training. When he's alone out on a mission, he needs to know what are normal sounds and what could be an enemy trying to sneak up on him.

2 things they usually smell:

Nice, warm, tea in the morning. He would never admit it, and Cypher has no proof, but it is him that sometimes takes Cypher's teas. Especially when he doesn't have any of his own available at that moment.

Metal/nothing. Not metallic as in blood, but as in the general iron smell of a gun or his bow. It's clean and isn't really reflective of the scents in his everyday surroundings, which is what I mean by nothing. He can smell food, gas, or whiffs of perfume as he travels around cities. He can smell flowers, trees, and nature when he's outdoors. He can't smell anything in that armoury as he prepares to leave on a mission.

1 thing they usually taste:

Blood. I know it's kind of a cop out for any agent, but I think Sova more than most (maybe not deadlock or brimstone) just due to his history in this line of work. He has lived through war, assassinations, and straight fist and knife fights. He has hit others, and inadvertently tasted a bit of blood splatter, or he has been hard enough to taste some of his own blood in his mouth. I think he might be a medium steak kinda guy if he does go out because he doesn't want to be reminded of anything while enjoying a meal. Though, there are times where he's in that sort of mood and will order something medium rare and let himself taste just that little bit of blood.

[theweirdowithcoffee]

Modern Warfare (2007-2011 Era) AU Chapter 1 Rough Draft (Continuation of Prologue Rough Draft):

"In The East, Nothing New."

Day 4 - 16:58:49, 2016

PFC Michael Carver

1st Bn., 7th Marines Regiment

No Man's Wasteland, [REDACTED]

"Carver, sitrep, over." Lieutenant Phillps broke through the static comm in his usual dull tone accentuated by his higher than average volume when giving out commands. He needed to so as to ensure Private First Class James Ramirez and I could hear him over the interference. I got on the line and reported back what the pair of us had been reporting for the past hour.

"Not a thing, sir, over." The loud noise punctuating the activating and releasing the button on the radio punctuated my nothing report. It was as boring as it was true. The U.S. Army Rangers usually saw more action, especially this deep into enemy territory. As a marine myself, however, I learnt to fear the quiet more than any firefight. Silence is the last thing you want to hear in a hot combat zone. Probably why I felt somewhat tense around the mute Ranger paired with me these past couple recon assessments.

Ramirez and I were scouting out ahead in "No Man's Wasteland". I adjusted my seating, the extra gear was more than what I was used to carrying, and the masks were causing more issues than I'd like. Ramirez on the other hand was as stone faced as ever. It was like nothing could ever phase the guy. It made going out on ops easy with him, but a little unnerving. He never talked back, never questioned a direct order, and somehow had always been ontop of things. But he was an anomaly. Sometimes he'd quietly take the initiative without warning and eas hust as capable at turning overwhelming odds into our favour. If he at least said something once in a while it'd put me more at ease, but I can always respect a man of action.

The radio roared to life before the Lt's voice filled in the temporary white noise. "Roger that. Come back home you two, regroup with the rest of us and we'll move deeper into the Wasteland, how copy?"

"Solid copy." The reply was simple but to the point, just as Uncle Sam had drilled into all of us grunts. I tilt my head over to Ramirez, who was crouched against a wall with a massive burned hole where once a window must've stood between. "We're Oscar Mike, bud," I quietly call out.

Ramirez gave a slight pause before glancing out the broken window space once more. A bit of dirt and debris fell gently down the floor above us when he did. After a moment he turned back to face me, staring through the gasmask that was obfuscating his and my facial features and made a quiet hand gesture. He put up three fingers and tilted his hand downwards a couple times.

I held my breath. Three tangos that we hadn't noticed? Trepidation crept in as I wondered if they heard the radio call between the Lt. and I. A quick gesture returned back to my fellow Private from I for him to stay on my back as we quietly were to descend and rendezvous with the team. A brief nod acknowledged my order. I took point, stepping away from the corner I was observing the location from and crouch walking out the burnt down doorway we passed through about four hours ago.

This was a dangerous place for anyone to be in. It was the site of the nuke that went off five years ago during Al Ahsad's coup. A middle eastern military rising practically overnight for the world to watch in terror after executing their former President, Yasir Al-Fulani, on live television was enough to shake up the western governments into immediate action back in the day. It would be nothing compared to what came next. Unbeknownst to the U.S. at the time, they were being supported by the Ultranationalist party in Russia during its Civil War, and they supplied a nuclear weapon. When the Americans sent our boys and girls in to bring down Al Ahsad, we were working on bad intel. We knew nothing about the Ultranationalist, the bomb, and where exactly Ahsad even was. The perfect recipe for a tragedy.

We came in half cocked and confident to end this conflict in less than a week. What we got instead- was 30,000 dead and the No Man's Wasteland. The deceased can't hear our sympathies, our anguish for their loss. They can only make room for us when we find our way back to them at the end of all things.

We've been steadily infiltrating this site for a while. Ahsad in the end was a glorified red harring, a face in the middle east for the Ultranationalist to wear. Orders came from above, the General leading the forces out here five years ago. Having risen up quietly in the past couple years, we have reason to believe the Ultranationalist party has taken an interest in the area for some ungodly reason. Walking in the shadows of ghosts isn't something I want to make into a regular hobby, but I'm a marine, we typically chart out the path those shadows eventually pass through. Having to do a joint op with the Army Rangers had me racking my mind for a while, made things a bit uncomfortable. We fight for the same government, but our training often conflicts with our priorities when fate ties our hands together.

Ramirez is an anomaly in that regards. There's never any conflict with the man, probably why the Lt. sent me with him for the past couple days. I'd say I like him, but it's hard to say someone is disagreeable or not when they never pipe up. What he lacks in vocabulary, he doesn't in action. I think just as much when he in no wasted efforts shifted into position right on my six, an M4, standard issue; at the ready. Not what I'd come to expect from those army boys, even less from a Private. The only person with as much potential and talent in his division was another Private, Allen I believe his name was. Hadn't met the man myself, but apparently General Shepherd had his eye on the both of them for his "special" task force. As for me, I've been moved around enough as it was.

The Ranger and I made our way down, tight in formation. The harsh winds were starting to pick up. We were located not too far from the initial site of the blast, any closer and the radiation couldn't be ignored. In theory, no one else should be here. Unless you were looking to not to be found or had a death wish. Intuition told me our friends three flights below weren't here to keel over. The pair of us made it down the long decaying hall which sharply directed us right at a harsh ninety degree angle until the the floor began to sink into an empty hole. A staircase might have been standing there at one point, but only a skeleton of a frame remained. Ramirez had to boost me up the first time, getting down was gonna be louder than either of us would have liked. Combined with the weight we're carrying, it's a genuine risk we could fall straight through this floor and the next.

I turned to meet with Ramirez, but as usual he was already picking up what I was going to say, flashing up his hand to gesture "okay" with his fingers as I've grown accustomed too on our outings. I reached out my arm and we gripped it by the forearm firmly as I readied to let him down. Not exactly standard procedure, but it was quick and mitigated the sound we'd make on our descent and exfil. He stood crouched at the edge of the drop off facing I and myself him as I began to lower him. The strain on my right arm wasn't great, but once he was halfway, he detached his grip as I released my own and his boots hit the ground. Fortunately, it suppressed his movements good enough. Now it was turn to get down.

I gripped deep into the edge of the flooring and flipped myself over until I was hanging off the edge. The space between myself and the ground was enough for me and a half of me. Luckily, Ramirez would make up some of that space. He slid over his M4 and waited in a trust-fall like catching position. Without much other options, I released hold and let the Ranger and Gravity sort the rest out.

The impact was a little rough, I was certain my shoulders were going to be sore, but the sound we would have otherwise made and damage to ourselves we might have done was reduced considerably. If Lady Fate was kind, it would be enough to keep us concealed. Wasting no further time, we readied up into our formation once more and carefully resumed our trek out of this dilapidated place. On our way to the next stairway, something caught my attention. I gestured for the Private to hold his position as I too came to a stop. Movement. It was faint, but it was there. Not by sight, but sound. The winds had picked up even further. Cancerous airs inflicted by the hate of man onto this Earth were now masking our enemies- yet us as well. It holds no loyalty for its fathers. A quick motion of fingers and wrists informed Ramirez that we were resuming our withdrawal.

We hit the next staircase. More sounds echoed in tandem with the violent weather. Anxiety of a radiation storm flared up in my mind, no matter how unlikely, but I wouldn't let that show through the mask. I could make out what might have been chatter. Hard to say what they were speaking, but it was a safe bet to say I wouldn't be able to understand even under better circumstances.

Then came the clanking of metal. A tone of aggression, but not pointed at our approach. Not at first. Turning my attention back to my partner in the field, I signaled for him to hold the position at the top of the stairs; I was to scout ahead. He reciprocated the silent command with slight nod and taking cover against the wall that followed the steps back down. This needed to be quick.

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[kurt-wagner-official]

Post #119: Marvel Comics Presents issues 10-17 (Colossus and Longshot stories)

Normally, I don't read these anthology book because frankly it's just too much for me to handle, even the Christ Claremont ones, but I'm so starved for Ann Nocenti X-stuff that I'll make an exception for these two stories in Marvel Comics Presents. The first is called Colossus: God's Country, which was serialized over eight issues, and the second is a one-off Longshot story. These story is not on Marvel Unlimited, so I will be reading them on the high seas, don't tell anyone. I'm also just gonna read God's Country as one issue cause I'm lazy and it's short. Into the story! Peter is on vacation to America's heartland to find himself during the horrors of the Outback, and starts his quest to find America at a carnival. He makes some passive aggressive comments about a big news stand covered in porn, saying it's an abuse of free speech, and the guy starts shit talking the Soviets. This makes Peter angry, saying no one gets to judge his people, and he transforms and runs off. We cut to a family on a picnic; the son, Zackery, is playing soldier, fantasizing about killing crack dealers and squashing bugs that he pretends are enemy soldiers. His father is the adult, no longer harmless version of that, spouting Cold War propaganda for the whole family. His mother would rather avoid talking about all this unpleasant stuff. His maternal grandfather is a bit of a middle ground, trying to teach Zackery a more thoughtful approach to life and getting frustrated with his son in law. Peter, wandering around a field, thinks about how similar America and Russia are. The Soviets have very limited free speech and information, but the Americans have the news twisted and weaponized against them, so both countries are clueless and misinformed. Speaking of misinformation, Zack's grandfather is desperately trying to convince his son in law that global warming is real and Ronald Reagan is not helpful to this country, so Zack gets bored and wanders off. To him, the whole world is a game; he's a cool airforce pilot, flying around battling the ozone monsters. Until he runs into a group of men about to murder someone, who decide to kill him as a potential witness. While his family debates large scale politics, they're oblivious to what's happening nearby in these woods, as these men, who have superpowers, call their boss, an old man dressed in white named Alexander, who tells them to finish the job and kill the boy kindly. Peter runs into the family when they all hear Zack scream and rush over. Peter beats them up and gets the family out of there. The dad, Bruce, insists they go to the cops, but they seem to be in on it because they attack them and they must flee once again. They get back to their house, where Bruce starts babbling like a nut about defending his property, his wife, Roxanne, just wants to make everyone lunch, and the grandpa sits around offering advice. Peter begs them all to get away from here so he can handle the threat, but none of them will listen to a Russian. Bruce tells Peter that this country is great one because they have freedom, and Peter points out that he, a Vietnam Vet, lives with his family in a rundown farmhouse with no healthcare, whereas Peter's family at least had shelter and medicine. The people hunting them attack then, trapping grandpa in his car outside. Peter fights them off with the help of one of the team, who introduces herself as Number Six. She says they were a black ops CIA squad called the Cold Warriors hunting domestic terrorists that got so black ops they broke off from the government. She's fed up being part of this and wants to get the story out to the press, which is Alexander's greatest fear. Number Six says she'll stay here and keep the stalemate up between the Cold Warriors and the house if Peter will go take down Alexander.

Before he leaves, Bruce thanks him for protecting his family, and apologizes for how he's treated him. Peter goes off to Cold Warrior HQ and starts beating them up. He takes them down no trouble, and some of them start begging for him to kill them. Back at the house, one of the Warriors attacks and almost kills the Roxanne. Bruce starts getting paranoid again, gagging his wife when she starts having a mental breakdown and tying up Number Six, who he believes has betrayed them. The family's neighbors, who have been standing near the edge of the property being nosy, hear Roxanne scream and get cut off, but decide it's none of their business to report it. They'll stick around to hear the gossip though. Peter makes his way to Alexander, who gives him a monologue about how people don't want or deserve the truth. After he washes his hands, he agrees to go with Peter to be arrested. At the house, Bruce finally lets Number Six go when the Cold Warriors start attacking again. During the battle, the grandpa decides it's time to die, so he lays down and gives up. Peter stops the battle when he shows up with Alexander and makes him and his men turn themselves into the police, who have just arrived. Roxanne, who's spent the whole story denying everything that's happening, is the one to share the story with the press, and Bruce, who up till now has been single-mindedly defending his belief in America, lets his wife take the wheel and spill the beans. Number Six is finally free of Alexander and goes off to find her own way. Before he's taken away, Alexander tells Peter that none of this will see print and he'll be free soon. And that's how the story ends. I'll be honest, a lot of this flew over my head. Ann Nocenti has a masters degree in international relations and worked in journalism during the Cold War, and that shows in this story. I also just feel like her work is so hard to describe. The cadence of the dialogue, the word choices, the use of voiceover over art, it's so incredibly good. I will say, it was a bold choice to have a Soviet man on the X-Men and it's even bolder to have him defend the USSR in 1989. Although he doesn't do it as well as Nocenti does here, Claremont does seem very aware of that part of Peter. He doesn't mention Russia or communism by name much, but if you read into it that is very clearly the philosophy he's coming from. The X-Men are an inherently political concept, and although he's subtle about it, Peter's presence on the team and in their debates brings something pretty unique to the political table. He'll give up everything he has for the community of the X-Men, and he often treats them more like a collective and less like individuals, especially himself. I think this might be why he's struggled to be relevant in the franchise since his death and resurrection. In the eighties, he can be this foreign perspective on politics. In the nineties, around the fall of the USSR, he also loses faith in Xavier's dream and struggles to find a direction. It's mostly sub textual, but clearly part of that storyline is the loss of his homeland as he knew it. And then in the early 2000s, he finds a way to sacrifice himself for his entire people by curing the Legacy Virus. When he's brought back a few years later, Joss Whedon has no interest in the Soviet Union angle, and by the time another writer gets a hold of him, the USSR is no longer really relevant to the political discussions in the books. It's not like that's the only angle you can take with the character, because he's very interesting and has a lot of layers, but so much of the focus of the books in the years after Whedon was on the concepts and ethics of nations and global communities and politics, and the only thing he could add to those discussions is the USSR perspective, which at that point thanks to the way the timeline shifts towards the present fell when he was a little kid. So he's just a little more limited than some of his peers. Plus the whole thing with Whedon and Kitty, but I don't want to get into that. I think that's enough on this one.

Longshot: Dreamwalk is as far as I know the only time after the Longshot mini that Ann Nocenti has scripted the character. He's running around the outback racing a kangaroo when he almost trips over a man meditating. The man says he was dreamwalking, sleeping and astral projecting into his own mindscape. Longshot thinks it sounds neat, so that night he tries it. He falls asleep in the X-Men HQ and encounters a god of dreams, who looks like a hyena bird thing with nebulous, shifting form. They run around like children for a while, throwing things and wrecking the place, until the play fight gets a little too rough on the god's end and he knocks Longshot down the stairs. In real life, he's sleeping peacefully, but the whole place is really wrecked. And that's...the whole story. I have no idea what this means. I mean, it was cute. I love Longshot having silly weird adventures. If I have a takeaway from this, and from the Colossus story, it's to bring back Ann Nocenti. She did an X-Men Legends arc recently, but I want her on an ongoing book. I know people like Claremont and Peter David are tricky to bring back because their egos get in the way of working with the modern line, but Ann Nocenti in interviews has always struck me as very humble and clearly still very creative. She's written some cool creator owned stuff recently too! Put her on an Exiles or X-Statix book or something, give her Longshot, who nobody else wants to use, and let her go wild. I'd buy it. Not much else to say on that. Ann Nocenti is a genius.

[goo-stew-4-you]

Sugar Pill

My spell of wretched spirit in Europe was followed by a long, empty-hearted and tear-ladden week in my Worcester apartment, whihc was followed by the death of my grandfather, and a week being selfishly cared for by a mother mourning her father, I began medication once again. I had gotten off of medication less than a year prior. I had started it a year and a half before then. I cycled through four different prescriptions, seeking something that would make me feel the best I possibly could. Little did I realize at the time, what I didn't need was the nausea, anxiety, and fatigue that came with new medication, but simply an increased dose of one of them, any of them.

My longest affair was with Lexapro, a classic SSRI that both my mother and sibling have been on for longer than I've been of legal age. I loved Lexapro, it was like a tropical Eden in the middle of rocky water. Some of my best adult memories are when I was on Lexapro. Reading Trainspotting quietly, contently, in my sun-filled dorm room. A long weekend of laughing and honesty and genuineness with Brynne and Nina, back when Nina still talked to and loved Brynne. Before Nina lost her soulmate, as she would go on to tell me. That weekend we spent in Maine remains the Hallmark of my friendship with them. We still all had our quirks, sure, but it was before we could be annoyed by them, back when they were sweet and cute and interesting. I got my job at the Co-op while on Lexapro, the quaint, overpriced organic food store too far from my house with too small an hourly wage for it to make sense to work there, other than the fact that it brought me great joy. I lived for the days when I would work. I would drive the 20 minutes in my beater car (which was sent to the junkyard a week ago, I fear) to go talk with old hippies and homeless men and housewives and himbos. My boss was a tattooed-gaged-mohawk-rocking former skater from the area, whose voice matched nothing about his appearance. My coworkers were hip and young, all a different flavor of cool. My 4-hour shifts would consist of standing at the register in a cute but unseasonal outfit (the open-air coolers made the store 59 degrees in the middle of a heat wave), devouring books, and talking about recipes and organic food and local events and gossip with everyone. I felt comfortable being myself there, something that no job had given me before then. I still hold that it will be the best job that I've ever had. I also spent the summer with Lucian, for the second year. He played a smaller role in my life that summer, something I am now grateful for. A small part of me wishes that we had been more open, more vulnerable, to be able to share more of ourselves beyond our bodies. Delve into each other's minds. It's probably better that we didn't for the sake of comradery in the years forward. He's the reason I smoke cigarettes when I'm drunk.

Zoloft and Prozac, in that order, were nothing of note. I was dating James while taking these, and I've exhausted enough James stories for a lifetime. I'm sick of James. I realized that every time that I interact with him, without fail, I feel horrible about myself for at least a day and a half. For once in my life, I feel really good about myself. I am in Montana, I am doing important and sophisticated research, I feel beautiful, strong, talented, social. In the midst of this feeling, I decide it's a good idea to call him, and all those thoughts come crumbling down. I don't know what it is about him - he has a way of dismantling my confidence without even trying. I'd like to think he gets off on it - it's an ego boost for him to put down a smart, pretty, cool woman. During our entire 10-month relationship, he never made me feel as smart or pretty or cool as I am. That's maybe what upsets me most. His love was stronger than any antidepressant. I needed it to feel good about myself. It's sad to think about how much I hated myself, how strongly I needed his validation. How hard I tried to be like him so that he would validate me. Zoloft and Prozac with just background noise to all these feelings.

My stint of unmedicated living started on June 1st, 2023. In part inspired by the nagging of my friends and boyfriend in the back of my head, I figured, I'm happy enough, surely I'll be able to maintain this level of contentment. I, in fact, could not. On top of my unrealized social anxiety in an apartment with 6 people I did not know, my relationship took a turn for the worse. Being long distance made it hard for me to want to keep in touch, maybe a signal that I really only loved the affection that he gave me (and also his apparent coolness). This wasn't fair to him, I have admitted it to him. But he didn't make it easy on me. We would call and I would talk about my day and ask about his, only to get single-sentence responses, then silence. It felt like a waste of time! I told him this, that I would love for him to elaborate or ask me question, instead of me doing all the heavy lifting, and it only made him mad. We fought a lot, about stupid things, about big things. About things he didn't understand, like ambition or goals. A lot of it came to a head on July Fourth weekend. I don't remember a lot of specifics from this weekend, but I do remember being miserable. Anytime I teeter between decisions, anytime I'm flustered by someone talking to me when they don't know I don't want to be talked to, everytime I feel like my skin is too tight or the sun is too hot or the clouds are too cloudy, I realize it's because I didn't take my medication, and this is exactly how I felt that long weekend. He was honestly fine that weekend other than his complete ignoring behavior towards my friends. He drove 5 hours to see me in Potsdam. I was uncomfortable when he was in my bed, I was mad when he got out of my bed, I wanted him to be near me but also get as far away from me as possible. I cried on the streets of Burlington, VT, denying that I wanted to break up with him, that I was just unhappy. I had realized what was wrong with me - I was not happy. The rest of the summer, aside from my turbulent relationship, was sweet and satisfying. I cried a lot. But I also made a lot of friends, did goofy things, enjoyed time alone, did SO. MUCH. HIKING.

I realized when I returned home from my internship I should have a safety net. I was willing to give one more medication a chance. Wellbutrin had a reputation in my mind, somewhat planted by my therapist. It was the hot girl drug; the one that makes you lose weight without making you lose your sex drive. I had friends taking it, and I wanted to be with the in-crowd of antidepressants. My doctor prescribed it to me, no questions asked, and I started taking it. It was one of the worst experiences of my life. Never before in my life had I been so close to killing myself than when I was on Wellbutrin. I thought, "I'm a trooper, I'll stick it out, see if it gets better," but it all became too much. Around 2PM every day, I would feel absolutely horrible about myself, my future, everything. The day before classes started, I was debating going to a party or not. I wanted James to stay with me, but he couldn't understand. I told him that I was afraid I was going to hurt myself if I was alone that night. He said let's go to the party, you'll feel better. I did feel better, I think, after 5 tequila shots. The party was at the house of the girl that he lied about giving a tattoo to. Long story short, I stopped Wellbutrin soon after.

Without exhausting my time in Italy (what I remember of it), I decided to get back on medication. lexapro, 10mg prescription, 15mg dosage (prescribed by me). I feel really great. I'm doing the things I love, I can stay organized and focused, I don't hyperfixate on my flaws or my relationships in ways that just tore me down. I am content, and I can thank medication for that. I'm trying to accept that there's no shame in needing this form of chemical support, that it's genetic, that every woman in my family has severe depression and anxiety. Do I wish I could be this way without pills and potions? Of course. But until I can alter my brain chemistry naturally, I'm going to stick with the pharmaceutical approach.

[dmcheatsheet]

City of Song (street musicians)

a pallid elf, weak legs, who plays in this ally. she always plays the same half songs, because its all she remembers, but this doesn't entertain the maenads and half a song is no good for a challenge. Her buisness partner, is the deaf potter, who identifies with her panic when she forgets, because of his own struggles with confusion and surprise. He dosnt mind the repetition, not hearing it anyway. he is quick to say how he didnt 'adopt' her, shes his buisness partner and equal, and dosnt like the idea of 'whiteknights' 'adopting' a pallid elf and then leading them off on a dangerous adventure for a cure! or thr truth! a quest about their own glory and their fears of seeing weakness. A pallid elf in a city will live, work, play, love, and die in the city, which is the same life as every other city person. He mentions the noble who would come a tell her the same joke every day, because shed forget, hed toss her s gold piece after hearing her goofy laugh. went on for two weeks, i got suspitious cus she tends to remember people after a few meetings, turns out she was acting, for the money.

she can stagger for 30 seconds but it is exhausting. She broke her legs so many times when running away from the unfurmier and gruff and armed men she lived with in the moors. The emernians would often wake her up with their shouting or she would see them fighting and tearing into eachother while smiling. shed run from them and in a region full of fetted bogs and obscurred cliffs... One day they discovered her missing after hours, took more time again to find her, and by the time she was healed, they realised they just weren't the people she needed right then. So they brought her here. she has a great mind for learning, knows 4 languanges (elven, common-emerian, Celestial, sign) and has learned the instument perfectly, but just cant get the song right, cus she focuses on it. she could speak common to u, while signing for Friend, while she tells an aniqdote from the moors, but she wont remember if u prompt that story, or ask her a specific word, 'say something in 'elven' shell just blank. She dose mention that Caiber, an Emerian from her clan in the moors has visited before. she dosnt remember her time with them, or joining the clan, but she remembers most of his solo visists to her. He was the one ment to be with her that morning and who found her that evening. 'i thought after that whole month, she was getting better, she was doing really well i mean... there is no getting better.'

Caiber meets ye on his way to see his 'sister' and is so excited to hear PCs liked her. if a pallid elf, asks about other pallid elfs, then PCs themself, then what do YOU think of my sister?? So rare 4 u to find someone who shares sooo many experiance as u two do... (if girl 'theres so many ah... family planing magics nowadays...) Ever think of settling down? "And y the fuck would u not want to marry my sister."

From Ard Carmen, just arrived, has heard of the maenads, and will explain them. Loves magic and music, tired of the street-violence and spellslinger-crossfire from the sextuple-diection colour-coded wizard-gang-war in Ard Carmen. he played for stay on a merchant ship, with a little mending spell whenever they needed, and i did sell all my worldy possions, other than what im wearing right now... and the stuff that was eaten by my closet. O ya, the final push i needed to leave was when some stay spells blew a hole in my bedroom wall in the middle of the night, my closet came then to life and (when it was done chewing up my socks) it tried to eat Mowgali. I can overlook the destruction of my home and underwear, but i draw the line at putting my monkey in danger, had to leave that place.

hordes attention? maenads? eat them instead of can which he has learned about?

Rock'n Raccon. takes his ops out of the game. he speaks to animals to attck peoples instruments, poison lightly their food before a dual. he has loads of actual bard levels.

[pareiwheeler]

doing this 50 question challenge thing! i got it from @paladin-n-cleric

1. who is your favourite tv show otp? byler

2. what's your favourite colour? green

3. favourite quote? "you were the aching, too-young sun for such a cold and rotting thing, you were the cure and never the disease"

4. what's your zodiac sign? aries

5. what is your middle name? angelina (🤮)

6. when is your birthday? march 20, 2 days before wills!

7. what is your love language? words of affirmation

8. would you rather watch a rom-com or a drama? rom-com

9. three places you want to go to? hawaii, japan, italy

10. favourite perfume/scent? lavender

11. what’s the last song you listened to? the opposite - the smile

12. i'm giving you a plane ticket, where are you going? san francisco

13. chocolate or vanilla? chocolate

14. cake or donuts? cake, unless the donuts are apple cider. than donuts.

15. you can only wear one colour for the rest of your life, what colour is it? blue

16. favourite quote from a book? "to see the ocean once is to learn how to miss it." (the ask and the answer, by patrick ness)

17. you are in a fight, which tumblr account are you getting to help you? i would say @will80sbyers

18. cotton candy or ice cream? ice cream for sure

19. what's your dream career? actor or author

20. biggest pet peeves? loud chewing

21. describe your style/aesthetic. mix of like 90s and 00s vibes. i basically dress like a mom

22. what's your favourite thing about yourself? my hair

23. what's your favourite day of the week and why? friday or saturday

24. morning or night person? night definitely

25. tea or coffee? coffee

26. you can only read one book for the rest of your life. what book is it? harry potter and the deathly hallows

27. you're stuck in a lift with your favourite tumblr account who is it? hmm @kidovna

28. do you have any siblings? yes, two with one on the way

29. what's your biggest fear? drowning

30. what is your favourite word and why? two words but shish kebab. its just fun to say

31. you're in a bookstore and you can get any three books you want, what are they? the first ones i see, because im impatient and i like books too much to not read the random ones i pick anyway

32. what is your comfort movie/tv show? mrs. doubtfire or IT

33. if you had to describe your tumblr with only 5 words what would they be? crazed aggression oh and byler

34. what celebrity/person in your life do you look up to the most? probably noah schnapp he is really awesome

35. what's the worst tv show/movie you have watched? oof probably sharkboy and lavagirl

36. what is your favourite/lucky number? 4

37. favourite flower? poppy

38. what is favourite gemstone? amber

39. you can dye your hair any colour and it would look good regardless, what colour are you dying it? red

40. you can go back or forward in time, how far back/foward are you going? 40 backwards, just for funsies

41. it's your last meal, what are you eating? zaxbys im so for real

42. favourite flavour of ice cream? strawberry

43. you can have dinner with one person dead or alive, who would it be? id be too nervous to meet a famous person

44. you can only use one product for the rest of your life, what product is it? soap. i haye being dirty

45. favourite time of the day? sunset. or lunch i like food

46. do you get complimented often? (if not here you go: you're an amazing person ♡) thats so sweet op ty and also yes sometimes

47. what languages do you know/want to learn? im learning spanish, i want to learn ASL

48. what's your favourite fruit? raspberries

49. the characters from the last tv show/movie you watched are planning your wedding, who's planning it? oh god mrs. doubtfire

50. nothing. i just wanted to say that ily. ily too!!

[goingmorry]

hi!! i recently got into one piece and im so glad i found your blog!! i was wondering if you could do ace, sanji, and zoro when their crew notices scratch marks on their back? suggestive/nsfw would be <33 thank you in advance!

[One Piece Headcanons] OP Boys -> when their crew notices scratch marks on their backs

Characters: Ace, Sanji, Zoro

Tags: NSFW, gender neutral, sexually suggestive

Author's Note: Hello, dear! 💖 Thank you for the kind words, and welcome to the fandom. I hope you enjoy your stay. You're in it for life now. Mwahahaha! 😂

PORTGAS D. ACE

This man struts around EVERYWHERE shirtless. Did you really think that he was going to start wearing one now? If so, joke's on you, my friend.

Ace thinks that if he were to suddenly wear a shirt, out of the blue, that it would be hella suspicious. Marco and Thatch would jump on the opportunity to interrogate him, and then they would eventually find out the "real" reason why he's suddenly dressed decently.

So instead, he opts for the "let's pretend everything's normal" approach. Never mind the fact that the angry red lines, littered across his shoulder blades and overlapping the tattoo of his Jolly Roger, stand out and compliment his tanned skin well.

The scratch marks you've left on his back from the other night are proudly displayed for ALL to see. Marco and Thatch, who will most likely tease him and you endlessly. Vista and Izo, who will most likely reprimand him for his bold behavior. Even Pops himself, who will most likely let out a booming laughter, alerting even the less nosy members of the crew. Can you get any more embarrassed?

Ace brushes off everyone's teasing as best he can. Everyone in the crew (except for Thatch) is respectful and won't pry as much. Your relationship with the Second Division Commander is a private affair, after all.

Thatch, on the other hand, hoo-boy. He's the resident pervert of the crew. You know he's DYING to ask Ace for the deets. Give him something! Anything to satisfy his curiosity! 👀

Have no fear. Ace doesn't fuck and tell. The vision of you, drowning in pleasure as he fucks you senseless, so much so that you end up aggressively leaving temporary scars on his otherwise smooth skin, is permanently etched into his memory.

Ace vows to himself that this isn't the first and last time that you'll be doing this to him. And he makes do on that promise. 😏

SANJI

Among the Straw Hat Pirates, this man dresses the classiest. A fresh suit and tie is his preferred attire, so the chances of catching him shirtless is almost slim to none. Except for when he's in the middle of getting dressed or undressed.

Sanji's usually careful, but in this one instance, he's distracted and ends up crossing paths with Brook in the men's locker room. Before Sanji can pull down his shirt the rest of the way, the perverted skeleton's (non-existent) eyes zone-in on the red marks scattered all over his pale skin and his bony cheeks darken with a noticeable blush.

"M-may I please see it again, Sanji-san?" Brook asks, without shame, earning him a swift kick to the skull from the love cook. Unfazed as ever, Brook recovers and disappears with a loud YOHOHOHOHO~ making the rest of the crew wonder what transpired in the men's locker room that fateful day.

When it comes to the marks on his back, he opts for the "let's keep this on the down-low" approach. This doesn't extend to your relationship with him, of course. It's impossible for Sanji NOT to proclaim his undying love and devotion to you.

The sight of you rutting against him for release, face contorted in bliss from his sporadic thrusting, and your nails digging deeper into the flesh of his back, strong enough to break skin, crosses his mind and Sanji has to make a conscious effort not to dwell on it too much, else he finds himself under Chopper's care again.

When it comes to your intimate activities, Sanji's a true and proper gentleman. And a gentleman never kiss and tells. 😉

RORONOA ZORO

This green-haired swordsman's normal attire is a long coat. While he prefers to keep his coat open, exposing his bare chest, people won't have a clear view of his back. Not to worry though, since Zoro loves to go shirtless when he exercises, and he exercises plenty.

Up in the Crow's Nest, Zoro busies himself with weights until Chopper enters the room to check on him. Without meaning to, Chopper's cute beady eyes land on the red marks crisscrossing across his big brother's back and the little reindeer exclaims before he can stop himself, "Zoro! You're injured! Let me treat your wounds later!"

Kill him now, Zoro thinks. Instead, he says dismissively, "Ah... It's nothing," defusing the situation as best he can so as to preserve his little brother's innocence.

After much convincing on Zoro's part, cute innocent Chopper leaves him alone, none the wiser. And your boyfriend can breathe a sigh of relief. Who knew that leaving scratch marks on his back from your intense lovemaking would be so troublesome?

When it comes to the marks on his back, Zoro opts for the "let's not make a big deal out of it" approach. Though, it's not like he can predict how others would react. Someone like say, Sanji, for example.

If Sanji ever discovers those marks on Zoro's back, you bet your ass that he's not letting go of that shit. The love cook absolutely will go through the seven stages of grief, and your boyfriend is just not in the mood to entertain Sanji's ridiculous tantrums. Not now, not ever.

Flashes of your previous night with him cross his mind. You writhing against his firm grasp, you panting from his hips wildly snapping against yours, and you lightly biting his shoulder from the forceful way he takes you. Zoro can never get enough of seeing your expressions as you cum for him. And the scratch marks on his back are just an added bonus.

Zoro may have a competitive sibling rivalry with Sanji, but if there's one thing he's certain about, it's that he's won in the romance department. Zoro has you to thank for that. 💖

[samplingmoonsters]

Hear me out— Dream, a average normal guy, suddenly got transported into his favorite novel "The Making of DSMP", as the main Villain— bUT, Instead of doing the whole evil thing he just kinda stays in the sidelines hoping that the plot can continue without him, unbeknownst to him, he sorta low-key kind of made Prince Technoblade of the Antarctic Empire, Who's suppose to be his sworn lifetime enemy throughout the whole book— falls for him instead. Cue funny plot speed run >:D — || Owline Hoot ||

That would be such a good idea 😭 everyone would just be so confused why the villain suddenly stopped doing bad things! And the plot reminds me so much of isekai animes :o does this mean Dream would be OP in the world he got sucked into like the average Isekai protagonist? Would make it even more funny since Dream would have all that power but he doesn't do anything with it!!

I guess Technoblade would fall in love with him during a duel, seeing how powerful Dream is and what a sweet nature he has would make him instantly simp for blonde. He's a simple man, you see, one good duel and a cute guy smiling at him and he's done for lol

Also, what if Dream was like a engineer or something in the real world, and now that he's trapped in a magic world that's basically plays around in the middle ages or something, Dream could do so much good with his modern knowledge!!! Just imagine him fusing technology with magic and creating fantastic things.

Maybe at this point we can add some drama, like people thinking that the new guy that came out of the feared forest unharmed, and who wears strange clothes, is a witch. Now Dream is hunted by the church and prince Techno has to safe him before he gets burned on a cross in the middle of the market. Maybe after that, Techno makes Dream his court inventor.

And so they fall in love and do cute stuff and have sex lmao.

About the end...

We can either make it fluffy or angsty.

Angst option: Dream finally finds a way to go back to his own world. He can't stay here forever. On earth there are people waiting for him, friends, family etc. So he says Goodbye to Techno and goes away.

Fluff option: Dream didn't have a happy life on earth. He was depressed, poor, no friends, and no contact with his family. Getting sucked into a alternative dimensions was a blessing. He met a lot of amazing people, and even fell in love with a prince. When he finds a way to return to his own world, he doesn't take it. He stays with Techno and his friends inside the story book forever :) (this ending would certainly suit the isekai vibes I was going for more. Most protagonists from those animes didn't have a good life in the real world and it was a blessing for them to escape to another dimension)

[ragingbookdragon]

Don't Bleed Me Then Push Me Away

Kyle Rayner x Batbrother One-Shot

Word Count: 2K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst

Author's Note: Based off this ask about Batbro being a Lantern! Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

He burst through the door leading out to the roof, one arm wrapped around the man’s back, the other slamming the door shut. Huffing, he set him against one of the overhead vents before hurrying back to the door, yanking something from his belt. He shoved it against the door frame, just at face height and clicked a button, watching a red-light flicker on.

Sprinting back over, he knelt in front of the man who was moaning lowly, pawing at his side; he grabbed the hand. “Kyle, babe, don’t.”

“It hurts,” he moaned, dropping his head; he tugged the jacket away from his side, eyes widening at the crimson blooming larger and larger. “Oh God, I’m gonna bleed out.” He looked up, meeting his eyes. “(Y/N), I’m bleeding out.”

(Y/N) shook his head. “You’re gonna be okay.” Pressing a finger to his ear, he shoved the other against Kyle’s side. “Black Ops to Batman, come in.”

I read you, Black Ops. What’s your status?

“Not good. Green Lantern’s down and I’m not looking too hot either.” A blast sounded from below, on one of the floors beneath them. “We’ve got incoming enemies from the lower floors.” (Y/N) craned his neck, peeking over the side of the building before ducking again. “Tanks are in the courtyard.”

I’m sending the Batplane to your position.

“Negative Batman, anti-aircraft missiles were spotted earlier.” He breathed heavily, mind working in overdrive as he tried to think of a plan, but nothing was coming to him. Kyle’s blood was warm underneath his fingers and with how wounded the Lantern was, not even his ring could heal his injury.

—ack Ops. Black Ops. (Y/N)!

He shook himself from his stupor. “I’m here.”

I’m sending the Batplane.

“You can’t!” he yelled. “It’ll get shot down!”

I’m willing to take that chance if I get you and Kyle out.

“Dad I—” another blast sounded, this time from the rooftop door and he spun, listening to the screams of the men who’d taken a C4 charge straight to the face. (Y/N) yanked out his side arm, dropping the few who managed to survive and come out. He pulled the trigger one more time but all it did was click. Empty. He started hyperventilating, unable to decide if Kyle needed his attention more or if he should worry about getting them to safety.

But where could he take them? They were on the rooftop surrounded by tanks and soldiers. There was nowhere to run. They were at the end of the line.

(Y/N) looked back at Kyle. Sweat dripped down his face, his black hair clinging to his forehead; he looked clammy and ready to pass out. He glanced down at their hands pressed together, Kyle’s atop (Y/N)’s, and his eyes widened. The power ring.

He grabbed Kyle’s hand. “Kyle, gimme your ring.”

“What?” the Lantern moaned weakly. “My ring?”

(Y/N) nodded, slipping it off; he put his hand to his mouth, yanking the strap with his teeth before biting the tip of the middle finger, tugging it off. He slipped the ring on his finger and waited. He swallowed thickly, muttering, “Come on. Come on. Come on.”

“(Y/N),” Kyle whispered, and he looked at his lover. “It’s not working.”

“It has to,” he retorted, tears stinging the corner of his eyes. “I don’t wanna die here.” He leaned forward, one hand coming up to clasp the side of Kyle’s neck, his thumb brushing his cheek as he pressed his forehead to the man’s. “I don’t want us to die here.”

Kyle swallowed, a ghost of a grin on his lips. “I love you, (Y/N).”

He shook his head. “No. Don’t say that now.”

“I don’t know if we’ll get another chance,” he countered, nosing the soldier. “If we die here, then I want you to know that I love you.”

(Y/N)’s jaw tightened. “We’re not dying. Not now. Not today.” A wave of power surged through him, crashing against his soul like a tidal wave. “I refuse to give in. I won’t.” he shut his eyes, focusing on the feeling of Kyle’s skin against his own. “I’ll get us to the other side.”

A flash of green light burst across the sky, followed by an other worldly voice. (Y/N) Wayne of Earth. You have the ability to protect the ones you care for without fear. Welcome to The Green Lantern Corps.

He opened his eyes, the suit of green flooding his vision; a breathless laugh passed his lips and he gazed at Kyle. “I told you.”

Kyle snorted pitifully. “Yeah, yeah.”

(Y/N) grinned. “How do I work this thing?”

“Anything you can think of. If you can will it, it’ll come to life.”

He stood, looking down at the soldiers in the distance. “Any qualms against killing?”

Kyle shook his head. “Rules have been rewritten. Lethal force against enemies of the Green Lanterns has been authorized.” He gasped, leaning down to the ground and (Y/N) held out his arms.

“You need medical attention.”

“I’ll be fine,” he wheezed, shaking his head. “Go.”

(Y/N) knelt. “I’m not taking any chances.” He looked around. “I know who to call.”

“Who?”

He leaned forward, pulling Kyle into his arms. “Try not to move.” (Y/N) stood to his feet, eyes directed to the sky as he shouted, “Supergirl!”

A rush of wind gusted over them, almost knocking him off his feet and he looked over, seeing her red cape billowing above them. “(Y/N)?” she questioned. “You’re a Green Lantern?”

“For the moment,” he answered, holding Kyle up. “I need you to get Kyle to the Batcave back in Gotham City. Now.”

She glanced at the wounded man. “Oh my God, what happened?”

“Mission gone bad,” (Y/N) said. “Kara, please. Hurry.”

Kara nodded, lowering down to take Kyle from (Y/N); he grasped at (Y/N)’s shoulders. “I’m not leaving you.”

He shook his head. “You need to get to a hospital, or you’ll die.” He smiled. “I can take care of this.” (Y/N) met Kara’s gaze. “Go.”

She took off, ignoring how Kyle screamed at her to take him back.

(Y/N) flew to the ledge, standing atop it, and a gun went off; he raised a hand, imagining an aegis and sparks flew when the bullet ricochet off the bright green shield. He felt a renewed sense of strength and took a single step off the ledge, raising his hands high above his head; and the soldiers along the ground all gaped in terror as thousands of glowing arrows appeared in the sky, all the sudden coming down in a fury of green hellfire.

***

Kyle came to with wide eyes, sitting straight up on the med bay bed, though it proved to be a terrible decision as pain swelled through his side and ebbed outwards every which way. He gripped his abdomen, hissing with displeasure.

“Hey, take it easy,” someone commanded, pressing a hand to his shoulder and he cocked his head up, Jason coming into focus beside him.

“(Y/N),” he blurted out. “Where’s (Y/N)?”

Jason shook his head. “He hasn’t come back yet.” Kyle’s face dropped and Jason was quick to reassure, “But he didn’t send the code-word, so we know he isn’t dead yet.”

“What?”

“We’ve got a code-word we’re only allowed to use if we know for certain we’re not going to make it.” Jason leveled Kyle with a firm stare. “(Y/N)’s still out there somewhere.”

Kyle shoved his arm off. “Then I need to be up helping.”

“With what? He’s got your ring.” Jason put his hand back on the other’s shoulder and this time pushed him back on the bed. “You just lay right here and recover. We’ll do everything.”

“I can’t just lie here, Jay,” he retorted, though he made no move to get up. “I need to help you.”

“(Y/N) would want you to rest,” Jason shot back, and Kyle scowled.

“Screw you for using him against me.”

He snickered. “I’m just saying what you know you should be doing.” Jason reached over, pressing a button, and Kyle felt the world slow down, his vision growing dark as sleep washed over him. “There you go. Let the morphine lull you back to sleep.”

“Gonna…kick your…ass,” Kyle slurred before his head dropped down, eyes slipping shut as his consciousness faded, Jason’s amused hum echoing in his ears.

***

Kyle liked to be touched. He found physical measures of affection just as important as verbal ones. And (Y/N) liked to touch. A hand on a thigh, a kiss on a temple, a finger looped through a belt-loop, a toe brushing an ankle, digits carding through hair; he was content to simply be in contact. His favorite way was to touch was when he and Kyle were laying in bed, the latter’s back pressed to (Y/N)’s chest, one of the soldier’s arms wrapped around the Lantern’s waist, the other arm under Kyle’s head, folded back so he could brush through his lover’s hair.

It was uniquely intimate and sweet at the same time, and (Y/N) would simply lie there, breathing in the scent of Kyle’s minty shampoo, brushing the dark strands until they felt like silk beneath his fingers. And Kyle would hum contently like a cat, grunting if (Y/N) stopped. On the rare cases that he did, the Lantern would pout like a child and turn over in (Y/N)’s arms, burying his face in the soldier’s throat, nose brushing his lover’s Adam’s apple, breath warm against his skin. (Y/N) would chuckle, the vibrations rumbling through Kyle as the soldier’s arms twisted, cocooning the Lantern to his chest, legs tangling like ribbon.

It’s the feeling that Kyle had at the very moment, and he blinked blearily, inhaling deeply as he forced his mind to rise above the sleep clouding his brain. The comforting scent of cedarwood and gun metal wafted up his nose, a hint of tobacco hidden within. Warmth spread across his body, hot air puffing against his temple, as he finally felt the pressure over the left side of his body.

He opened his eyes, seeing a familiar set of dog tags and he tried to jerk up when someone’s hand rested on his chest, a comforting deep voice murmuring, “Easy, babe.”

Tears stung Kyle’s eyes and he fumbled for the hand over his heart, clenching the fingers through his own as he whispered, “Fuck you.”

“Hmm,” (Y/N) chuckled lowly. “Wasn’t expecting that.”

“You sent me away,” he hissed, barely restraining the tears. “I thought you were going to die.”

“Not yet.” He retorted, kissing Kyle’s temple. “Go back to sleep.”

“No. I’m mad.”

“Mmm, no, you’re actually relived I’m back alive and spooning you on a crappy med bay bed.”

“Don’t try to change my mind,” Kyle shot back, trying to wiggle, but (Y/N) had him in a tight grip. “I want to yell at you.”

(Y/N) sighed and pulled away, gazing at the Lantern; Kyle opened his mouth to start berating him and he merely leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his lover’s lips. Kyle’s eyes went wide as he made a noise of complaint, but it quickly faded as heat flooded his system.

They pulled away and (Y/N) patted his cheek. “You can yell at me in the morning. Go to sleep.”

Kyle glared at him, though he let his head fall to (Y/N)’s shoulder. “I’m going to kick you in the crotch.”

“Yep.”

“And yell at you for leaving me.”

“Uh huh.”

“Mock me at your own peril, Wayne. I’ll fight you.”

“Ooo, I’m so scared of the green space ranger with fancy boots.”

“You are a major douche.”

(Y/N) nuzzled his head. “I know. You love me though.”

Kyle swallowed the lump in his throat, and he turned, burying his face in (Y/N)’s throat as he whispered, “Don’t ever send me away from you like that ever again.”

He smiled, carding his hand through the Lantern’s hair. “Never again.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise.” (Y/N) kissed Kyle’s head. “Go to sleep. I’m not going anywhere.”

[citowon]

spring troupe and gender neutral s/o watch horror movies

about time i finally write for this blog... i was hit with the image of masumi watching a horror movie with his s/o, thought how lovely it would be if there was content of that, then realized i have that power now

word count: 1,935

tags: established relationship, non-detailed mentions of horror themes (gore, monsters, etc)

sakuya sakuma

🌸 when the topic of a horror movie date first comes up, he’s a bit scared. he’s only seen a couple, one of which was for mankai play research.

🌸 when it’s actually showing, though, he’s pretty calm! the anticipation was the worst part, and he somehow doesn’t get scared even during the most terrifying movie of the year. he’s great at reminding himself it’s just fictional in the end

🌸 vampires? not scary. aliens? he thinks they’re cute! gore? well, yeah, it’s unnerving at first but it’s all fake, and once he reminds himself of that he’s fine

🌸 he gets scared at the littlest things though. there might be a continuity error where a knife is in its holder on the counter in one shot and then removed the next, and no one in the movie acknowledges it nor is it supposed to mean anything but he can and will psych himself out thinking about just what moved it

🌸 king of predicting plot twists! he might be very good at spotting continuity errors, but he’s even better at picking out little bits of foreshadowing and putting together the mystery

🌸 gets spooked the most by jumpscares. every time he squeaks a bit (on really bad ones he might scream) and every time he always does the same embarrassed sigh afterwards and goes to squeeze your hand to calm himself

🌸 psychological horror is definitely the best pick for sakuya. he thinks a lot about what’ll happen next in the movie and loves to discuss about movies with you regardless of the genre, so with thought-provoking psychological films it fits him like a glove

🌸 and hey, if things ever get too intense he loves b-list horror movies! he thinks the bad acting is endearing and always finds something to compliment even with the trashiest, corniest flick

🌸 if you ever get uncomfortable, he might commentate in the movie and try to poke fun at it- i mean, the killer clown is kind of funny! look how bright and colorful it is compared to the rest of the set! he keeps his voice light and sunny so you have something comforting to concentrate on

masumi usui

🎧 he loves the idea of horror night. cuddling with you, holding you protectively as the suspense rises, stealing kisses to distract you from the monster and erase your fear...

🎧 he’s only seen a few horror movies in his life, less than the fingers he has on one hand, but whatever. it’s a movie. it’s not real. if he got too immersed he could just tell himself it’s fake and be done with it.

🎧 spoiler alert: he didn’t.

🎧 masumi did not, and i repeat, did NOT expect to get so invested??? even if you’re scared, he’s definitely the most terrified

🎧 that’s not to say he’ll show it. he’s doing everything to keep a neutral face, and you’ll probably assume he’s holding to you tighter during the scary parts like he’s protecting you.

🎧 (it’s actually because you’re the one [1] thing grounding him. you’re protecting him, not the other way around! in hindsight, he likes being cared for even when he thought he’d be the one spoiling you, not the other way around. he just wishes it didn’t have to be during such a scary movie, that’s all)

🎧 will take his fear to the grave... unless you ask him directly about it. please hold him and tell him the monsters aren’t real, even though he’s a heavy sleeper he will stay up until 3 am, his mind reminding him how creepy the movie was every time he’s about to drift off

🎧 so does not fuck with ghosts, if he didn’t believe in them before he certainly does now. the poor guy looks up how to ward away spirits and ends up carrying around a salt packet on him for the next two weeks

tsuzuru minagi

📖 tsuzuru’s not exactly a horror fan. he claims it’s brainless and pointless

📖 (admittedly he’s a little scared of them, but he still thinks they’re dependent on shock alone, and have zero rewatch value since the writing is more focused on in-the-moment spooks than actual plot.)

📖 he’ll roll his eyes and tease you a little but eventually he’ll go along with watching a horror movie

📖 to psych himself out of his fear tsuzuru decides to watch them critically and note what plot points to do (or more likely not to do) for future plays

📖 this works out for the beginning but by the middle of the movie he’s enraptured. he can’t tell if it’s actually good or if it’s a car wreck he can’t help but watch

📖 does the corny move where he yawns and wraps an arm around you, and you’d almost buy it from his earlier cynicism but then the killer shows their face and he tenses up like hell and you just know

📖 gets embarrassed every time he’s scared- he even turns pink, and gets even redder if you try to hold his hand or cuddle him closer (even though there’s nothing he’d want more after something that creepy)

📖 by the end he’s got a few new ideas that might go to autumn or winter troupe’s latest plays, and admits okay, fine, maybe horror isn’t so pointless after all

itaru chigasaki

🎮 screw movies, you’re playing horror games instead!

🎮 most of itaru’s horror games are single-player, so one of you takes the controller while the other sits next to the player, but itaru’ll drape his arms around you from behind in a back hug the entire time you play

🎮 he doesn’t really shut up. the entire time, he’s either cracking a joke or trying to freak you out more, if only so he doesn’t get in his head and overthink the creepy atmosphere

🎮 asshole only quiets down when the game gets tense, and then suddenly puts his hands around your shoulders or neck to scare you. regardless if you fall for it or not, he always laughs at himself and just-so-happens to break the tension as a scary cutscene plays

🎮 still commentates when he’s the player, but gasps or jumps even at small atmospheric scares

🎮 itaru definitely overthinks the game. he gets super cautious over tiny details and makes the missions way harder than they should be since he keeps overestimating the enemy line of sight and how noisy the avatar is

🎮 if you happen to be playing a co-op horror it’s a constant “no u” battle over who should do the scariest tasks

🎮 “reader, we need to cleanse the room next. you should do it” “no, you should do it. you have the quartz item remember” “i can give it to you since you have the ghost ward” “the ghost ward doesn’t apply to this quest, besides, you’re better at this ghost attack quick time event than me” “no it does, and you’re more optimized” “i can just give the items to you-“ “no you should do it” “no you” “no you” “no you” “no y-”

🎮 you both lose

citron

🍋 citron loves horror movies! he thinks they’re... comforting?

🍋 turns out he’s only seen movies about cursed dolls and b-horror, which explains a lot- he loves dolls too much to be scared by them and he thinks b-list horror is hilarious- but he’ll still proudly proclaim he’s unflappable and swear to protect you from the bad guys

🍋 when you’re actually watching the movie you can’t tell if he’s faking his reactions or not. he’s very noisy

🍋 he gets scared enough during the gruesome and horrific scenes to hold you close and tight like a teddy bear, and during the worst of it he might muffle a scream by diving into the crook of your neck, obscuring his vision until the scene changes

🍋 and yet, he laughs at the next scene’s unrealism, and manages to poke enough fun at the movie that you giggle and his terror disappears, he loves your laugh way more than he can be afraid of monsters

🍋 can’t do gore for the life of him, but when it comes to the actual plot, he’s rather critical of characters acting dumb. he catches on to nonsensical writing quick, but usually asks you to clarify the plot holes before realizing that he found a loophole in the writing

🍋 whenever you’re scared and not even his goofy reactions and commentary can help, he plants a sweet kiss on your cheek, strokes your hair, and holds you close to his chest until the fear goes away. he’s surprisingly good at protecting you from the movie

🍋 after the movie he’ll say his country has a similar legend to the movie monsters, but he claims the legends are true in zafra, and zafrans have a very specific tradition to prevent the monsters from attacking them

🍋 the movie also gave citron the idea of creepily standing behind you silently until you turn around and get startled, or occasionally chanting in a strange, cultish language and pretending he didn’t say a thing, or making a doll with the same markings as the clown puppet from the movie...

🍋 citron continues to be even scarier than the actual horror movie, but can’t wait until the next horror night! maybe watching it was a bad idea after all...

chikage utsuki

🌙 chikage just doesn’t get the appeal of horror. it’s just a fake movie, why do people get so creeped out by terrible sfx and unrealistic monsters?

🌙 he’s seen scarier things than any werewolf pack, zombie outbreak, or witch coven can throw at him. if you insist on watching a scary movie, fine, he’ll be happy to let you sit on his lap, just don’t expect to creep him out as well, or else you’ll be sorely disappointed.

🌙 he analyzes the movie more than he watches it, but doesn’t speak up even though the fight scenes look pitiful. if this were real life, he’d sweep the whole brood of shambling monstrosities in record time and be back home in time for izumi’s curry

🌙 chikage runs his hands under your shirt whenever the monster’s on screen to scare you. it’s actually really creepy- his fingers are light and quick and always makes you flinch, even if you know it’s just your boyfriend

🌙 he’ll listen to your thoughts about the movie, but doesn’t have strong opinions himself. he thinks the scares are mediocre at best, even without considering his background, but won’t mention how unrealistic it was unless you mention it first.

🌙 psychological horror, however, is a whole different story

🌙 maybe chikage can’t get scared by generic spirit halloween monsters but once you introduce thought-provoking plot, questions and dilemmas, now he’s hooked

🌙 he really likes wondering if the protagonist is actually the good guy and making theories about the origins of the monsters and why they’re so destructive, even if he forgets about them once the movie’s over.

🌙 love love looooves the “the monsters were harmless creatures before humans dished out the first blow” trope. he knows how common it is, but there’s a lot of ways to go about it, especially on a subtextual level, and he just can’t get enough

🌙 the deeper the plot is, expect a longer conversation about the ins and outs of it. they get surprisingly thoughtful and introspective, even if chikage throws in a few bullshit stories related to the movie just to watch you squirm

[viking-raider]

Southern Generation - Part VI

Summary: Sy officially moves in with Lily and they go on a road trip to make amends.

Pairing: Austin Syverson/OFC (Lily)

Word Count: 11,965

Warning: PG-13 - Language, Fluff, Angst, Smut, Oral - F Receiving, Drama, Pregnancy Cravings

Inspiration: Syverson is OP

Author's Note: Thanks to the wonderful @wondersofdreaming

Author's Note 2: Make sure to follow and turn on the notifications for my Tag List blog @viking-raider-taglist to stay up to date on this and all my other stories!

“That's the last of them.” Sy smiled, setting the last box of his stuff down.

With Lily pregnant and them making their relationship official, Sy moved all of his stuff from his Austin apartment into the farmhouse with Lily.

“Well, officially.” Lily replied, resting her hands on her hips and looking up at him. “Welcome home.” She smiled, giddy and proud.

“Thanks, Darling.” He grinned back, cupping her face and kissed her.

Lily smiled, as she woke up from her nap, feeling the warm and heavy weight of Sy's body in bed with her, his head in its customary place, on her chest. She usually woke up from her naps with Sy, whether or not he was with her, when she fell asleep or not. Sighing and moaning softly, she lifted her hand to twist the short, curling ends of his hair between her fingertips.

“Hm.” Sy hummed softly, rubbing his scruffy face against her chest and hugging his arms tighter around her middle, thumb stroking her tummy.

“I'm surprised at you.” Lily whispered, still playing with his hair.

“Why?” Sy moaned back, turning his head to look up at her.

“When I first met you, I half wondered what your hair would look like if you let it grow out.” She explained, running her fingers through it.

“Oh?” He chuckled, smirking at her.

“Yeah.” She blushed at him. “But, I just didn't expect the Bear, Austin Syverson, would have curls.” She grinned at him, twisting the ends of his hair between her fingers, she loved his developing curls.

“My hair hasn't been this long in ten years.” Sy laughed, blushing and biting his lip. “I've been thinking about cutting it again.”

“I will end you, Wyatt.” Lily threatened, touching the tip of her finger to his nose.

“Oh, busting out the middle name and everything.” He smirked, taking a playful snap at the tip of her finger. “Lily?” He whispered, biting the inside of his lip as he stared into her eyes.

“What?” She replied, tilting her head at him.

“Have you thought about going back?” Sy murmured, brow creasing. “Back to Middleburg, to see your grandparents. Jak isn't a threat anymore. I'm sure they would love to see you and I'd bet my life, you want to see them again. Especially now, with the baby on the way.”

Lily pressed her lips together, resting her hands on Sy's shoulders. “It would be nice to see them again.” She answered, after a long pause.

“But?” He pressed, sensing it coming next.

“What if they don't want to see me?” She asked, searching his eyes for comfort, and found it. “What if they don't want me in their life anymore?”

Sy took a deep breath, sitting up as he did, and brought Lily up with him. “Then, that's their loss.” He told her, folding her up in his arms and pressing his lips to her forehead. “If they don't want you in their life, then they are missing out on knowing one of the most amazing gals, who can light up a room, simply by walking into it.”

“You're just buttering me up, Austin.” Lily mumbled into his neck.

“Woman, have I ever lied to you?” Sy grinned into her hair.

“No.” She chuckled, blushing shyly.

“I don't intend to now, Angel.” He whispered, kissing her temple. “But, you won't know their reaction, unless you go and see them.” He added, softer.

“I know.” She whispered back, leaning against his chest. “You're right. I owe it to them and myself.”

“Whatever choice you make, I'll support you, every step of the way.” Sy told her, gently tipping her head back and tenderly kissed her.

“I think I want to go see them.” Lily said, later that night, while she and Sy sat at the dinner table.

Sy looked up from his plate of spaghetti and garlic bread, slowly lowering his fork. “All right.” He nodded, straightening his back and giving her his full attention. “When do you wanna go?”

“The sooner, the better, I think.” She mumbled, shifting in her seat, her own dinner mostly untouched.

Sy nodded his head again, quietly regarding Lily from across the table. He could see the worried and fearful anxiety on her face, still mulling over every worst case scenario about seeing her grandparents again, he could almost see every one of them tick by her eyes. Afraid that her grandparents would disown her, the moment they laid eyes on her. Blaming her for what transpired with Jak. Afraid of what their reaction would be, when she showed up at their door, after five years of silence, pregnant with the baby of man they had never heard of or met before, especially since they were incredibly religious.

He reached across the table, just in time to catch the tear that escaped and started to slip down her cheek, then rested his hand over hers. “No matter what happens, Lily. You still have me.” He told her, lovingly.

“You still have us.”

Lily grasped Sy's hand and tried to smile at him and not cry at the same time, which was hard with the way her hormones were starting to really get out of control. “I know.” She choked back.

“Let me finish painting the rest of the house and go to your twelve week baby appointment on Friday, then we'll pack a bag and ourselves into the car and drive out there.” He told her, making a game plan, so her frazzled and tired mind could relax.

“It's only a twenty-ish hour drive.”

“I think, that's a good idea.” Lily nodded, chewing on her lip, taking deep breaths.

Sy smiled and squeezed her hand. “Good.” He chuckled and let her hand go, before picking his fork back up and dug into his spaghetti.

Sy double checked his large, Army issued duffel bag, making sure he and Lily had enough clothing, he had her zofran, nausea medicine, and prenatal vitamin, along with everything else he, Lily and Aika would need for the almost nineteen hour drive from Celina to Middleburg, Virginia, having already put her pregnancy pillow in the car, before tugging the bag closed, slung it over his shoulder and went downstairs.

“Billie promised to keep an eye on the place and pick up the mail for us.” Lily said, meeting him in the entryway hall.

“Great.” He smiled. “Well, I got all our stuff packed.” He said, jostling the duffel bag.

“I already packed some snacks in the truck too.”

“Then, we're all set!”

“No, I have to pee, one more time.” Lily giggled, and rushed into the half bath.

Sy laughed, shaking his head and took the duffel bag out to the truck, dropping it in the back seat with Aika. “All set?” He asked as Lily came out of the house.

“I am now!” She nodded, crossing the yard to the truck and got into the passenger seat.

“Did you lock up?” He asked, getting in with her.

“Yep.”

“You good, Aika?” Sy asked, looking to the German Shepherd, who let out a loud bark. “All right, let's get this road trip underway!” He pulled up Google Maps on his phone and entered the address to Lily's grandparents' place, then set the device on its dock and started the truck.

Sy and Lily laughed, as they sang along to a song that came on Sy's playlist that they both liked, Enemies by Shinedown. But, Sy turned the song down, when Lily suddenly stopped singing and quickly identified the look she got just before she threw up. Quickly popping open the center console, Sy reached inside of it and pulled out a circular, blue and white object and opened it, holding it out to her. Lily took it from him, without question and threw up in it, once or twice.

“Where did you get this?” She asked, looking at it, realizing it was a hospital-grade nausea bag. “Did you rob a hospital?” She chuckled, looking over at him.

“No.” He laughed back at her. “I bought them off Amazon. I wasn't sure if you got car sick on long rides or not. But, I was sure the baby would make you nauseous, at least, once on the drive. So, I wanted to be prepared and make you as comfortable as possible in the process.”

Lily tied the used bag closed, then opened the center console and found another twenty-plus of the blue emesis bags inside. She smiled up at him, shaking her head in disbelief of his utter and complete thoughtful and preparedness.

“You never cease to amaze me, Austin.” She said, sitting back up. “You see how amazing your Daddy is.” Lily grinned, looking at her belly, and making Sy blush.

“Well, I gotta take care of ya, don't I?” He smirked, resting his hand on her thigh.

“Yeah, I suppose.” She sighed, smirking back at him.

“There's some Listerine strips in the center console, by the way.” Sy added, after a few quiet moments.

“I'm sorry, am I offending you?” Lily giggled, opening the console again and fished around for them, before finding the small blue case.

“No, no.” He grinned, chuckling. “Just figured you'd want to get the taste out of your mouth.” He explained, finally getting them on the interstate highway.

“Did you pack my nausea meds?” Lily asked, feeling another wave wash over her.

“Yeah. It's in our bag.” Sy nodded, brow creasing, as he tried to figure out what stupid shenanigans the car in front of them was up too.

Lily twisted in her seat and pulled the worn green bag between the front seats, tugging it open and riffled through it, until she found the little prescription bottle of tiny, white oval tablets, then turned back around. She removed one of the pills and cracked open one of the two bottles of Voss water in the cup holders and downed the pill.

“Why don't you rest?” Sy suggested, reaching behind her seat for her pregnancy pillow. “It's just going to be annoying highway stuff for a while.” He said, giving her the pillow.

“I don't want you to get lonely.” Lily protested, maneuvering and situating the U-shaped pillow into a comfortable position.

Sy smiled over at her. “I'll be fine, Angel.” He assured her. “If I get lonely, I'll talk to Aika and we'll play the quiet game.” He chuckled, looking at the dog from the rear view mirror. “I'll wake you up around one, and we'll find some little place to have lunch.”

“If you're sure.” Lily yawned, she was usually already in the middle of a nap by now.

“Positive, Sweetness.” He nodded, turning the heat on a bit to make sure she was kept warm.

Lily contorted her body in her seat, drawing up her legs and propping her head and the curve of her pillow against the window, wrapping her arms around it and hugging it against her body, before dozing off to sleep. Sy reached out and rested his hand on her leg, gently massaging it as he kept his eyes on the road, just listening to the hum of the tires on the worn asphalt of Interstate Forty fill the silent cabin of the truck; Aika curled up on the backseat. The quiet boredom of the road allowed the devil to whisper into Sy's ear.

He wasn't sure what to do, if Lily's grandparents, the people that raised her, rejected her, and not only her, but their great grand-baby, his child. He knew he had to be strong for Lily, it would crush her, if they wanted nothing to do with her and the baby, but Sy wasn't so sure he would be able to keep himself under control. He had a feeling he would end up giving the couple a very big piece of his mind, before bringing Lily back home to Celina.

“It'll be fine.” He said aloud, glancing over at Lily. “It'll be all right.” He assured her sleeping form, leaning over just enough to lay his hand on her belly.

Sy found a turn off into Memphis just before one in the afternoon, parking at a small riverfront park in downtown Memphis, giving Lily a quiet place to wake up and all three of them a place to stretch their legs, and Aika a place to pee.

“Hey.” Sy called, softly, shutting off the car and leaning across the console. “Lily. Wake up, baby.” He cooed at her, brushing his knuckles against her cheek and tucking her hair behind her ear, kissing the corner of her mouth. “Hey, sweet pea.” He grinned, watching her eyes slowly flutter open, blinking at the bright sunlight glittering off the murky river water.

“Where are we?” She asked in a sleepy voice, rubbing her cheek against the microfiber cover of her pillow.

“The home of the King, Memphis Tennessee.” Sy chuckled, teasingly, and kissed her again. “So, love me tender.”

“I'm all shook up.” Lily chuckled, unfolding herself and sitting up in her seat.

“Well, it's now or never, baby doll.” Sy roared, his head going back.

“Oh, don't be cruel.”

“But, I can't help fallin' in love.” He chimed back.

“What now, my love?” Lily asked, smirking at him.

“I knew there was a reason I loved you.” Sy commented, finding more and more of them every day. “But, I thought we'd get some fresh air and stretch our legs, I'm sure Aika has to pee. Then, we'll find some lunch.”

“I like that idea.” Lily nodded, pushing her pillow into the back seat, then climbed out of the truck, taking the used nausea bag with her to throw away, while Sy put Aika on her leash.

Sy took Lily by the hand and strolled down the little sidewalk along the riverside, watching the various types of boats go by them on the water. The weather was nice and warm with pleasant enough humidity, a few clouds floating in the baby blue sky.

“Are you craving anything specific?” Sy asked as they patiently waited for Aika to do her business in the grass beside them.

“Hmm.” Lily hummed, pressing her lips together and considering if there was something specific she wanted for lunch; she hadn't had any definitive cravings yet, other than the three days she really needed to eat Mac and Cheese.

But, something specific did strike Lily.

“A pretzel.” She purred, already licking her lips at the thought of the salty baked good.

Sy chuckled at her, amused at the expression on her face, eyes closed and dreamy. “All right. I'll get you a pretzel then.”

It was like a ding went off in Lily's soul. “I want a lot of Pretzels.” She said, eyes popping open and looked up Sy, almost manic and desperate.

“Okay.” He replied, brows raised and blinking at her. “I'll get you a pretzel for lunch, then some to munch on.”

“Yeah.” Lily nodded, staring down at their feet, eyes wide. “Pretzels are good.”

“That they are.” Sy agreed, snickering, unable to keep back his amusement.

Lily's eyes snapped up at him, watching him laugh at her, his eyes practically teasing and making fun of her. “Shut up.” She snapped, but started to laugh back at him. “I can't help it.”

“I know you can't.” He nodded, trying to stop, but it only made him laugh harder. “That's what makes it even better.”

“I hate you.” Lily giggled, playful punching him in the arm. “Now, I want my pretzel, Captain.”

“Yes, Major!” Sy replied, saluting her, then quickly cleaned up after Aika and took them back to the truck. “I just need to find a place to get you one.” He sighed, taking his phone off its dock and googled where to get a pretzel in Memphis, Tennessee.

“Okay, there's an Auntie Anne's not that far from us that does pretzels.” He said, saving the directions and setting them in that direction.

Leaving Aika in the car, Lily and Sy went into the shopping center the Auntie Anne's was in, navigating the crowd and line to the counter. Lily chewed on her lip for a moment, torn between getting a regular pretzel or the pretzel bites, before finally deciding on the bites with the nacho cheese dip. With her food, they navigated their way around again and Sy got himself something from the Wendy's the center had as well, before going back out to the truck to eat there; Lily stealing a couple of Sy's french fries and sharing a couple of her pretzel bites.

Once their lunch was finished and they tossed their empty containers away, Sy made a quick run into the Mega Wal-Mart across the street from the shopping center to buy a big bag of mini pretzels and a case of Voss water for Lily, knowing she was going to get very thirsting from devouring them.

“Thank you.” Lily said, when Sy gave her the bag as he got in the car, her eyes glued on the bag.

“Just don't turn into one.” He teased her, chuckling. “All right, let's get back on the road.”

“I don't want you driving all night, Austin.” Lily mumbled around a mouthful of pretzel.

“I know and I won't.” He replied, reaching a hand into the bag. “I'll go until sun down, then we'll find a place to sleep for the night.” He said, then crammed the four or five pretzels into his mouth.

“Good.” Lily smiled, passing back a pretzel to Aika, who quickly devoured it and came back for more.

Reaching Blacksburg, Virginia just after dark, Sy found a drive-thru to order them dinner and a motel for the night, parking out front of the motel's office. Sighing, he rested back in the driver's seat, scrubbing his palms over his tired face and lulled his head to the side to look over at Lily, who had fallen asleep again, twisted around her pillow and her half eaten bag of pretzels clutched to her chest. They were three hours away from her grandparents' orchard, three hours from finding out whether or not they would be in Lily and the baby's life.

“Watch her, girl.” Sy said to Aika, before slipping out of the truck, locking the doors for extra measure, and going inside the office to get a room.

Once he had the room, Sy got back into the truck and parked as close to the room as he could, before going around and opening Lily's door, careful not to let her slip out. Then, gently took the pretzel bag from her and set it aside, unbuckled her seat belt and tried to figure out for a moment how to untangle the mess of limbs and pregnancy pillow, but quickly gave up with an amused chuckle. He just picked up both her and the pillow to carry her into their room and laid her down on the bed, tugging the turned down blankets over her, then went out to get their bag, dinner and Aika.

“Hey, Angel.” Sy smiled, closing the room door with his foot as Lily sat up, rubbing at her face and pushing her hair out of her face. “I got us some food.” He said, holding up the bag.

“You hungry?”

Lily nodded, still sleepy. “Where are we now?” She asked, sitting cross legged on the bed, beside Sy as they ate their food.

“Blacksburg.” He replied, shoving fries in his mouth. “About three hours away from your grandparents' place.”

Lily bit her lip and nodded her head, staring at the half eaten, plain chicken sandwich in her hand, suddenly losing her appetite and set it down. “I'm gonna take a shower, I'm sore.” She mumbled, getting off the bed and headed into the tiny bathroom.

Turning on the light and closing the door, Lily let out a heavy breath and tugged her tank top off over her head, followed by her elephant patterned leggings and underwear, before turning towards the shower, the walls were dingy and discolored, but clean. Spinning the hot and cold taps, then stepping under the shoddy shower-head, she leaned her forehead against the cracked acrylic wall, letting the pleasantly warm water cascade down her back, like a waterfall, with a soft moan. She was starting to have second thoughts about going to see her grandparents. She wondered how upset or disappointed Sy would be, if she told him she wanted to go back home to Celina in the morning, instead of going the three hours to Middleburg to see them.

She wondered how disappointed in herself she would be later on, if she chickened out this close to their destination.

The bathroom door opened and closed, followed by the rustle of clothing, before Sy stepped into the shower behind Lily, resting one hand on her hip and brought the other one around to cup the gentle slope of Lily's belly, pressing his lips to the base of her neck. Gulping down a thicket of emotions in her throat, Lily turned in Sy's arms and pressed herself against his chest, nuzzling her face into his neck. He smiled against her wet hair, gently kneading her hips and lower back, knowing after so many hours in the car and the way she contorted her body to sleep, she must have been in pain.

“Let me take care of you.” He whispered, kissing her forehead.

Sy picked up the little bottle of travel sized, hotel shampoo, broke the seal on it and poured it into his broad palm, then gently massaged it into her hair, stealthily wiping away a line of soap that dripped down her forehead and almost in her eye. Lily closed her eyes, softly moaning at the gentle and pleasurable pressure of Sy's strong and blunt fingers working the scentless shampoo into her scalp, his thumbs moving out to methodically rub her temples, easing the edge off of the tension migraine she had all day. Sy tipped her head back into the spray of the shower, combing his fingers through her wet and soapy strands to rinse out the shampoo. With her hair washed, he found a small wash cloth and bar of soap, and started to wash her body, beginning with her shoulders and applying a little bit of pressure as he did to massage the cramped muscles there.

“God, that feels so good.” Lily sighed, melting under his tender affection, a smile twitching on her face as he rubbed the cloth over the ticklish spots of her sides.

Sy smiled, kissing the bridge of her nose. “Anything for you, Angel.” He cooed back, paying special attention to the beautifully growing bulge of her belly.

“Thank you.” She whispered, relaxed and sleepy, after they got out of the shower, letting Sy dry her off and secure the towel around her body.

“You're welcome, Sweetheart.” He replied, kissing her cheek.

Lily went back into the room and opened their duffel bag, just pulling out the first article of clothing that her hand came in contact with, which was Sy's worn, Jack Daniels, Tennessee Whiskey t-shirt and let the towel slip off her and pulled on his shirt. Sy stood in the bathroom doorway, still naked and dripping from the shower and smiled at her, loving how the black garment hung on her like a dress, her shoulder length hair dripping and making it wet as she brushed it.

He had never seen anyone so beautiful in his life.

Moving over to the full sized bed, Sy situated her pregnancy pillow, then turned towards Lily. “Lay down, Angel.” He cooed at her.

Frowning at him for a moment, but seeing the look in his blue eyes, Lily chuckled and laid down, situating herself with her head and neck propped up on the belly of the pillow and her body comfortably cradled in the middle of it. Sy picked up her discarded towel and used it to dry off some, before turning off the room lights, then crawled into bed with her. Moving between Lily's legs and gently bending up her knees and pushing them apart, Lily's startled gasp filled the dark room as Sy's warm breath wafted over her exposed folds, just before his wide tongue took one long and leisurely lick.

“Jesus H. Christ!” She cried out, gripping the arms of her pillow.

“Just me, Angel.” Sy chuckled, hooking his arms around her legs, so they rested on his shoulders, and pressed his palms down on top of her thighs, to keep her still, before dipping his head back down and pressing an open kiss to her clit, flicking the tip of his tongue against it, melting Lily into a sweet and needy whimper.

Sy licked and suckled at her delicate pussy, slipping his tongue between her folds to tease her entrance and get a deeper taste of her, lewd noises filled the room as neither of them hid the pleasure they were in and having. Lily rocked against his mouth, her hands pressed to the back of Sy's head to hold him in place, eyes rolled and fluttered, her anxiety of not wanting to go to her grandparents' in the morning completely forgotten in the heady peak of her orgasm.

“I love your mouth.” Lily sighed, out of breath, exhausted and pleasantly numb.

Sy roared with laughter, laying down beside her. “Good to know.” He grinned, pulling the blankets over them and draping his arm over her. “Good night, Angel.” He whispered, kissing her cheek.

“Night, Bear.” She mumbled back, starting to drift off.

Sy stayed awake for a little while, his hand slipping up inside the shirt she was wearing to gently caress her belly and stared at the back of her head. “God,” He whispered, careful not to wake or disturb her. “I don't ask much of you. But, for whatever my word is worth, please don't let these people hurt my girl. She needs and wants them in her life, so does our little one.” He said, lifting his hand to gently stroke her damp hair.

“Let this meeting tomorrow go well, for all of us.” He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut and hugging Lily back against him.

Lily took a deep breath and held it, as Sy turned the truck off the main road and onto the dirt road leading onto the Warren Orchard farm, seeing the tall apple tree shaped sign with Warren Apples carved elegantly in its trunk. It wasn't long before they came to the closed security gate, shutting them off from the rest of the farm. Sy rolled the truck to a stop and looked over to Lily, lifting a brow at her, waiting for her to tell him what they should do next, when a voice came to life next to him.

“Welcome to Warren Apple Orchards, what can I do for you?” A deep Southern drawl asked from a mounted intercom box outside the driver's side window.

Sy rolled down his window and leaned closer to the box, spotting the security camera mounted above the one side of the gate. “Yeah, we're here looking for the owners of the place.” He replied, glancing over at Lily again.

“Mr. and Mrs. Warren aren't taking visitors just now.”

Lily huffed through her nose and leaned over the center console and Sy. “Tell them, Liliana wants to see them, Judd.” She called out, biting and pressing her lips together.

There was a long pause with a bubble of tension, before an electric buzz filled the humid air around them and the metal gate rolled out of their way. Lily sat back in her seat and Sy gave her a concerned look, before driving though.

“You know him?”

“He's worked here as long as I can remember.” Lily replied, staring out her window to the immaculate lawn and row of trees beyond that. “Just keep following the road, you'll find the house at the end of it.” She added, picking at the hem of the shorts she was wearing.

True enough, a few minutes later, a massive colonial, plantation house appeared behind ancient weeping willows. Made mostly of white stone with two stories of wrap around porches and ornate black railings, tall marble columns, from the foundation to the roof; what looked like five chimneys, three turrets and an apple tree weathervane. The driveway looped around the front of the house, leading up the stairs onto the porch was double french, front doors.

Sy was in complete awe of it as he pulled around to the front of the driveway. “This place is amazing.”

“Yeah.” Lily gulped, biting her lip and stared up at the house. “Oh dear god.” She whimpered, shrinking her seat, trying to hide.

“What?” Sy frowned, then noticed a whited haired man step out of the house, wearing a pair of light brown khaki pants and a black pull over sweater with the Warren Orchard's logo on it, an apple with an arrow threw it, the front of the arrow's shaft bent in the shape of a W.

“I'm guess, that's--”

“My grandfather.” Lily nodded, peeking over the edge of the door to look up at him. “Yep.” She sighed, squeezing her eyes shut and pressed her forehead to the window.

“Well, you can't hide forever, Angel.” Sy told her, tilting his head at her. “He knows we're here and this is more than likely us, sitting here.”

“I know.” Lily huffed, chewing her lip. “I know.”

“You can do this, babe.” He encouraged her. “I'm right here, Angel.”

Lily looked over at him, looking at him like a lost puppy, before taking a deep breath and fortifying herself. “You're right.” She nodded, leaning over and kissed him.

Taking another deep breath, Lily opened her door and stepped out of the truck, gulping as she looked up the steps to her grandfather. Her heart felt like a war drum in her chest, she was excited to see him again, he didn't seem any different from the last time he had seen him, at least, not from the distance they were at.

But, she was also afraid of what was about to happen next.

“Paw-Paw.” She called out to him, softly, her voice shaky.

“Liliana.” He replied, lifting a snowy brow at her, his honey-brown eyes scrutinizing her.

“I've missed you.” Lily blurted out, sniffling, tears burning her eyes. “I'm sorry I disappeared. I'm sorry I just ran away and I didn't tell either of you where I was going or why. That I stayed away for so long without a word.”

“But, I thought about you all the time.”

He stared hard at her, crossing his arms over his chest. “You scared the daylights out of your grandmother and I, Liliana. We tried looking for you everywhere, but you just vanished into thin air, like you never existed.” He told her, his anger slowly showing on his face.

“We thought you were dead.”

Lily bowed her head, ashamed for what she had put her grandparents through. “I'm sorry. It wasn't my intention, Paw-Paw.” She choked, looking back up at him, breathing hard.

“Then, what was your intention, Liliana?” He barked at her, his eyes glowing with rage. “Who are you?” He hissed, as Sy came around the front of the truck to wrap an arm around Lily's waist, to comfort her.

Sy looked up at him for a moment, his eyes hard at the man. “Austin Syverson.” He replied, hugging Lily against his side and rubbing her back.

“Your relation to my granddaughter is what?”

“I'm her boyfriend.” He replied, narrowing his eyes at the other man. “Look, she's come here, because she misses you both, very much, and has regretted the way she left. But, she had to leave, she had a very valid reason in doing so. In reality, she's an adult, more than capable of making her own choices and doesn't have to answer to anyone as to why she's made them.” He told Lily's grandfather.

“That includes you.”

“But, she's gained the strength to come here to try and make amends with you both, for more than one reason. You can either accept that or you can not. What happens now, is up to you.”

“Davy, who is it?”

A voice called from the double doors behind Lily's grandfather, before it opened to a thin, elderly woman with a short, curly pixie cut, who struggled to wheel herself out of the house and onto the porch. Her dim and pale blue eyes almost instantly found Lily at the bottom of the porch stairs, her hands flew to the front of her flower pattern dress, mouth dropping open.

“Liliana!” She exclaimed, reaching out a hand to her husband.

“Mee-maw.” Lily sniffled back, smiling at her grandmother through her tears.

“Thank the Lord, you're all right, my sweet child.” She cried, pressing a hand to her mouth.

“I am.” Lily nodded, wiping at her eyes. “And, I wanna be part of your lives again. I want to make amends for what I did by running away and disappearing. I'm sorry, I hurt you and Paw-Paw.”

Lily's grandmother looked up at her husband, who was still glaring at Lily and Sy, pressed her lips together, then looked back at them. “Come inside.” She said, letting his hand go and turned her wheelchair around and headed back towards the door.

“Davy.” She called over her shoulder.

Sighing, he turned and pulled the door open for her, eyeing Lily and Sy as they mounted the porch stairs, then followed his wife inside the house, before doing the same. She rolled down the hallway and turned into the private study, motioning to the long leather couch and parked herself in front of it.

“Hello.” She said, looking at Sy as he sat down beside Lily on the couch.

“Ma'am.” He replied, politely nodding his head to her.

“Who might you be?”

“Austin Syverson, Ma'am.” Sy answered with a sweet smile. “I'm your granddaughter's boyfriend.”

“Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Syverson.” She replied, regarding him. “I'm Violet Warren, and this is my husband, Davis.” She said, motioning to him as he took a seat in a chair to Lily and Sy's left.

“Sir.” Sy said, nodding his head stiffly to him.

“You're looking well, Liliana.” Violet commented, turning her attention to her granddaughter.

“Thank you.” Lily whispered, licking her lips. “I just go by Lily now.”

Violet nodded her head. “Very well.” She acknowledged. “Where've you been, Lily?”

Lily drew a deep breath through her nose and slowly let it back out. “It's a long story.” She whimpered, gripping Sy's hand for support, chewing the inside of her cheek to bits.

Davis and Violet glanced at each other, before she leaned forward and took a small hand bell off the coffee table between them and rang it. A moment later, a young lady appeared in the doorway of the room and Violet asked her to serve them some tea. The tension was tight and thick in the room while the tea was being made for them, no one saying a word to each other. The servant returned, carrying in a highly polished tea tray and set it down on the coffee table, setting out teacups for the four of them and filled the cups, before leaving the room again.

“What is your story, Lily?”

Carefully drizzling a bit of honey into her tea with a honey dipper and taking a fortifying sip of it, Lily started her story. “You know that I had been seeing Jak.” She said, looking between her grandparents.

“We did.” Violet nodded, taking a sip of her own tea.

“Well, what you didn't know was Jak had been abusive to me.” She continued, staring into the rich and steamy liquid in the expensive china teacup. “He had been the entire time we were together. But, I was too naive and silly to break it off with him for the longest time. But, after a particularly bad incident, I decided I couldn't take it any longer. So, I packed a bag and went to live with Maggie. I didn't tell you-” She paused, brow creased, she had often thought about why she hadn't told them, but had never really pinned down a specific reason to why she hadn't.

But, she shook that thought off.

“I honestly don't know why I hadn't. All I knew was I was terrified of Jak finding me again and dragging me back into the life and situation I had been living in for so long with him. While I was with Maggie, I changed my name from Liliana Jade Warren to Lily Ana Moore, to make it harder for him to find me, which made it hard for the both of you to find me, and finished university.” She continued on. “After I did that, I moved to a very small town in Texas and started my own company for my Graphic Design and Photography.”

“It's how I've been supporting myself.”

“I was so consumed by my paranoia and fear of Jak finding me, that I never left the house I bought in Texas, five years ago, this is the farthest I've been from it, since I've moved there.” She confessed, looking to Sy, who smiled at her, supportive and proud.

“What's changed?” Her grandfather asked, his own teacup still where the servant set it, ignored and cold. “Why are you here now?”

Lily cleared her throat and set her tea aside. “I left and became reclusive, agoraphobic, because I felt unsafe and afraid. That Jak would end up finding me and hurting me. He did end up finding me, but Austin...” She looked to Sy, her eyes filled with appreciative love and pride. “Austin makes me feel safe again. He's protected me, in more than one way, and he's shown me what real love is. I owe him so much.”

Sy grinned brightly at her, gripping her hand, a bit choked up at her words.

“He's helped me get back to this place, a place I've held onto, wanting to be a productive member of society, to be back in your life and be your granddaughter again. I miss you and I love you both. That never changed and it will never change.”

“That never changed for us either, Lily.” Violet replied, resting her teacup back on its saucer. “You will always be our precious granddaughter and we have always loved you; from the moment you were born to this moment right now.”

“I hope you could find it in your heart, to have a little more love.” Lily whispered, biting the inside of her lip, gulping.

“For what?” Violet frowned, brows drawing together and head tilting at her.

Lily looked to Sy, who nodded his head at her. “Sy and I are expecting.” She mumbled, not meeting either of her grandparents' eyes.

“You're with child?” Violet asked, shocked disbelief in her voice.

“I am.” Lily nodded, whimpering.

“I hope you're not here, thinking this little reunion will get you money.” Her grandfather snapped, coldly.

Lily's eyes snapped over to him, a cold knot of shock, hurt and anger in her stomach, she could feel the tension stiffen Sy's body. “We don't need any of the family money.” She hissed, eyes hardening. “My business alone is quite well off, thank you; and I'm more than offended at the accusation.”

“That's putting it politely.” Sy chimed in, staring daggers into the old man.

“Davis.” Violet barked, offended at her husband's insult as well, she had no feeling that Lily and Sy were there looking for money or assistance with their lives or the baby.

“Excuse me, for the last time I recalled a couple sitting on that very same couch to tell us they were expecting a child, it was our sweet Daisy and that good for nothing, Palmer, and we all saw how that ended.” Davis replied, his voice cold and sharp.

“Austin isn't my father.” Lily barked, her voice mirroring her grandfather's.

Lily and her grandfather glared darkly at each other, before Violet grew annoyed with their childish behavior and clapped her bony hands together, catching the room's attention.

“That is quite enough.” She scolded them.

Sy hid his smirk around the rim of his teacup, already liking Lily's grandmother.

“How far along are you?” Violet asked, looking at Lily.

“Almost thirteen weeks.” She replied, unconsciously touching her belly.

“Do you know what you're having?”

“Not yet.” Lily grinned at Sy, giddy at the thought of finding out the gender of the baby, she didn't care if it was a boy or a girl, she was just excited in general. “We won't know for another five weeks.” She added, glancing over at her grandmother.

“Well,” Violet grinned, her eyes lighting up. “I can't wait to meet my great-grandbaby.” She said, sounding overjoyed at the prospect. “Davy?” She looked to her husband, her eyes still filled with excitement, but outlined with warning.

Davis looked at her for a moment, then over at Lily, before looking down at the watch on his right wrist, then stood. “I have to meet Mac in the south orchard.” He said, tonelessly, and left the room.

Lily let out an uneven breath and painful tears punched her in the chest, turning her face into Sy's collarbone as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and hugged her against his side, pressing his lips to her hair. Violet's mouth was pressed into a thin, angry, lipstick red line as she continued to stare out the study doorway after Davis, the rapturous event of finding out about their great-grandbaby being overshadowed by his stubborn pigheadedness.

“I think we should go.” Sy said to Lily, gently wiping away her tears.

“Please, do stay.” Violet chimed in, turning her attention back to them. “There's more than enough room right here.” She said, looking back and forth between Lily and Sy. “Please, it's been so long, Lily. You've been gone and so far away. Town is twenty minutes away and with you here now, two minutes is too far away.”

Lily looked up at Sy.

“It's up to you, Angel.” He whispered, brushing his thumb against her flushed cheek.

She looked over at her grandmother. “Of course, I would love that.” She whispered, wiping her nose on the back of her hand.

Violet smiled at her, relieved to have her granddaughter under the same roof again. “I'll have Clara set two extra places at the table.” She grinned, overjoyed. “I'll even have her make your favorites for lunch and dinner.”

Lily smiled at her, touched at her grandmother's sentiment. “Thank you.”

“You remember where your room is?” She replied, lifting a brow at her.

“I do.” Lily nodded her head.

“Then, I won't keep you any longer. I'm sure you must be tired with the baby and the long journey from Texas.”

“I am.” She agreed, sighing softly.

“Off you both go then, the bell will ring, when lunch is ready.”

“Thank you, Mee-Maw.” Lily said, nodding her head and stood up, Sy standing with her.

“Ma'am.” Sy nodded his head to Violet, then followed Lily out of the room and down the hall to a flight of stairs. “Well, that didn't go as badly as the two of us thought it would.” He commented, mounting the stairs behind her.

“No, it did not.” Lily replied over her shoulder, going up the three sets of stairs. “I just hope my grandfather comes around.” She added, coming to the second floor and going down to a door at the very end of the hall. “This is...was—my room.” She said, turning the vintage, metal and ceramic door knob that had a hand-painted gold floral design on it, and pushed the door open.

The bedroom was spacious and bright with the mid-morning sun shining in through four windows, between one set of windows sat a squat, five compartment, vintage chest of drawers, across from that was a full sized, poster bed, with the doorway to a bathroom to the left and a walk-in closet to the right. There was a bookcase and table against the wall by the door, mostly filled with church and home school related things.

“It's a nice room.” Sy commented, picking up one of the books on the table, a bible.

“Thanks.” Lily smiled, shyly, seeing that her grandparents had left her room the exact way she'd left it, when she moved out.

“Do you wanna rest for a little while?” He suggested, stepping up behind her and resting his hands on her hips, gently pressing his thumbs into the small of her back and massaging them.

“Yeah.” She moaned, her head dropping back against his chest, turning to kiss the underside of his bearded jaw.

“How about a nice warm bath first, maybe a cup of tea?”

Lily chuckled into his neck, grinning. “So dotting, Captain.” She teased him.

“I love you.” He cooed, kissing her forehead, then moved away from her and went into the bathroom, plugging the drain on the ancient claw-foot tub and turned the X-shaped tap handles.

Lily padded into the bathroom, sitting down on the closed toilet seat and pushed down the stress of her grandfather's behavior towards her, to watch Sy fill the bath for her, a soft smile on her face. She stood up for a moment and reached underneath the sink and removed a small bottle and handed it to him. Sy smiled at her and took it from her, uncapping it and getting the strong snap of eucalyptus and sprinkled the Epsom salt into the delicately warm water, before turning off the tap. He grabbed a towel and folded it, then situated it at one end of the tub, to pillow her head, when she started to soak.

“Now, where is the kitchen?” He asked, looking at her.

“Down the stairs, first door to your right.” Lily replied, getting out of her clothing.

“Cool, I'll be right back.” Sy told her, kissing her temple and stepped out of the room to go downstairs to get her tea.

Lily finished undressing and carefully stepped into the pleasantly warm water, leaning back with a soft and satisfied moan, focusing on the warm water enveloping her body easing away her aches and pains, melting away the anxieties that had accumulated during the drive over from Texas and the visit. While Sy found the kitchen and pushed open the swinging door, finding the cook, Clara, inside, who looked up as she heard him come in and wiped her hands on her apron.

“Can I help you?” She asked, lifting a brow at him.

“Um, just need a cup of tea.” He replied, licking his lips and glancing around the kitchen.

“Oh, of course, right away.”

“I'd hate to put you out.” Sy said, alarmed.

Clara chuckled at him, pulling down a cup from a high cabinet. “It's what the Warren's hired me for.” She assured him. “I'm guessing it's for Lily.” She added, moving about the kitchen as she put the things together to make the tea.

“Yeah.” He nodded, then patiently waited for her to finish and took the cup from her. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” Clara smiled, and returned to what she had been doing.

Sy carefully took the cup back upstairs to Lily, smiling as he stepped into the bathroom and saw her lounging comfortably in the tub. He was glad she could relax and let the stress go, even if it was for a little while. Lily stirred as he sat down beside her, smiling at him and taking the cup of tea from his outstretched hands and let out a pleased moan.

“Feels like a spa day.” She chuckled, handing her teacup back to Sy for him to hold, so she could relax back again.

“You deserve to relax.” Sy replied, softly. “You've got an important job to do.”

“Yeah, I'm growing a Syverson.” Lily chuckled, teasingly.

“Exactly.” He laughed back. “That's no easy feat to bring one of us into the world.”

“Bringing a Syverson into the world is just the start of it, then we have to raise them.”

“Oh, trouble, trouble, trouble.” Sy grinned at her. “Nothing, but trouble.”

“Toil and bubble.” Lily giggled, fully amused and lighthearted.

“Come on, sleepy, out with you.” Sy said, setting her empty teacup on the vanity counter and pulled the towel off the bar and held it open for her.

“Okay.” Lily replied, stifling a yawn with her hand.

Stepping out of the tub and into Sy's arms, she rested her forehead against his chest and let him dry her off. Sy had taken a liking to drying her off after she showered or bathed, since she'd become pregnant, none of which Lily protested to, she was usually very sleepy by the time she got out of them, so having him there to finish up was always nice.

“Oh, fuck.” He barked, after helping back into her clothing. “Your pillow is still in the truck.”

“It won't kill me to have one nap without it.” Lily said, through yet another yawn.

“You were a very cranky mama bear the last time you didn't have that thing to sleep with.” He reminded her. “I'll go down and get it, just sit tight.”

“I'd rather lay tight.” She huffed, starting to get cranky as she shuffled over to her bed and laid down.

Sy rushed back downstairs and nearly collided with Violet. “Oh my god, I am so sorry.” He panted, making sure she was all right. “ Are you okay?”

“I'm fine, where's the fire, Mr. Syverson?”

“Lily's laying down for her nap and I just realized she doesn't have her pregnancy pillow and she always wakes up very cranky, when she doesn't have it to sleep with.” He explained, calming down.

Violet smiled up at Sy, touched and pleased at the plain devotion he had for her granddaughter. “Well, we can't have that, now can we?” She chuckled, rolling back out of his way.

“No, ma'am.” Sy shook his head at her.

“Violet, Mr. Syverson. Just call me Violet.” She informed him as Sy reached the front door.

He paused, hand on the door and smiled at her, remembering when Lily told him to call her by her given name. “Of course, Ms. Violet.” He nodded at her, politely.

Violet smiled back at him and Sy went out to his truck.

“Hey, girl.” Sy said, opening the passenger door of the truck and only to get attacked by Aika's tongue. “I know, I know. I haven't forgotten about ya. I promise.” He chuckled, petting her. “I'll come back down in a couple minutes and take care of you. But first, I have to take care of your mama.” He said, reaching in the back seat for Lily's U-Shaped pillow, pushed Aika back and closed the door again, before rushing back upstairs.

“Okay, pillow.” Sy said, bursting into the room, only to find Lily curled into a ball and sound asleep, making him chuckling. He situated her pillow and gently unrolled Lily from her ball and slipped her between her pillow, before covering her up.

“Sleep sweet, Angel.” He whispered, kissing her cheek softly, then went back downstairs. “Um, do you know where Ms. Violet is?” He asked the servant that had served him and Lily tea when they had first arrived.

“Yes, she's in the private study, right through there.” She replied, pointing the way.

“Thank you.” He nodded, then went down, gently knocking on the door.

“Enter.”

“Ms. Violet?”

“Ah, Mr. Syverson, I'm trusting the pillow crisis was averted?” She asked, an amused glitter in her eyes.

Sy chuckled. “It was, thank you.”

“Then, what can I help you with?”

“I, uh, brought Lily and I's dog with us...” He said, sheepishly, though Lily's grandmother seemed like a very sweet woman, Sy got the vibe she was the authority in this household and crossing her wasn't the way to go. “She's in my truck and I didn't want to take her out without asking first, so I didn't step on any toes and cause any issues with you and your husband.”

“What kind of dog is she?”

“She's a German Shepherd.” Sy replied, licking his lips. “I found her in the war-zone on my last deployment.” He half explained to her.

Violet blinked several times at Sy. “You were in the military?”

“Yes, ma'am.” He nodded, with a deep sense of pride. “I was a Captain in the U.S Army, Special Forces, for more than ten years.”

“What's the pup's name?”

“Aika.”

“Well, Aika is more than welcome here.” She told him. “As long as she behaves herself.” She added, a soft smile on her face.

“She's a very well behaved dog, you have my word.” Sy replied, smiling back at her.

“Good.” Violet nodded. “Just make sure you keep her out of the orchards or Davis will have a never-ending fit.”

“Will do.”

Excusing himself, Sy went back out to the truck and put Aika on her leash, walking her around the front of the property and away from the orchards, making sure to clean up after her, then brought her inside, taking her upstairs to Lily's room, where she curled up on the bed with Lily, before he decided to do a little exploring himself before lunch.

He wandered into the orchards, seeing the short trunks, but wide crowns, light green and shiny apples weighing down its branches and a couple littered the ground. There easily had to be a hundred trees of the same sort for as far as Sy could see in the area he was in, before he moved on. Sy came to a small dirt lane and crossed it into a totally different portion of the orchard, these trees were still squat and wide, but the apples on their branches were medium sized and mostly two toned, a dull red that faded into a yellow-y green color.

He crossed another dirt road and found another orchard of another kind of apple, this one a light yellow color, when he heard voices and then his name and turned, seeing Lily's grandfather, realizing he had wandered into the south orchard.

“What are you doing out here?” Davis asked, approaching him.

“Just looking around.” Sy replied, keeping his tone guarded. “Lily's told me a lot about the place.”

“And where is she?”

“Back at the house, sleeping.” Sy told him, his shoulders stiff. “She gets tired a lot with the baby.”

“Hm.” Davis huffed and turned on his heels.

“What's your problem?” Sy barked after him, unable to hold his temper any longer. “She just wants her grandfather, the man that raised her, back in her life, in her child's life. Not your money or your business, just your love and affection.”

Davis spun around on his heels to face Sy. “I might have raised her, because my Daisy died, and her father was an unreliable scum, but she's making the same mistake her mother did. I won't be part of that again.”

“I won't be there when it kills her too.” He hissed, then stormed off.

Lily woke up to Sy's angry pacing at the foot of the bed and cursing under his breath, and sat up, rubbing at her eyes. “What's wrong, Bear?” She asked, frowning at him.

“Your grandfather is a pigheaded, son of a bitch.”

Her mouth fell open for a moment, then her brows drew together and her eyes narrowed. “Did the two of you get into an argument?”

“Sorta.” He huffed back.

“For the love of Jesus, Austin.” Lily barked at him, pressing her hands to her face. “Why?”

“I didn't go lookin' for it, Lily.” He retorted, stopping his pacing. “I was just checking out the orchards and ran into him. One thing came to another, I asked him what his problem was, all you want is his love and affection back, not his damned money or his orchard, and his reply was you're making the same mistake your mother made and you'll end up dying because of it too.”

“Which you will fucking not!” He added, a panicked fright breaking through his burst of anger.

“Of course, I'm not going too, Bear.”

Lily sighed, shaking her head and running her hand through her hair, before getting up out of bed. “I'll be more than all right. We have a great doctor and an amazing hospital back home. Plus, I have you to take care of and look after me, the whole time. I'll be perfectly safe and sound.” She told him, hugging her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to his chest.

“Don't listen to him, Sy. He's just a grumpy old man, set in his ways.”

“What's that make me?” He asked, half jokingly.

“My boyfriend and Papa Bear.” She giggled, tilting her head back to look up at him.

“Good to know, Mama Bear.” He teased back, dipping his head to kiss her. “The fuck was that?” He asked as two loud dinging sounds filled the house.

“That is the lunch bell.” Lily replied, pulling away from him. “One ding is breakfast, two is lunch and three is dinner.” She explained to him, finding her shoes and slipping them back on. “Old Virginian hospitality, Syverson. I know you Texans aren't used to it.”

“Oh, you posh and polished Southerners.” He teased back, following her downstairs. “Give me the ringing of a triangle any day and this cowboy will know the way to the dinner table.”

“Remind me to buy one for our house, then.” Lily giggled, showing him into the family dinning room.

“Buy what for your house?” Violet asked, already seated at one end of the table.

“Oh, Sy was making fun of us for being—what did you call it?” She asked, looking at him as he vigorously shook his head at her. “Ah yes, posh and polished Southerners, for having a meal bell.” You grinned at him, impishly. “While, pointing out the Texas Cowboy in him could only find his way home, if he heard the call of a triangle bell.”

“I said, I would be able to find my way to the table. I know my way home, thank you very much.” He spoke up, his cheeks pink underneath the hairs of his beard.

Both Lily and Violet's laughter filled the dining room, but Sy soon joined them. But, the laughter died down as Davis entered the room, taking his place at the other end of the table, practically sucking the air out of the room as he took his seat.

“How is the south orchard doing?” Violet asked, as lunch was being served.

“One of the original York apple trees is starting to fail for some reason.” Davis replied, picking up the salt shaker. “Mac and I were running through a list of things we can do to save it.” He explained, paying closer attention to his food than to the others at the table with him.

“This looks really good.” Sy commented, licking his lips at his plate.

“It's one of Lily's favorites.” Violet smiled at him. “Creamy Shrimp pasta.”

“I used to try and bribe Clara into making it for every meal once for a whole summer.” Lily chuckled, twirling the angel hair pasta around her fork. “Never worked out.”

“Didn't deter you from trying though.” Violet chuckled, smiling fondly at her granddaughter. “I'm more than sure you'll love what Clara is making you for dinner.”

“I have no doubt.” She smiled back.

“Oh, Mr. Syverson, if you'd like a place to park your truck, I'm sure Davis could show you where the garage is.” Violet said, her eyes on her husband.

“Thank you, Ms. Violet.” Sy replied, smiling at her. “And, please, call me Sy or Austin, whichever you might prefer.” He told her, a bit shyly.

“Austin, it is.” Violet answered, giving him a sweet smile. “But, you can do that for him, can't you?” She said, lifting a brow at her husband, with an expression that dared him to object to her request.

Davis stared at his wife, his hard brown eyes holding Violet's stern blues, before his shoulders dropped slightly. “I'll show you after lunch.”

“Thank you.” Sy replied, stiffly.

Lily rested her hand on Sy's thigh, gently squeezing it, trying to keep him calm and relaxed. “How have the orchards been?” Lily asked her grandfather, trying to open any sort of connection with him. “I know picking season is coming up soon in the next few months.” She pointed out, gathering up a forkful of her shrimp pasta.

There was a long silence at the table, each second made Lily's heart clench tighter, fearing her grandfather would just continue to ignore her and pretend she didn't exist. She didn't know how much more of his coldness she could take, before it became too much to bear and she would just want to leave again.

No matter how much it would hurt.

“Other than the York tree showing signs of white rot, the orchards are as productive and fruitful as ever.” He finally spoke.

“What happens if you don't cure the white rot?” Lily frowned, concerned for the tree.

“We lose the tree.” Davis sighed, resting back in his chair and tossing his napkin onto the table beside his plate. “It'll only be the third originally planted tree on the farm we've ever lost. Well, with any luck the rot won't spread and it won't hit us too hard.” He explained, looking at her.

“Just because you lost one, don't mean you'll lose more.” Lily replied, holding his gaze.

Davis dropped his eyes and nodded his head, sighing, then looked up at Sy, noticing his empty plate. “You done?”

“I am.” Sy nodded, wiping his mouth.

“Come on, and I'll show you where the garage is and you can park your truck.” He said, standing up, leaving his half eaten lunch on the table.

“I'll be right back.” Sy whispered to Lily, kissing her cheek and stood, following her grandfather out of the house.

The walk from the house was silent as they stepped off the paved driveway and onto a pea gravel lane that led a little ways away from the house, through a small grove of very ancient looking weeping willows to a large building with several vehicles parked outside of it.

“You can park it here.” Davis said, motioning to the area in front of them.

“Thanks.” Sy nodded to him, then turned back to get his truck.

Bringing his truck around and finding a place to park it, Sy got out and and grabbed their duffel bag out of the back and locked up, heading back up to the house; when Davis stopped in his tracks, noticing the duffel bag slung over his shoulder; the worn military green and the faded, black U.S letters.

“Something the matter?” Sy frowned, turning back to him.

“That's a military bag.” Davis replied.

“Yes, it is.” He nodded, shifting it on his shoulder and tilting his head at the other man.

“It's yours?”

Sy's shoulders slumped and he stared at the old man. “I served more than ten years in the U.S Army as a Captain in the Special Forces.” He explained to him. “I retired almost a year ago.”

“How did you and Lily meet?”

“As I said, I retired almost a year ago and I returned home to Austin, Texas.” Sy replied, sighing. “Even though I could live quite well on my retirement, I don't like not having a job or being idle. So, I went about applying for jobs, mostly jobs I could do with my hands, construction jobs and such. A construction company told me about a contract that they had gotten from a young lady, who needed help fixing her place up in Celina, which is about three hours south of Austin. I called about it and got the job. I'm sure you guessed, it was Lily.” He smirked, chuckling to himself.

“I started fixing the place up for her and we grew close, especially after we helped each other through a few traumatic things.”

“Like, what?”

“I have pretty severe PTSD from my time in deployment and Lily's gotten me through more than one episode.” Sy smirked, blushing slightly and toeing the ground with the tip of his boot. “She's the guiding light to holding them back.” He whispered softly. “As for her, she's been through a lot in the last five years, especially the fear and turmoil caused by Jak.” He said. “There's nothing on this planet, there hasn't been anything on this planet, I wouldn't do to ensure her happiness and safety.”

Sy looked Davis dead in the eyes, a deep seriousness coming over him, even though he had a knot in his stomach. “Listen, your granddaughter isn't a little girl anymore. She's a grown woman, and a beautiful, loving and intelligent one, at that. She's so incredibly caring for the people around her, even when she's been so hurt and her trust in people has been cut deeply. Her work ethic is admirable, she built a company from the reclusion of her own home, that she hadn't left in more than three years, and it is thriving. She's even currently in the process of interviewing people to fill two positions, because she has so many clients, that she's in need of the extra help.”

“You're projecting the fear of your daughter’s mistakes and death on Lily and it isn't fair to her, or to you and your wife.”

“My Daisy Mae's misfortunes aren't the only failures that have me disappointed in the situation.” Davis said, rolling his jaw at Sy.

Sy huffed at him, biting his lip and nodding his head at him. “You think I'd be some, what was it, unreliable scum, like her father?” He asked, lifting a brow at him.

Davis sighed back at him, scrubbing a palm over his wrinkled forehead and lifted a brow at him. “Come with me.” He said, motioning him back towards the house.

Pressing his lips together, Sy followed him back up to the house and into Davis's private study, setting the duffel bag down by the door as Davis closed it behind him. Davis motioned to a leather and mahogany upholstered chair in front of a cold fireplace, then moved over to a small table of bottles and glasses, pouring them both a drink. He handed Sy a glass and took the seat across from him, taking a long sip.

“Smooth stuff.” Sy commented, licking his lips and admiring the rich, amber liquid.

“Maker's Mark, Kentucky bourbon whiskey.” Davis replied, smirking at his glass, appreciatively.

“Anyhow.” He cleared his throat, balancing his glass on the arm of his chair. “Palmer Hughes. He came to work here in the summer of 1985, he was twenty years old and Daisy was eighteen. I knew the boy was trouble the moment I set eyes on him and knew I should have sent him picking.”

“But, for whatever reason, and against my better judgment, I didn't.”

“He took an instant liking to our Daisy, who was ordinarily a good mannered, well behaved and proper girl. But, as soon as he set his eyes on her, he started corrupting her. He would stop coming to work in the fields to sneak himself and her off the property and go into town or wherever it was they would go to. Daisy started to become more defiant and rebellious. One of our church elders even spotted her and Palmer with a group of their lowlife friends in a questionable area of town, getting high, smoking and drinking.”

“It was such an embarrassment.” He sighed, taking a deep gulp of his drink. “When Daisy was twenty-one, she came to her mother and I and told us she was pregnant. Palmer had split the moment he found out about it. But, I tracked his no good ass down and dragged him back. He and Daisy got married just before Lily was born.”

“What happened?” Sy asked, frowning at him, the burn of the alcohol melting through the knot in his stomach as he thought about it. “How did her mother die?”

“She developed a hemorrhage that the doctor's couldn't get under control, so she ended up bleeding to death.” Davis explained, growing pale at the memory of the doctor's telling him and his wife the news of their daughter’s death, their only child. “For his part, Palmer did seem distraught over her death. But, he blamed Lily for it. So, he spent the rest of her life coming in and out of it, before Violet and I finally just adopted her and permanently took care of her.”

“It was Violet and I that ended up naming Lily, as well. Daisy hadn't picked one, that we were aware of, and Palmer wasn't being cooperative with anyone, us or the hospital staff.”

“Where is her father now?”

Davis sighed and carefully regarded Sy for a long moment, before replying. “He died, some years ago.”

Sy blinked at him, shocked. “You never told Lily this.”

“No.” He shook his head, guilty. “Vi and I thought it would be best that we didn't.”

“That's not really for either of you to decide.” Sy frowned at him, annoyed. “Lily deserves the truth.”

“I know she does.” Davis agreed. “I'll tell her, one day. As for you, Austin.” He met Sy's eyes. “I've unjustly projected my prejudices of Palmer onto you. You are, not even an ounce, the man he was. You are a man I wish my own daughter would have met and fallen in love with. But, I am glad my granddaughter met, fallen in love with and is having my great-grandbaby with you.”

“Thank you.” Sy answered, taking his compliment and finished off his drink.

[greenshirtimagines]

Tamaki x Painter!Reader

A/n: I absolutely suck when it comes to art but I got this idea and couldn’t stop myself. I also imagine the painting to be like something you would see in Red Swan (the 1st op for Aot s3)

Fem!Reader

(Masterlist)

Word Count: 1.4k

“I love you.”

Three short words that held a world of significance.

And you were dying to say them.

Tamaki and you had known each other since middle school, and had started dating almost half a year ago. But despite your history together, and the endless support from Mirio and Nejire, you were too shy to admit how much you really cared for him.

Even if you had loved him for years.

You glanced over at Tamaki, once again wondering how he would react to your confession.

The two of you were currently having a picnic at the park near UA together, Mirio and Nejire having suddenly bailed at the meeting time, offering up random excuses that made no sense when put together.

It shouldn’t have been awkward in the slightest, after all, before you were a couple you had been friends.

But you felt tense as you couldn’t think of anything but those three words, wondering when would be the appropriate time to say it and fearing the outcome.

“Huh?” Tamaki’s little utter of surprise broke you from your thoughts.

You looked questioningly over at him, only to see a small purple butterfly landing on his finger. He looked at it in wonder, a small smile growing on his face as he lifted his hand closer to his face, his eyes tracing over every line and pattern on its wings.

‘Woah…’

It was magnificent. Not just the butterfly, but Tamaki.

The gentle rays of the sun shined down upon him, giving him a mesmerizing glow as he smiled down at the butterfly.

‘I love you.’

The words were at the tip of your tongue.

‘I love you.’

Why couldn’t you just say it?

“I-”

“Oh, it flew away,” Tamaki sighed, looking after it as it flew towards a flower.

“Oh.”

Tamaki turned to you, and noticed your disappointed face.

“Hey, is everything okay?” He asked, becoming concerned.

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine,” you said, forcing a laugh. “You just looked pretty cute,” you teased.

“Huh? Ohh, b-bunny, d-don’t say that,” he stammered, looking away in a sad attempt to hide his blushing face.

You chuckled a little, feeling a little less awkward. You did like teasing him from time to time.

If only... you could tell him your deepest feelings.

**

A blank canvas. So many possibilities.

You sat in front of your easel, pondering what to put on the white canvas before you. Whenever you felt confused with life, you felt that painting could always help you. Maybe it didn’t always present an answer, but at the very least, it helped you calm down and think.

But every time you put your brush up to the canvas, you stopped, the image of Tamaki at the park flashing before you.

‘That memory is the only thing I want to paint.’

But wouldn’t that be creepy?

You huffed, two parts of your brain debating whether it would be creepy to paint your boyfriend or romantic.

‘Tamaki would have a heart attack if he ever saw it.’

‘But he doesn’t have to see it.’

‘Okay that just makes it sound even creepier!’

‘Okay okay okay, I’m not going to do it!’ You finally thought, deciding to do something else instead.

But before you knew it, you were standing in front of the easel again.

‘Maybe… it won’t be so bad… I can just say it’s for practice…’ you reasoned with yourself.

And so you grabbed your brush and dipped it in paint...

**

“Did I do something wrong? Is she upset with me?”

Recently, you had started spending less and less time with Tamaki, always shooting down his attempts at asking you out with one excuse or another.

“I guess, it was only a matter of time before she got tired of me,” he murmured to himself. “I knew I wouldn’t be a good boyfriend.”

He stopped in front of your dorm room, trying to summon the courage to knock. Mirio and Nejire had both told him to talk to you if it was really bothering him, and although he knew they were right, he didn’t want to. He was scared of what you might say.

He was scared that you would acknowledge his failure as a boyfriend.

But he knew he would have to face the truth sooner or later.

Maybe it was better this was happening before he even got to say I love you.

Reluctantly, he lifted his hand and rapped his knuckles against the door.

“(Y-Y/n)?” He called out, not hearing a thing.

‘I guess she’s not here. I should probably just come again later,’ he thought, happy to have an excuse to avoid confrontation.

‘Unless…’ the voice in the back of his mind whispered, ‘she’s just ignoring you.’

“Ignoring… me?” He said out loud, his heart starting to crack. ‘Maybe she is,’ he thought mournfully. ‘Maybe she feels too guilty to tell me right now that she wants to break up. Maybe she’s hiding in there waiting for me to go away so she can finally feel at peace. Maybe-’

*Crash*

“Huh? (Y/n)? Are you okay?” He yelped, running back to the door.

Again you didn’t respond, and now he was becoming afraid that you were too hurt to say anything. Acting out of pure instinct, he forced the door open, eyes frantically searching for you.

You weren’t there.

Instead, he found your easel in the corner of the room, a canvas resting on it while being covered with a cloth. On a cabinet nearby, an empty jar had tipped over, dropping your paint brushes all over the ground.

‘So it was just her paintbrushes,’ he breathed in relief. ‘I wonder what she’s painting.’

Tamaki had always loved your art. He thought it was so beautiful, almost magical.

Kind of like you.

As he gathered up the paintbrushes from the floor, Tamaki heard a soft thudding noise, and noticed the gray cloth covering the canvas right in front of him. He glanced up, finally seeing what you had painted.

It was him.

He felt his heart skip a beat as he stared at the painting in awe.

‘She painted me? And am I holding a butterfly? Wait… did she paint this after seeing the butterfly land on me at the park? Is this why she’s been avoiding me? Not because she’s mad at me?’ The thought of you not being upset with him lifted a weight from his shoulders, but at the same time, he felt a little confused.

‘Is that really how she sees me?’ He wondered, staring at the way you had portrayed him. ‘Or maybe I just looked that way in the light?’

He couldn’t deny that the painting was beautiful. The way you had painted the golden rays of sunshine basking the viridescent blades of grass in light was breathtaking, and he could tell you had taken special care in painting the delicate violet wings of the butterfly.

But the main focus of the painting was him, smiling in a way he didn’t realize he could.

‘Is that what I look like when I smile?’

With just a few strokes of your brush, you had managed to capture the wonder and warmth Tamaki had felt in that moment, emotion flooding from the painting in waves.

“Tamaki?!”

He jumped, and whirling around, came face to face with a very panic-stricken you.

“Uh, listen, about that painting I, uh… you totally feel creeped out, don’t you?” You asked, crossing your arms and looking away dejectedly.

“No, of course not!” He panicked, not wanting you to get the wrong idea. “I… I don’t know why’d you want to paint me, but I feel honored,” he blushed. “It’s a really beautiful painting. You did a great job. I almost feel like it’s too pretty to be just me.”

“Too pretty to be just you?” You choked, your look of dejection being replaced by one of disbelief. “Tamaki you’re gorgeous. And I mean it. You don’t realize just how handsome you are.”

He turned completely red, starting to tremble slightly.

“B-butterfly don’t-”

“When I saw you holding the butterfly, I knew I had to paint that scene because in that moment, you were the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” you confessed. “It’s only a beautiful painting because I painted beauty itself.”

He stared at you in shock, his brain going numb.

You took a step closer to him.

“That… and… I put all my love into every stroke,” you said shyly.

“All your love?” He repeated, his heart racing as he started understanding the situation. Were you going to say you loved him? Were you going to say the words he’d been dying to hear, and the ones he’d been dying to say?

“Yes, my love, Tamaki,” you smiled. “I love you.”

And in that moment, you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Tamaki may have missed out on a lot of things due to his anxiety, but he wasn’t a fool. He wouldn’t miss out on this moment or your love.

“I love you too, butterfly.”

[binniesthighs]

what you heard | reader x changjin

a/n: hi. its missing changjin hours also now I am addicted to poly r/ship fics so here is what my brain came up with hehe (pic creds to OPs!) 

what you heard | reader x changjin 

Pairing: self insert, hwang hyunjin x gender neutral reader x seo changbin 

Genre: smut w/ fluffy tones 

Tags: poly r/ship, comfort fic, outdoors sex, friends to lovers, discovery of feelings, idiots in love, with a lil bit of comedy, college au, teehee switch!changbin, switch!hyunjin, switch!reader, they’re all kinda fighting for dominance muhaha (its those bestie vibes ahaha), bratty behavior on all sides, jinnie kinda flips a switch when he gets in the mood (hehe pun intended), spitroasing (r), unprotected sex (stay safe!), sex under the stars hehe, penetration and fingering (r), oral (r & m), face fucking, cumshot, cum eating, that good, good makin’ out, soft and intimate body touching hell yeah, fluffy ending

Word count: 6.8k 

Recommended listening: what you heard by Sonder 

If there was something that you and your two bestfriends were the best at, it was getting your heart broken. 

Hopeless romantics you all were, in one way or another. In fact, it would take even more than your set of three hands to count the number of times that the three of you had come over with a broken heart, seeking ice cream, hugs, or plates to break. 

Changbin was the kind to fall in love slowly, but when he did, it consumed him, and everything that he was. He would become convinced that there was no one better for him in the whole world. He would spend sleepless night writing songs and poetry about those who would occupy his mind. Changbin would write love letter after love letter to never send them, or to have them crinkled into papery balls, and slam-dunked into his waste bin. He would often joke that he was ready to love someone, but he just didn’t quite know how to. Under it all, you and Hyunjin knew that he must’ve been scared if they didn’t love him back. 

Hyunjin fell in love with people at the drop of a hat. It was his “fatal flaw” as he liked to to joke about too. The gorgeous blond man would fall in love over hearts scribbled on coffee cups, smiles in passing, and compliments on days when he had caught the bus late. This man was the kind to sing love songs loudly in the shower no matter who heard him, and would often have a new crush by the week. Unlike Changbin, he had no fear when it came to confessing, but had even worse luck getting someone to take his words seriously. Hyunjin had too much love to give, and never received enough back. 

You, on the other hand, delayed love for as long as you could, no matter how much that you would dream of it. Love came to you in the forms of movies and books, fictional characters and song lyrics. You wrote about the love you had to give in countless journals and on the back of sticky-notes that had been used on the front-side. Love was more of an abstract concept to you. It was never something that you could touch but rather dream about. However, while this wasn’t the worst way to view it all, you still thirsted for something more. A hand to hold, a warm body to tangle up in the sheets with you. 

On this day in particular, you and your friends had gathered for a meeting: your “Unofficial Lonely Hearts Club” as you called it. You couldn’t recall who had called the meeting after the long week that you had, but it was likely what each of you had needed. 

These nights would often start the same: the three of you shoved into Changbin’s pickup, windows down, night air in your lungs, some song on the stereo that Changbin had been into these days. The three of you lived in the typical college city nestled into the side of some mountainside--a stark contrast to where you had come from before. It was the kind of place where people went to forget about who they were before to become new people. For some reason, some crazy fraction of the people who moved there, never left. 

First chance you got, you would move the hell out of there: a place full of so much heartbreak and disappointment…who could dare to stay? 

Hyunjin stuck his hand out the window, making little waves with his palm in the wind. You wondered what he had been thinking of that night; if he was sad or if he was happy. After knowing him for nearly four years now, you knew there was nothing in the world that he deserved more than to feel all the warmth that he had conveyed to others. It was a crime that he never got it back. 

Changbin’s free arm held to the handle above the car door frame, and he flexed and relaxed his muscles as he hung his fingers there. You too wondered what thoughts floated on his mind: if he was making up lyrics or if he was putting together some grad story or gesture only for it to never see the light of day. He too deserved all the love the world could offer. 

Changbin’s car sped up the dirt road to the lookout spot where kids would go to get drunk, high, or possibly both. It was a dreary and empty Wednesday evening, and secretly you hoped that no other rambunctious students would be there to shatter bottles on the craggy rocks. His headlights lit the path ahead, and the car bounced on the rough road with dusty orange rocks. The higher you got to the mountainside, the more static-y the stereo would buzz until soon all that was left were broken lyrics. 

There was one spot you liked particularly: it was a ledge that would jut out horizontally, giving a clear view to the whole of the land below: you would see the white lights from the nearby hospital, and the stadium lights from that god-awful football stadium that had sucked up your student loans. Further, you could see river on the edge of the city-line, and how it would ripple in dark blue sparkles under the moonlight. 

Your two best friends would grab the blankets that were habitually kept in the backseat made of scratchy wool, but this only made them warmer. Changbin also kept a couple camping lamps in his car to light up the dark space of his cargo bed. The weight of your bodies would shake the space and make the car bounce a bit on its wheels when the three of you would cuddle up between eachother to take in the scene. 

On nights like tonight, neither of you would say much, but just look out and feel it all. There was a kind of beauty in the simplicity of the way that everything seemed so still up there, or how time had appeared to stop somewhat. If you were lucky, you could hear the hoot of an owl, or some other critter rustling in the bushes. 

Hyunjin was always the one to sit in the middle, and he would take turns resting his head upon your shoulder or Changbin’s sighing deeply into how they would rise and fall. You hugged your knees to yourself and wondered how many more times you would come up here with them, or if after graduation, it would happen at all. It was painful to consider, but you even wondered if they would be in your life at all after everything ended. 

“I’m sick of being lonely.” Hyunjin said into the cold air. He shifted, looking both you and your other friend in the eyes. “Its depressing and exhausting.” 

“What are you talking bout ‘Jin?” Changbin threw his hoodie over his head.

“I mean moping about people who don’t ever feel the same...feeling sad when it doesn’t go my way...I’m sick of it!! I just wanna like, give up!! Would it be so hard for me to just like, stop feeling??” 

“Oh Jinnie...don’t be ridiculous. You can’t just stop falling in love with people. It’s impossible. Not just for you but...” You exhaled out, “...for all of us.” 

“Yeeeah, I don’t think that you have much control over that.” Changbin agreed. 

“No, seriously!! It’s shit!!” 

You wrapped your arms around him lovingly, nuzzling into his shoulder to sooth him, “I know, I know.” 

“Aren’t you guys sick of it?? The three of us must be cursed or something.” 

Changbin laughed out his little trademark chuckle and ruffled up his friends blond locks. “You’re being dramatic again Hyunjin. It’s not that bad.” 

“Psh! Says you who hasn’t gone on a date in months!” 

“Hey!!” 

You flicked both of your friends on the sides of their heads. “Cut it out, will you? We came up here to relax and forget all that stuff, remember?” 

Hyunjin gave out a sign in his exasperation, turning to fiddle with his little Bluetooth speaker that had definitely seen better days. The last crickets of the season chirped in the early fall air, and the little device booted up with the tiny ringtone that you knew well. 

“Anything we want to listen to in particular?” 

“Whatever you feel like Jinnie.” 

The little blue-white light of his phone illuminated his face, and Hyunjin picked a song that you had likely heard dozens of times before. It was from that artist that he had adored to bits, but only really listened to when he was feeling down. 

“Oh Jinnie.” You hushed, then wrapped your arm around his wide shoulder. “No one deserves you.” 

Changbin let his head fall on the other boy’s shoulder too. When the three of you were close like this with your body heat shared between you, it was cozier than anything imaginable. While you and your two friends weren’t the most touchy of people, there were still times when you could huddle up, and it was no secret that it felt safer than anything. 

Hyunjin chuckled a bit, causing his shoulders to shake. “You know what they say in those movies about people who can’t find love after long?” 

“What’s that?” 

“They say, “By the time that we turn thirty, if neither of us have found love, lets just marry eachother.”” 

Changbin scoffed, “And you’re bringing this up why?” 

“Well, I guess it wouldn’t be the most ridiculous idea if the three of us decided to do that, right? Seeing how the current trend is going?” 

You exchanged adoring and teasing glances with Changbin over your adorably naïve friend. 

“I think you’re missing something out of that equation Jin.” 

His doe-eyes widened, “What’s that?” 

“In all of those movies, it was usually two people who made that promise.” 

“Two people, three people, what does it matter? As of right now, its looking like the only people that we’ve got is eachother.” 

Hyunjin stretched out his hands into his sweater paws and made a little squeak when he cracked his back. 

“What do you say?”

“Hm.” Changbin cleared his throat, “So you’re being serious?” 

“What’s so crazy about it?” Convinced as ever, he counted out the points on his fingers, “We could all live together like we’ve always talked about, we’ll never be lonely and have someone to do things with, we don’t have to be second guessing ever, waiting for someone to call us back...we all already know eachother really well so there will be no surprises...” 

“Oh, so you are being serious about it then?” You ruffled his hair up a bit, just to get a rise out of him like it usually would. 

“I mean...it’s not like it would be hard...right?” 

Changbin sucked at his teeth, “Mm. I guess not.” 

“But isn’t a marriage supposed to be like, having kids, being in love, being...partners?” You added. 

Hyunjin stammered with frantic hands, “W-well, we don’t have to do everything!! Marriage is so conventional these days, we don’t have to follow all the rules, especially since there will be the three of us anyway.” 

Changbin sighed, casting his head up to the ocean-blue sky dotted with silvery constellations and the red blinking lights of airplanes overhead. 

“You’re still forgetting something Jinnie.” 

The blond tiled his head. 

“The part about being in love?” 

The tallest boy shied his hair behind his ear, then tucked his chin into one of the blankets. 

“I mean...I know that I love you guys. I wouldn’t mind spending the time...” 

Your chest buzzed with warmth hearing your friend say it for the first time. It previously had been somewhat of an unspoken phrase between the three of you, but now that he had said it out loud, it felt even more real. 

“Awww, I love you too Jinnie.” 

Changbin scoffed once more and picked with the fraying ends of the blanket. “I guess I do too.” 

The cargo bed grew silent while the three of you chewed on the idea. The longer you thought about it, it started to make sense bit by bit. After all, through all the confusion and the broken hearts, ice cream and broken plates, your little group understood each other better than most. When there were tears to dry, each of you knew exactly what to do. You had loved them all along, you always had. 

“I really love you guys...I think.” Hyunjin finally said, and linked his arms with yours and the other man’s. 

“What are you doing getting all cheesy for, huh?” Changbin nudged him with a smirk. 

“I don’t know, I guess I just never really thought about it like that before.” 

“Like what?” 

“Out of all the people that I’ve “loved” I don’t think that I’ve ever loved them like I have with you both.” 

“What do you mean?” Under the swath of blankets, your knee nudged against his, and he jumped a bit from the feeling. 

Both you and Changbin looked at him attentively and how his lip quivered, and soft eyes glistened from the glow of the lanterns. 

“M-maybe all along...I’ve been in love with you?” 

“Like, in love, in love?” 

“I don’t know...maybe?” He rubbed his eyes like he would’ve had they been lured with sleep. “Maybe I’m just, making things up...I don’t know. It’s getting late.” He laughed out with a tentative breath, “I’m saying things that don’t make sense.”  

Changbin looked out at the stretch of city lights as if he was contemplating the idea himself. 

“I guess that it wouldn’t be impossible.” He said blankly. 

“What!?” You tried to look at both of your best friends as seriously as you could. While your heart started racing, it was as if it was against your will. 

“It’s kinda funny,” Changbin began, “The three of us always complain about how love never really comes our way when we’ve already got it...right here.” 

Logically speaking, it made sense. You and your two best friends really did know eachother better than anyone else ever had. When you had met as scared little 1st years without a clue in the world how to be your own people. You had figured it all out together. The ways that you had showed love to each other had been a bit different--but it was still all the same. If you were to have not met them all those years ago, your life would’ve been drastically different. You couldn’t even picture it. 

Perhaps in all of your little rambles in journals and daydreams, was what you were looking for...them?

“Maybe we were just looking in the wrong place?” You offered, and both of them shrugged. 

“It’s possible.” Hyunjin pulled both of your arms closer to him, and rubbed his cheek into the top of your head, then Changbin’s dark curls. He giggled out, tackling the two of you to lay flat on the cargo bed. It crinkled with a plastic sounding thud, then he wrapped his legs up in both of yours the best that he could. 

Under his arm, you choked a little from his tight grasp, but you eventually let yourself mold into the curves of his body and soak up his warmth. The scratchy wool tickled at your cold fingers, and you soon felt Changbin’s hand come searching for you under the blanket too. It was a bit startling at first, but he reached out to hold your arm, then rubbed small circles into it with his thumb where you rested them on Hyunjin’s chest. 

It was as if he was a bit delirious, but Hyunjin chortled with laugher until he had lost his breath, and his lyrical sounding voice bounced off the cavern of the mountain and echoed up into space. 

“Why do I...weirdly...kinda...wanna make out with you guys right now?” 

Changbin pinched his friend with a teasing grin, “You mean it?” 

Hyunjin pouted with his plush pink lips, “I thought we all just agreed that we were in love with eachother??” 

“Jinnie...” You settled your head into the crook of his neck, right by his collarbones. 

“Damn. Glad I’m not the only one.” Changbin bit a smirk into his lip, then propped himself up on his forearm to gain better ground on you and the other man. 

Your fluttering heart beat it’s way up your throat and into your ears, and your two friends looked at you expectantly. 

“O-outside? Right now?” 

“Yeah, I guess. Why not?” Changbin traced his thumb and index under Hyunjin’s smooth jaw. 

“Aha! So you admit that you want to too!!” Hyunjin beamed and tugged at the sleeves of your own hoodie. 

“I-I didn’t say that...” 

Hyunjin leaned over on his side to face you. “Y/n, how about lets make a deal. We try it out, see how it feels, if it feels weird, we stop and pretend it never happened?” 

“I don’t know Jinnie...this seems pretty friendship ending to me.”

“Isn’t that the point?” Changbin said with a sly grin. 

The tallest boy pleaded to you with nearly needy eyes. “I think that it would feel nice? Besides...none of us have really...felt that...in a while.” 

Changbin’s creeping hands came surveying over Hyunjin’s deep green pullover, and the other boy shivered out a little feeling the touch. 

Hyunjin’s own curious hands reached out to hold both sides of your face gingerly with pink fingertips. 

“I know that I’d like to kiss you...if you’ll let me?” 

Both of your friends waited for you as you took turns checking with both of them. The whole prospect was unimaginable, but now...with both of them in front of you, both more real than anything you could have ever thought up, it started to make all the sense in the world. 

“What do you say?” Hyunjin asked with a dreamy air. It was chilly on that early fall evening, so he tucked up the blankets even higher. It was a simple gesture, but still held multitudes of his care. 

“It doesn’t hurt to try...” 

You felt your face pulled closer to his, and all at once his warmth flooded your lips. It was a strange feeling your friend’s lips on yours like this, but while it was new, it was comfortable. Your friend relaxed himself over you, smiling with the corners of his mouth, and slowly sucking at your lower lip like he didn’t want to startle you with anything too fast. His glossy lips stuck with his favored strawberry flavored Chapstick, and you only wanted to taste more. He hummed with a little happy sound, and his larger hands nearly covered your whole face where he helped tilt your head a little so that he could gift deeper kisses to it. 

Beside him, Changbin shook with a sigh watching the two of you, a different kind of passion growing within him seeing the two of the people that he loved most do something like this. He was a bit unsure at first, but he tucked back his friend’s blonde edges to free the skin of his neck, then sucked little kisses there too. He to was careful, and didn’t want to leave marks, but rather feel the way that Hyunjin’s skin dotted with goosebumps from the feeling and then let kitten-sounding whimpers go from the pressure on his neck. 

While the night itself was nearly too cold to bear, the three of your bodies heated instantly, and you nearly felt as if the sweater that kept you warm was even too much. Hyunjin parted his lips slightly to enter your mouth with his tongue, and it was a feeling so indulgent that you tried to hide from your friend how good he could make you feel out of your own embarrassment. 

Your name slithered from his lips to yours, and you tucked your hands under his sweater, finding Changbin’s hands there too on the other boy’s bare skin. Hyunjin flinched from feeling both sets of hands on his muscles. His abs flared from the attention, and he accidentally bit into your lip feeling the cold pads of fingers on him. 

Now that you had one taste of him your body could only crave more. 

Changbin tilted Hyunjin’s gasping and swollen lips to his own where he took his own turn gifting the other boy his affection. Hyunjin pressed his whole chest into the other man in an attempt to get closer and Changbin’s hands splayed across his back to hold him tightly. The two of them giggled a bit as they roughly worked their way around each other’s mouths. Changbin, a little smaller in the other man’s wide and long arms appeared to swim in him, and the two of them melted between the thick fabric of their clothes. 

Once more your hands went journeying up Hyunjin’s shirt, and you ran your fingers over every curve and twist of his back: from the little dimples above his hips, his ribs, his sweeping shoulder blades and each swelling bit of fleshy dorsal muscle you could get your hands on. You had never realized how curious you had been for him in this way, but it delighted you to feel him this close. 

Legs became anxious under the wool blankets, and tangled up with little regard for personal space, and hips writhed asking for attention that had been kept for them for far too long. 

Changbin moved down Hyunjin’s jaw to give him more kisses to his tender neck, sucking harder this time to imprint little purple marks. You had never taken Changbin to be one to do so, but something told you that he was one to take pride in those that he loved, and wanted them to be his only. 

“B-Bin...” Hyunjin’s voice wavered, no longer loud enough to bounce off the rocks surrounding you. 

From the way that Changbin kissed the other boy, you instantly craved for him to do the same for you. Across the width of your gorgeous blond friend, you tossed around Changbin’s dark and curly strands, and soaked up his warmth to your hand cracking from the cold. 

You called out for him too, and found your hips grinding into Hyunjin’s back, becoming more impatient by the moment. The way that both of them touched you, and each other was...different. There was no fear, no heartbreak, no uncertainty or loneliness. When you thought of it later, it was if the three of you could actually heal from it all for the first time. 

Changbin’s eyes softened hearing you beg for him, and he helped you slide closer to him. 

“Hm. You’re so cute.” He muttered before filling your mouth with his own kisses. Changbin appeared to channel everything that he had in him to give to you--it was no surprise considering the romantic that he was. He was attentive and slow; rough at first, but then melting into something much more infatuating. Hyunjin took his turn swiping his hands up and down your thighs, kneading into the skin, and then tucking up your sweater. He shimmied down your body, pressing soft lips into your belly to make you tremble from the pleasant gesture. He made his way up higher, up to your chest where he exposed even more skin to the cold, but was sure to make up for it by keeping the blankets close. 

Changbin swiped his thumb over both of your lips, smiling as he did so. 

“Have I ever told you that you’re really breathtaking?” He said with a tone so sultry it was a bit laughable. 

“I don’t think so?” 

He too took a greedy hand down your chest where Hyunjin nipped lightly, admiring the way that you had looked under the moonlight. He brought his fingers back to your lips, giving you a tiny and accidental taste of his fingertips, then promptly resumed the kisses that you had asked for. 

Hyunjin worked his way back up your body, stopping at last to lap lightly into your neck with tiny fleeting love bites and delighted in the way that he could see them fade onto your skin--almost like you and him were a matching set now.

Changbin broke his lips from yours, creating a tiny wet sound with a thin string of his saliva on your your bottom lip.

Hyunjin played with the elastic of your sweatpants, gasping out a bit once he saw your legs rub together in the absence of friction. His eyes wandered slowly to his other friend who had grinded his hips down into the cargo bed with a quivering length.

“Are we about to do what I think we are?” He asked, both thrilled and shocked.  

“Seems like it.” Changbin said simply after going to caress the other man’s cheek.

“Damn. I was not expecting this night to go like this.” Your voice shook, either from anticipation, or from the cold--you couldn’t quite tell.

“Me neither...but I’m not mad about it.”

“Friendship offically ruined?” Hyunjin said with a mischievous little smile.

The breeze blew through, wrapped up in the smell of the crisp mountain air. Hyunjin’s little speaker played on with his songs that you still knew the names of. There wasn’t too much light, just the glow from the inside of Changbin’s car and his lanterns, but it was just enough to take in your friends fully--the ones that you had cared for so much, you didn’t even known how much you had. While you would’ve been worried about getting caught on that Wednesday night, this mattered little.

“I’d say so.” You answered, and it was exactly what they had wanted to hear.

The three of you opted to keep your tops on to fight off the elements, but under the covers, you each jiggled off pairs of joggers, jeans and sweatpants. The car bounced once more as the three of you readjusted. As soon as bare legs intertwined and the thin fabric of undergarments got thrown into the mix, you each got louder and more desperate for wandering touches that could quell your desires.

With twisted and oversized socks, Hyunjin straddled both sides of Changbin’s head, letting the other man palm the outline of his dick and squeeze at it harshly until he shivered over the smaller man’s frame.

“Damn Jin...” Changbin groaned seeing the other’s length. “You’ve been packing and didn’t feel like sharing?”

“S-shut up.” Hyunjin whined as the other teased him.

You worked bite after bite down Changbin’s torso, sucking lightly, then harder. After long, you found that it tickled him a little--this knowledge you would save for another time.

He wore baggy boxers which hid the full girth of his dick that swelled with his erection that bopped and only appeared to grow larger once you and released him. Thick veins wrapped around his length, and his tip flared where you grabbed him into your palm.

“I could say the same to you, Bin.” You teased your friend.

Hyunjin turned to see for himself, laughing out, seeing the way that it looked in your smaller hand.

“Bin, what the fuck?”

“...Intimidated are you?”

The other boy tossed his head back, hair getting caught in his hoodie. “No...”

Changbin snapped the elastic to Hyunjin’s briefs just because he liked the sound, then pulled the other’s member out to pump at the considerable length with his fist. The blonde boy choked out a gasp at the strong grip, and Changbin dug his fingers around the other’s waist to bring in him closer.

“What me to suck this pretty dick of yours?”

“Do I even need to answer that question?” Hyunjin snarked.

Further down, you worked your own hand around Changbin’s cock which you had lathered at first with your spit. Obscene sounds of the liquid cupped in your hand, then you worked your mouth down to his gloriously thick thighs. Something overtook you then, and all you wanted to to was ravage them, make them all yours, mark them as yours, and make the quiver all because of you.

Your fingernails dug into the fleshy and squishy skin, and Changbin moaned out forcefully feeling the sting.

“Feels good?” You asked with a wicked grin, then returned to sucking bruises into the inner parts of his thighs.

“You’re gonna...gonna distract me.” He sighed out, still jerking the other boy away.

Hyunjin swiped away the other man’s curly bangs so he could see him fully. He guided his length over Changbin’s mouth, teeth clenched with a tight exhale once he felt the warmth of the other’s tongue lapping up the sides of his shaft.

Your teasing was enough, and you finally granted your friend what he wanted. With a girth as wide as he had, it was somewhat of a challenge, but a challenge that you gleefully expected. He had puffed up your cheeks fully, and you could barely take in half is length without it testing the back of your throat. Still, you focused your breath coming out of your nose, and swallowed him down deeper. Your eyes wetted from the simulation to your gag reflex, but you held on for as long as you could. At last, your wish was granted, and his marked up thighs shook just for you.

“Bin...fuck.” The blond shuddered upon coaxing himself fully into his friend’s mouth. He moaned out sinfully feeling the twist of the other man’s tongue.

To give yourself a moment’s pause, you stopped, gasping over your friend’s slit, teasing your tongue around his head, dipping down to the place where he dripped with beads of precum.

Changbin laughed out breathily, swearing easily and calling out your name too with a rasp to his tone. “S-shit...”

“Getting too distracted?” Hyunjin purred, seeing the other man made a wreck by you. “What about me?”

“S-sorry.” Changbin admitted, wetting his lips and taking back Hyunjin’s cock into his hollowed cheeks.

As you swallowed around him, your friend rutted his hips just slightly, his lust overtaking him.

“Oh fuck, just like that, mm--” Hyunjin cooed, getting lost in his own ecstasy with head thrown back, and his sweater paws melting down to Changbin’s quaking chest where he supported himself.

You worked your hand and mouth up and down around the pulsating vein’s of your best friend’s length, lazily letting him feel your flattened tongue, then switching to let him feel the tightness of your throat.

Hyunjin sighed out heavily as looked down at his friend who had taken him so well. It was almost as if he felt cheated from the crappy head that he had been getting in dirty bathrooms and semi-public dressing rooms. It was dangerous in the way that Changbin would stroke him languidly, then let his drool wet his tip.

Further down your hips, the pent up heat from your own sex ached on the cool plastic of the cargo bed, and you grinded your hips down for any simulation you could get. 

The blonde man whimpered out after long, feeling even hazier the longer that Changbin continued on. “Binnie...you’re...feels really--fuck--so, good...”

It was as if the words hand been a trigger for him, but your friend pulled his length for your mouth, panting out like a dog, while also robbing Hyunjin of all feeling.

“Don’t-don’t wanna cum yet...” He laughed out, “I was really fucking close.”

Hyunjin pouted, then turning back and look at you with a bit of your own saliva running down your neck.

“Your turn now.” He nearly whispered, then crawled down the other man’s body to jerk at him lightly.

“Jin! I-I--” He clenched his teeth.

“Lay down, y/n. Is there any way that you want it?”

“A-anything. Anything that you want to do. I-I don’t care.” You begged, falling under his spell.

“Aw. Cute.” He added once he had seen the purple marks on Changbin’s thighs.

You fell back under the two of them, opening yourself up for them to do as they wished. First, Hyunjin crept down your body with as much care as he could--beautiful in the way the he looked close to you like this. 

Hyunjin’s hand cascaded down your chest, then belly, all the way down to your own twitching and wetted sex, and you keened directly into his touch. 

“Wouldn’t you like my fingers? Filling you up...” He asked softly, finally sinking down far enough so that you could feel his words swirl over your exposed arousal, then pressing light kisses into you. “...as deep as you can take it?” 

“Mm-yes.” You squeaked, opening your legs further for him. 

Your other friend settled beside you, tilting your chin nearer to him. Just barely, his lips grazed over you, breathing in your air with his hooded eyes glued to your weakened form under the hands of the other boy. 

“You’re that excited?” Hyunjin mocked, “We’ve barely touched you.” 

“Quit talking and just get to fucking me, got it?” You demanded, mustering all of your strength. 

“Oh-ho! I didn’t take you for one to bite back.”

Changbin bit a proud little smile into your lip, wrapping his arms around you. The blond man then toyed with your entrance, licking his fingers, wetting them, then pushed them slowly into your needy hole. 

“Ahhh, look at that, so fucking tight around my fingers, You want it that bad?” 

His long and lithe digits filled you up where he started to thrust them in and out, using his free hand to push your jolting thighs back. Your right hand traversed it’s way under the blankets which you had readjusted, all the way down to Changbin’s leaking length which still blushed red. You wrapped around him carefully, promising his to lips that you would go easy on him. 

As Hyunjin curled his fingers, the other man then reached down to rub at you fervently, matching the pace at which Hyunjin flicked his wrist. Your hips lurched feeling the combination of each sensation, and you cried out loudly for the two of them--the sound itself bounced off that empty space where the three of you existed, almost as if you were calling out for the whole starry sky to hear you. 

“I-I think that we were really missing out on something...” You joked with an airy breath and both of your friends joined you. 

Changbin’s teeth caught his lip as your hand squeezed and twisted, and you could see with every ounce of restraint that he had, he was holding back. 

“Way to make me want to fuck you sideways, huh?” He said with a little grin, observing the size difference between your hand and his member. 

Your back arched when Hyunjin reached in even deeper, and you dissolved into the pleasure that he brought you--an amazing kind of all-consuming feeling that shattered your will, and sent you mewling out into your other friends mouth. 

“I-I can’t wait anymore,” You begged, clawing right into Hyunjin’s golden trellises. 

Changbin scooched up quickly, taking half of the blankets with him, thankfully giving the other boy a nod when he let him be the one to use your entrance. With his brutish hands, he flipped you to your stomach, and hiked up your hips too, cold fingers holding them in place. Hyunjin kneeled permitting you access to his cock which as softened slightly, so he pumped himself back into place with his eyes holding yours. 

At first, Changbin teased you with his tip, adding pressure to your twitching hole, then guided himself in bit...by bit. 

The blonde tapped his dick to your lips, holding firmly the back of your neck as you took him in and choked out at the way that the other stretched your walls. Changbin grabbed at your ass in handfuls starting slowly, grinding his hips in little circles to simulate you deeper. 

“Hm. Who would have known that your pretty little hole would be so perfect for me? Guess we really were missing out on something.” 

Hyunjin growled lowly feeling his cock slide down to the back of your throat, brows crossed, and the bottom of his hoodie resting just above his hips. 

“Squeeze my leg if it becomes too much, okay? ...I’m gonna fuck your mouth, okay?” 

You nodded best you could, and he started to thrust carefully, every few seconds you would hold his member to drag it against the sides of your cheeks, causing him to huff out loudly at the fleshy bits of your mouth. 

Changbin quickened his pace, doubling over your back as he lost himself in you, grunting out in his rhythm. From both sides, your best friends used you, resorting to something much more feral as they edged themselves closer. From the motions, the car rocked back and fourth like a bed and it’s headboard. 

You too felt the tension build deeply in your core, and it begged with reckless abandon at your dizzy mind that drew itself closer and closer into the feeling of being utterly all theirs. 

In many ways, you guessed that you always had been--while it had been unspoken at the time. Now, having the two of them wholly like this under the silver sheen of the moon, the cold biting at your skin, then furiously met with your heat, you could no longer see them as the two broken souls whom you had bonded with at first. They were now everything, everything that you had wished and hoped for.

Even now that you had become much more to each other, there was nothing that could take away the closeness that you had shared with them. 

“F-fuck--gonna cum--” Changbin announced while he pounded frantically. The other man rolled his hips into your mouth quicker too, seeking the same kind of release. 

“Y/n?” He said with a broken breath, and you muffled out a moan to let him know that you were nearly there too. 

“Oh shit, oh shit--” 

Changbin grunted out, with a bit of panic to his voice, forcefully removed himself from you seconds before he spilled his white seed onto your hole, then sending it dripping down your leg. 

“Oh fuck--s-sorry--” He gasped out, still jerking his cock while he pulsed. 

“Bin!! What the fuck??” Hyunjin yelled out, his words quickly turned into mumbles of nonsense when you took him down as deeply as you could manage without gagging, focusing only on him even though your sex ached feeling so empty.  

When he had come down after a few moments, Changbin took to fucking your walls once more with his thick fingers, not even caring that he had fucked his white warmth back into you at the same time. Meanwhile, he returned to rubbing of your sensitive flesh, trying to replace the feeling he had robbed you of. 

“Cum for me baby, cum for me.” 

On cue, you came in waves, shuddering over Changbin’s fingers slicked with his cum, just as your other friend released down your throat and the warm liquid painted your tongue. 

His blissful moans turned into light chuckles as he milked himself into your mouth, giving you every last drop. Changbin drove you further, overstimulating you to the point where your knees nearly gave out, and you had to beg him to slow. 

After each of your bodies collapsed weakly to the bed of blankets and rejected clothing, you drew the covers back up over yourselves, feeling the cold seep in once more. Both of your friends kissed perfect adoring kisses into your raw lips, tasting the both of themselves on your skin. While your thighs still stuck with your friend’s cum, it didn’t matter as much now that you had huddled up cozily into their arms. 

“Bin, you asshole!!” Hyunjin jested, and flicked the other boy’s forehead. “You fucking finished before you were supposed to!!” 

“What the hell was I supposed to do?? I’d already edged myself enough!!” 

“You could’ve tried!!” 

“Whatever, it felt fucking amazing, don’t blame me.” He added with a smug smirk, “You felt fucking amazing, y/n.” 

“Did it feel good for you too, y/n?” Hyunjin gingerly asked, falling right back to his soft and adorable composure that you knew well. 

“Like Bin said, it was fucking amazing.” 

“So we all agree then? We won’t forget that this happened?”

You gave Hyunjin a little nod to say yes, and your group of three hugged eachother even closer. You hadn’t noticed it, but at some point, Hyunjin’s music had turned off. 

“So, this means that we’re like, a thing now?” Changbin asked, playing with the drawstring to your hoodie. 

You peppered Hyunjin’s forehead with a tiny kiss. “I’d like to be.” 

He nuzzled into the crook of your neck and reached out for Changbin across the expanse. “Me too.” 

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses!

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @eunaeiekim @lunarskzzz

[let-them-read-fics]

Empress of the Heart (Pt. 2)

Synopsis / Request: “Reader is an actress, and she meets Jennie at an event. They have a one night stand afterward, and months later they meet again.”

Pairing: Jennie x Fem!Actress!Reader

Warnings / Misc: Smut (only in Pt. 1), Angst, Fluff

Here’s the second half of the request for you lovely peeps! Enjoy :)

Part 1

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

◇◇◇◇◇

"Y/N, more people are arriving and management wants us to greet them. Something about photo ops." Jackson, your fellow lead, says as he pokes his head into your dressing room. His entrance intruded on your thoughts of the beautiful brunette that effectively stole your heart away within a night, leaving you completely at her mercy despite being worlds away.  

"Alright, just give me a second." He nods and goes to stand outside your door -- you're expected to be seen together for a good portion of the night. Thankfully, though, Jackson is a good guy; he cares a lot about you, always doing everything in his power to keep you happy. The feeling is mutual; it's nice to have someone in your corner in an industry as unforgiving as this one. 

"Ready?" You ask, opening the door after you've checked yourself in the mirror and smoothed down any unruly hairs or clothing. Looking presentable is a must tonight -- you can't appear as wistful as you've been feeling lately. 

"Sure am." His answer is a bit unnecessary, seeing as how you asked a rhetorical question, but you send him a smile nonetheless. He offers you an arm, and soon the two of you are walking back towards the entrance of the building. 

--------

Waves of flashing cameras greet you for the second time tonight, now capturing you in your full glammed-out look. The first time had been a few hours ago when your team arrived to begin setting up and get all of you ready. 

The entire cast now stands stretched out in front of the large screen that will air the movie later, your arms around each other as you smile for the cameras. Promotional pictures shine behind you on the screen, serving as a perfect backdrop as they cycle through their predetermined slideshow.

Eventually, you all disperse to greet some guests. 

"Thank you for coming, Mr. Choi. It's wonderful seeing you again." 

"I hope you enjoy our performances, Mrs. Lee. Your support has meant the world to us." 

"Ah, Jeong! How've you been?" 

Countless faces pass by as you work hard to greet everyone, knowing full well your company will be upset if you slack off now. It's everyone's big night, so they obviously can't have their leading lady stopping for even a minute. 

You're almost ready to run to the restroom in order to have a moment to yourself, free of prying eyes and judgemental stares; but what you hear next sends a chill down your spine, an all too familiar ache in your chest. 

It's Jennie. She's laughing that wonderful laugh of hers, taking you back in time to when you first heard it. Her members must've said something really hilarious, because all of them are doubled over, clutching their stomachs with laughter. 

"Hey again," Jackson greets, and for a second you almost want to tell him to leave you alone. You don't, though, knowing you have no right to pull something like that. 

"YG's girl group just got here. Do you want to say hello?" Of course you do. You want to run into Jennie's arms and spin her around, reveling in the way her arms would surely wrap around you in that warm embrace that's so uniquely hers. You want to tell her a stupid joke to make her laugh again, like she had just a few moments ago. You want to talk to her. 

But you don't.

"No, not right now. I'm going to visit with my family, if that's alright with you." 

"Sure, sure." He says considerately, unwrapping his arm from you. You press a friendly kiss to his cheek as a thank you, letting it serve as a goodbye as well. 

"Eomma!" You shout, squeezing through the crowd when you spot her at one of the banquet tables lining the front of the room. The rest of the space is filled with rows of chairs, already set out for when the movie premieres. 

"Ah, baby girl. We're so proud of you." She says, holding you in a tight embrace as tears spill from her eyes. Her arms bring you comfort like no other, and you're beyond grateful to have her here tonight. Some of your friends stand behind her, too, waiting for their turn to say hello. 

Jennie watches you interact with them from across the room, and she feels a pang of sadness run through her. She's not naive to how these things work: your other cast mates had come over to greet her and girls, snapping pictures and even starting meaningful conversations in some cases -- all of that meaning you had been given the opportunity to do the same, but turned it down. Do you not want to see her? Maybe she had misjudged your night together. You are an actress, after all. 

She shakes her head, physically willing the thoughts to go away as she turns her focus to whatever new person was talking to them now. She continues stealing glances in your direction, finding you looking somewhere else every time. She'd give just about anything to have you look at her, if only for a moment. Just a glance, she thinks to herself, praying the universe hears her pleas. They seem to fall on deaf ears, though, because before she knows it the MC is calling all of you onto stage and the guests are directed to their seats. 

"Let's welcome the cast of Empress of the Heart!" The MC says cheerily, tucking his notecard underneath his arm in order to clap along with the audience. "They've spent months working hard for this project, travelling to filming locations in different countries, learning new languages, and facing their fears. We hope all of you thoroughly enjoy their performances. Now, I'll hand it over to our leads." 

You and Jackson bow towards the audience, waving at them politely as they applaud you again. He looks at you, a silent question of if you want to speak first, and you nod. Taking the mic from him, you say, "Firstly, I'd like to thank our incredible cast and crew. They played just as important a role in this movie as Jackson and I, and we're endlessly grateful for their hard work." More cheers ring out at your kind hearted show of appreciation, and you speak up again once they've died down. 

"These past few months have been some of the best of my life, and I owe that to people like you, and my fans. Thank you for taking a chance on me and supporting me. From the bottom of my heart, thank you." You say sincerely, looking into the camera that's recording all of this for exclusive content. When the movie drops for the public in a couple weeks, they'll be able to buy this tape as well and see highlights from the premiere. The thought of your fans watching it from the comfort of their own homes, yelling praises at their screens, makes you smile. 

Jackson takes over now, smoothly transitioning into his own mini speech of thanks. You stop your eyes from meeting the one pair that they so desperately want to, always keeping them trained on other parts of the crowd. If you allow your resolve to crumble, you'll get lost in her all over again and potentially screw up one of the biggest nights of your life. You can't take a risk like that. 

You laugh at something Jackson says, some joke about how you had to face your fear of heights for a scene in the movie, and Jennie takes a deep breath. She's not exactly jealous, but yet that's precisely the feeling that creeps its way into her chest. She knows that you're avoiding her for some reason, but she has no idea why. Did she do something wrong? 

--------

Why, why, did they have to sit Blackpink in the row right behind you? It's karmic, the universe's way of pushing you back to each other, but you don't know how to feel about it all. You can feel her eyes boring into you as each new scene plays, silently begging for you to turn around and talk to her, even if it's impolite to do so in the middle of a movie.

You don't, though, fighting every fiber of your being to keep yourself from giving in. 

Despite the emotions that swirl within her that pay little mind to the number they're doing on her heart, she actually finds herself enjoying parts of the movie. It's bittersweet, seeing you up there, but you command the screen in a way that seems to steal all coherent thoughts from her brain. You're truly skilled, and she gets a kick out of watching you hide behind your hands in embarrassment when your co-stars offer whispered praises.

During one scene in particular, though, Jennie's eyes drop to the floor, her teeth clenched together tightly. Your character just saved Jackson's from certain doom, and the two of you are sharing a long-overdue kiss. The rest of the crowd lets out approving noises at this, but Jennie is comforted by her members' soft smiles and reassuring touches. You feel guilty, for some reason, knowing that anything you were a part of made Jennie so upset. It shouldn't matter, though -- I mean, it's not like you and Jackson are actually together -- but still, it hurts Jennie to see him kiss you and hold you in the ways she wants to. 

The rest of the night carries on much the same, but later on, once you get enough courage to look for Jennie, she's gone. The other girls are too, and a sinking feeling settles in your chest. Gone -- again -- just like all that time ago. Your reasons for staying away from her were legitimate, but they felt nothing of the sort as you glanced around the crowd again. 

The movie ended earlier, already getting good marks and reviews from the critics who came to view it, and now the "afterparty" of sorts was kicking in. You hadn't expected the girls to stay long after the movie, but you'd at least hoped to utter a word to them, if nothing else. A smile would've sufficed. 

Realizing she's really gone, you let out a sad sigh and make your way down the hall, towards the large doors that lead to the balcony. If anything can clear your mind right now, surely it's a chilly breeze. 

You lay an arm against the sturdy railing, leaning on it as you massage your neck. All of the stress you've been put under is showing in the form of painful knots, far too many to get rid of in one go. You sigh, letting your head lull forward and lay against your arm.

"And here I was thinking I wouldn't see you again."

At the utterance, you turn around to find her leaned up against the stone wall of the building with a playful smirk on her lips. She's back to her old self in an instant, but you can sense the undertones of nervousness in her voice. 

The darkness of the night that envelops you two makes her eyes look even more feline -- even more alluring -- and it takes everything in you not to lose your train of thought. 

"Jennie." Her name comes out as a pleased declaration more than anything else, a familiar flutter taking over your heart at the sight of her. It's a warm feeling in your chest, and you never want it to go away. 

You try not to focus on the sensual swaying of her hips or the teasing look in her eye as she pushes herself away from the wall to approach you. 

"I thought you left." You breathe out, remembering how sad you were earlier. 

"Without getting you alone first? How could I?" The implication behind her words gives you pause, causing a blush to begin forming on your cheeks. You curse yourself for being so easy.

"I've missed you like crazy," she confesses, allowing herself to be vulnerable again. Now in front of you, she brushes the back of her fingertips against your cheek as you look into her eyes. 

"I've missed you, too -- more, probably," you say, the declaration sounding like an embarrassed sigh as it leaves your lips. She smiles at that -- her genuine, gummy smile that you've missed so much -- and your heart flutters again. 

She debates on asking the question that sits on the tip of her tongue, waiting to be answered. "Why didn't you greet me before, at the party?" Her voice is small now, insecure, as she avoids your gaze and stills her movements. 

"I-..." you start, finding yourself at a loss for words. Should you tell her how you feel?

"I was afraid you'd throw me off my game. You're pretty distracting, you know?" You reply, nudging her shoulder playfully. A hint of a smile tugs at her cheeks, unsure if it should finish the job and turn into a big one. 

"I thought I did something wrong." She informs.

"Not at all. In fact, you did things a little too right, if you ask me. I can't stay away from you, Jennie." Her heart trips and stumbles over itself in its pursuit of gaining a steady rhythm again, thrown off course by your words. 

Growing brave, she suggests, "Go on a date with me, then. I wanna have more nights like that with you." She whispers that last part, ghosting her fingertips over your skin to awaken the memories. 

"I'd like that," you smile, leaning in to kiss her lips. It's soft and gentle, much like your first one, and your heart hammers in your chest. It seems to forget that you've done this before, choosing instead to subject you to the giddiness you felt that first time with her. 

She pulls back to rest her forehead against yours, settling her arms around your waist, saying, "I've wanted to do that all night." You smile for the millionth time because of her, happy with how things have turned out.

"Do it again, then." 

And she does. 

[razrbladekiss]

Tyrants | Chapter Five - Consolation

WORD COUNT: 5.8k

WARNINGS: Mentions of murder, grief, the aftermath of that death...all that Jazz! Plus a lil moment I’ve been fucking itching to include.

Chibs's breath was stuck in the middle of his throat, jutting thickly the more he thought about Opie cradling Donna's sallow cheeks as she bled out onto the gravel.

It'd cut deep, this one.

So many bodies he had bared witness to over the years. So many lives lost and souls snatched and whatever else right before his undaunted eyes--but nothing really hurt as much as that.

Because he knew what it was like. How it maimed a man. How it felt like his world was hurtling toward the chasms of hell during the moments after arriving at the scene and seeing his wife there. Dead.

Cold and dead and lonely. And completely gone.

Guilt resided, too. It was true tangible remorse for the simple proficiency of; that should've been me.

It happened with Diane--it happened to Chibs's wife, the mother of his kid, and the one true light in his life right after Isla. And it should've been him.

It was brutal, the way it happened tonight. It was fierce and heartless and Chibs knew in a flash that those bullets struck the wrong skull.

He couldn't bear the reverberation anymore, the gutturals from Piney's son who'd just lost his wife for no good reason during a drive-by in their quaint little town. The town that'd swelled wickedly with corruption these last few weeks.

Stahl was at the scene before he left. Looking pensive, actually. She looked guilty.

Chibs's basic instinct had landed the blame at her door--put the blood on her hands--but he kept his mouth shut for fear of what'd happen next. He didn't think that SAMCRO could handle this.

Because this wasn't a product of Mayan or Niner rivalry. He wasn't stupid--he knew that his President had something to do with this.

This was cultivated from the seeds sown by June Stahl, the pips planted so very deeply into the mind of Clay Morrow which forced him to believe that Opie Winston was a rat.

And he wasn't. He'd never sell his club out--no matter the damage, the pain inflicted upon him--and he'd never dream of pinning the fault on his brothers.

But he had to look a little bit closer to home if he wanted those answers. If he wanted to know just who sniped Donna--a completely innocent woman caught in the most ferocious of crossfires--he had to turn to someone that he knew was culpable of such activity.

Chibs's heart ached. It impaired him so very deeply that the only thing he could visualize on the ride back to Jax's house was her face.

Her face that dripped blood. Saturated crimson plagued his thoughts and forced his stomach to churn vociferously. He felt sick now.

He felt sick because Opie had lost his wife, Piney had lost a crucial member of his small family, and her kids had lost their mother. The woman that had worked so tirelessly to provide a life for them, to love and care for them unconditionally no matter what.

Opie was strong, he knew that--but he didn't know if he was strong enough to handle this. This crippling weight, this hurt and the idea of what could've been done differently.

Because so much could've happened to prevent this.

His tongue had become inoculated with bile, acrimonious ire for whoever the fuck was to blame for such unnecessary brutality--and, really, Chibs knew that he didn't have to look much further than Isla's favorite blue-eyed heathen this time.

And that broke his heart because of the pedestal she held that man upon. The pedestal she'd always held him atop, so fucking highly, too.

She knew that he was bad--an inherently bad human being--but he was just Tig. Her buddy. Clay's right hand that, really, he'd always count on. No matter what. And he'd always deliver the king's request, too.

Tig was the one that Isla called when her car broke down on the freeway and she needed to get home in time for Gemma's dinner.

The one she turned to for cheering up because he always knew how to crack a smile and get through to her.

The one that she strangely respected the most. Nobody really recognized what it was about that man that had Isla overjoyed when in his presence, she just was. And that was part of his charm.

But her father was anxious, now. Worried that she would take this news--if it came to light--badly. Because it was going to break her heart, regardless.

It was how she would handle it, which was the true hardship.

"Christ." Chibs's voice struggled to materialize, gesturing to his daughter passed out on Jax's couch. "How long's she been sleepin'?"

Mascara and eyeliner and whatever the fuck else she'd painted onto her face had started to melt away, trails of black and grey faintly running her cheeks.

"'Bout an hour." Gemma responded, sniffling back the putrid emotion she'd so obviously let flood the moments leading up to their arrival.

Jax's stomach was doing backflips at the thought of Isla crying herself to sleep in his living room--after everything that he'd put her through, too.

He feared that this was going to be the tip of the iceberg. That this was going to pulverize her sanity and compromise everything she had sought to fight off these last few days.

And he couldn't help but harbor those same suspicions as her father, either. Jax wanted to keep his mouth shut until he was certain that this was an inside job, but he was teetering toward that conclusion regardless.

It was the only viable explanation.

He, too, worried about what this would do to her. That finding out Tig was the potential culprit and reason why Opie's children were officially motherless.

"How's Ope?" She continued, already knowing the answer but asking anyway. Jax's head shook. "Oh."

"Not good, ma. But he's home now."

"And you're sure of that?"

"Yeah--I followed him back to make sure he got there in one piece. He wanted to leave the second the fuckin' ATF stormed in."

"Oh." Gem repeated herself, running her fingers through Isla's hair as she rested in her lap. "What about Clay? Where'd he get to?"

Chibs took a seat at one of the wooden chairs that'd been positioned around the coffee table, and Jax sank into the couch opposite the girls.

It was pitiful. Darkness enveloped them as Isla slept, innocently resting as the world shattered around her.

She wasn't oblivious to the happenings. She hadn't slept through it all, but she was done. Isla had been distant for days, had been fretting over the unimaginable and Gemma was worried that she was going to make herself sick if she continued the way that she was.

So she twisted her fingers and nails through the flowing waves of golden blonde, and soothed her the same way that she always did.

The same way that she found comfort as a kid.

He sighed. Exhausted. "Dunno. Last I saw he was with Tig."

"Aye." The Scot agreed with a nod, too. Hating the thought of Trager being responsible for something like this.

But it was merely a suspicion that Chibs hoped and prayed would get debunked sooner or later.

"Did he say anything?"

"Nah. He talked a little to Unser--seems to think it was a hit on Ope gone wrong--so, I guess they're gonna be lookin' into the Niners."

"Aye." Chibs spoke again, gesturing to Isla. "Did she say much when we left?"

"Not really--she just busied herself and cleaned up with Wendy. Seems like they're getting along now."

Jax smiled a bit, happy that his best friend and the mother of his child were starting to accept the presence of one another in Abel's life.

Truly, that's all he really wanted. That and his mother finally being able to turn the other cheek, and quit castigating his kid's mom.

"Did Clay leave before you?" Gemma asked, antsy. She was itching to get home, itching to see and comfort her husband because she knew that he was going to be fretting over this.

"I told you, the last I saw, he was with Tig. Dunno if he left after us, or if he's still there."

She looked away, smoothing her thumb over Isla's cheek.

"He'll be home soon--I should take off."

"Not on your own." Jax upheld, simply terrified of what could've happened to his mother had she left alone.

As far as Jax wanted her to know, this was bad blood between clubs. This was a hit put out on an innocent bystander because they knew it'd jolt SAMCRO--and it did.

It shook them to the very fucking core, jutting them repeatedly--mere moments away from crumbling and completely disintegrating into Harley Davidson dust.

And he really didn't want to admit that this was the work of his step-father and Alexander Trager. But he feared that was the only viable explanation.

"I'll--eh--I'll take her back." Chibs offered, getting up to ghost a hand over Isla's blushed cheek. "I was gonna take her home with me tonight, but I think she's better off stayin' put."

Jax agreed with a nod, smiling weakly at his mother. Though, she knew it was a coverup. A not-so-brilliant facade and attempt at showing that he was okay during this barbarous time.

"I don't wanna wake her." She mused, pushing strands of hair from her face. "She looks so damn peaceful."

Gemma hadn't a cozy moment with Isla for a while--not since she was recovering from a broken heart four summers ago.

The last time that she turned to Gemma--the same way she would as a child--for that motherly comfort.

"I know." The older man crouched to the ground, tracing faintly along her arm. Isla grumbled, slowly rousing. "C'mon petal, it's gettin' late."

He kept a hand against her, running this thumb over the freckled skin softly. Diane's crucifix caught his eye as she shifted, impairing him that little bit more tonight.

"What time is it?" She asked roughly, feeling a sting in her throat. Isla lifted herself off of Gemma's lap, rubbing at her eyes. "Is it late?"

"It's about one o'clock."

"Shit." Her hiss was sharp, galled that she'd been allowed to rest for so long whilst there was a literal wildfire sweeping its way through the club. "Ope--oh my god--Opie. Is he okay?"

Isla knew the answer. She knew what Jax was about to say before he even opened his mouth, and so tears ensued. Crystalline hues weeped and watered, and he was unsettled.

Unsettled because she was so strong in the face of such tragedy, rarely shedding any tears before an audience.

Unsettled because, up until the Kohn incident, Jax hadn't seen her cry since she was shot in the knee after three Mayans decidedly stormed the T M lot and strived to gun down each and every person on the premises.

He never forgave himself for that, actually. Because those bullets--though completely un-fatal and leaving a simple mark that, really, Isla referred to as her battle scars--should've been for him.

"He went home. To be with the kids." Jax cleared his throat, kneeling in front of her when Chibs got to his feet and gestured for Gemma. "He's--uh--he's in a bad way."

"Understandably." She mumbled. "Any ideas on who did this?"

Your favorite son.

"No. Clay thinks it might've been the Niners--shits been off since they decided to pull their fucking guns on us after the warehouse was raided."

"That was their rationale?"

"I guess so." He added. "It'd make sense. We lost their guns, so we lost a life--"

"But Donna." Isla argued, sitting upright. "Donna was innocent."

"We know that, love, but Laroy was probably under the impression that Ope was the one behind the wheel." Her father spoke over Jax, heeding his uncertainty. "It wasn't meant to be her."

Chibs had to blow his theory out of the water, firstly.

"A life is a life. To them, so long as they've got one of ours--someone close to us--they've succeeded with somethin'--"

"All they've succeeded with is leaving two kids without a fucking mother." Isla spat, throwing away the small blanket that Gemma had draped over her as she stood up. "And you've gotta stop being so fucking insensitive."

Jax stumbled backwards, watching her storm out of the room in her pretty little summer dress. He couldn't surmise whether following behind or leaving the woman to simmer alone, was the best idea.

It was a touchy subject, the loss of a parent. It was prickly and raw and it never ceased to strike Isla's heart. Because she understood.

She understood how much it hurt. The uncertainty of it all. Not knowing what to do next. How life changes more than what anyone ever prepares you for and, really, how nothing is ever the same again.

Isla knew it all too well. She'd been there, done that, and refused to go back. But with Chibs's life, his line of work, she was never granted that security.

And it wasn't particularly the security that she wanted, more so the knowledge of what--god forbid anything--would happen to her father. Because that's what bothered her the most about Diane.

She never knew anything about her mother's passing.

Jax got a pretty tight grip on the concept, too. But it was different with Isla--it was something she never quite grasped.

"A life is a life," Gemma mocked the insensitivity from the baffled Scotsman, shaking her head. "That wasn't just any life, Chibs. That was Opie's woman, the mother of his children, and one of Isla's oldest friends--she was family. She wasn't just a life."

His lips twitched before he exhaled sharply, knowing that she was right.

Knowing that his response was much too unsympathetic and heartless and, really, he was an idiot to forget how upset she got whenever something that pertained to the death of her mother was brought up.

"Your kid is grieving. She's grieving for Ope, for Piney, for Kenny and Ellie--for herself because this--" she gestured to nothing in particular, but he understood, "--is something she knows all too well, ain't it? Diane?"

"I know." Tersely, he responded. He pulled a hand through his hair. "I fuckin' know how she feels, but I didn't think she'd storm out when I said it!"

"Well, she's always been unpredictable."

"I know." His riposte was braided with anger, pure fury.

"Then why'd you say it?" Gemma jabbed. "Isla has been about six thousand miles away from us these last few days, and you thought that saying such a stupid thing wouldn't tip her over the edge?"

She was defensive of the blonde--always had been.

And Jax was sick of it.

Sick of the back-and-forth between the two. Sick of that holier than thou bullshit from Gemma--pretending that she wasn't thinking the same fucking thing--and sick of the way Chibs cared more to argue than to go after his daughter.

"Make sure Wendy stays if you two leave--I'm going."

"Where?" Chibs demanded.

But Jax just glared at him, stuffed his hands in both pockets, and walked straight out of the house.

It was cooler, now. The breeze had hit him square in the face the second he stepped over the threshold, and it was nice. To feel a little breeze that'd inevitably take the edge off of the lament sizzling away inside of him, was nice.

It was short lived, though. The second he realized that he couldn't see Isla--that she was completely out of sight--dragged him straight back down to earth, and the panic had set in.

He trusted her, of course he knew that she wasn't going to do anything stupid because she valued her life too much, and she wanted to do great things. So many great things.

But Jax also knew her too well. Well enough to know that the first place she would've thought about storming toward was the Clubhouse--the place that she'd find Tig.

And under any other circumstances, he wouldn't have rushed to get to her before she had a chance to get to T M. But the possibility of walking in and discerning Trager's inconsolable fury--his resentment and self-loathing--was much too great a risk for Jax to take.

He had to intercept.

He had to save her before she got the chance to set foot onto the property.

But, realistically, Jax was more than aware that Isla was probably already halfway there by now, and weaving through the unusual bustle of traffic in his small town just wasn't worth it.

"Shit." He growled, hopping onto his bike regardless. Saving a sliver of hope that he'd find her tonight.

He wasn't exactly optimistic, though. Because she'd already stormed four blocks.

Isla wrapped her cardigan tightly around her body--feeling the cold a bit more than what Jax had earlier--and hastily made her way downtown.

Surprisingly enough, she didn't fear the short walk toward the garage, but it was chilling. The thought of Donna's killer roaming freely, parading around that neighborhood, was daunting.

But she wasn't scared.

Or, at least, Isla wasn't scared until she heeded the red and blue flashing lights right in the middle of the intersection. The apparent murder scene.

Her heart sank, actually. The organ dropped to her stomach, pulsating slowly--barely--at the sight of Charming PD, CSI, and her. The group scattered, conversing, and speculating.

It was horrible. Sick.

She'd seen this before. She'd seen deaths and murders, and whatever came during the moments following. But she hasn't felt this way before.

The incapacitating throb. The discomfort and grief for such a horrendous--albeit freak--accident. And she wasn't stupid. She was as cognizant as her father and as empathetic as Jax, and she knew just as well as those two that this was not a purposeful attack.

Whether it was a consequence of Mayan or Niner misconduct, it was a wrongful onslaught that was about to cull an entire family. An entire charter.

If it hadn't already, that was.

She choked around the swell in her throat, padding along the sidewalk. She took her time, but she wasn't slow by any means. She had a place to be, and a specific person that she had to see--to talk to because she didn't know how to cope with this.

And it wasn't exactly her place to mourn for Donna. She hadn't been involved with her for some five years and she felt bad about the pair unable to rekindle their friendship. She felt bad about grieving the loss of Opie's wife--about taking the focus away from him.

But it hurt. It hurt so much--it sliced deeply, through flesh and tendon and bone--and she knew that Tig wouldn't judge her for this inveterate sorrow. He wouldn't see her as selfish or stupid for wanting to project her sincerities, her emotions.

Her heels clicked across the yard and she smiled a little bit when she passed Juice and Tig's bikes beside one another, letting her know that she wasn't going to be alone in there.

She was scared now, though. Because she hadn't talked about this yet. Hadn't talked about how she felt and how she was going to approach Opie the next time she saw him.

"Juice?" Isla squeaked from the doorway, waiting for him to turn around and run to her, or something. But he didn't move, didn't lift his head.

It was dreary inside. The lights had been dimmed, the men surrounding the tables and bar were downtrodden, and Isla felt as though she'd just walked through the gates of hell.

The vibrancy and boisterous nature of SAMCRO had come to a complete standstill, and she was actually yearning for the sleaze that usually enveloped the space.

Her sigh was defeated, forlorn. She sniffed as her nose ran, making her way to the bathroom to go and clean herself up--because she knew that she looked dreadful, and didn't want anybody to really see her that way.

"Is anyone in here?" She asked softly against the locked door, knowing that the answer was yes and that Tig was the occupant--but she persisted, anyway.

The mellifluous rhythm bled through the oak, jolting him still as blood poured from the gash in his head, and shattered glass surrounded his frame and the sink.

He ran his tongue over his bottom lip, glaring monotonously at himself in front of the mirror. Glaring at the fucking monster that was about to welcome Isla into open arms, comforting her because he knew that she'd need it.

"Yeah," He opened up, smiling down at her. "But I'm done, if you wanna--"

"What happened to you?" She put a hand against his chest, pushing him back into the room. Her brow furrowed when he didn't respond. "Tiggy?"

His entire body winced at Isla's soft touch. At the way her pink nails traced over the patch of skin on his chest, uncovered by his shirt--the shirt he was going to burn after tonight.

She gently gripped at his chin, turning his face to the right to get a better look at the incision on his left. Her eyes filled again, lips turned downward.

"Let me clean you up."

"You don't gotta--"

"I do." Isla cut him off, blinking away her tears. "If it doesn't get treated, it might get infected."

Like father, like daughter--always the first person to tend to an injury. She was so loving, so benevolent. Nothing like him, he thought.

Tig watched her maneuver around the tiny bathroom, admiring her desire to patch him up. To care for him and help make him feel better.

Not much would've helped at that moment, but she was trying her best.

"How'd you get over here?" He asked, leaning against the sink.

"I walked--"

"You walked?" Pissed, Tig spat. "Jesus fuck, Isla, you can't walk these parts alone, anymore."

She looked up at him from the spot she was crouched at, sifting through a small first-aid kit in the cabinet. "Who said I was alone?"

"Were you?" His eyes narrowed. She got to her feet, putting the small plastic box beside him, looking his face over a few times.

Her head shook. "Nope. Never alone with these thoughts."

Tig couldn't not chuckle at her response, but he was still worried about her. He didn't worry often--he was too selfish for that--but anything to do with his favorite blonde saw him panic like a madman.

"And the voices, too." She mused, breaking out into a genuine smile the first time all evening. "They always keep me real good company."

"Yeah?" Isla's head bobbed, cupping his chin again. "Me too--me 'n you don't seem to be too different after all, baby."

"Never said that we weren't." She poked her tongue out a little bit, surveying the damage. "Never said that we were the same, either."

"We're not the same." He confirmed, curling his hand around her wrist as she held an alcohol pad above his cut. "We are not the same, Isla."

Her head tilted, trying to discern what he meant. But she couldn't, and it caused an uncomfortable shiver to flicker down her spine.

"This might hurt." She whispered in an attempt to dissipate the small tension, gently running her thumb over his chin.

The other was--alongside her pointer finger--tapping the small antiseptic against the wound. She frowned the more he winced, though Tig's smile and hold on her wrist was still present.

"I like the pain."

"I know you do, Tiger." Isla joked. But she couldn't help wondering how the fuck he managed to do this to himself tonight.

Why he would do this to himself tonight.

"I don't wanna have to stitch your pretty face up," she pursed her lips and got him to hold the cotton in place.

"You think I got a pretty face?"

"The prettiest." Her retort was instantaneous, missing that usual glint of something resembling a joke.

She was serious--she wasn't engaging in that usual banter with him today. She was too run down for it, actually.

"Gonna have to give you a couple of butterfly stitches, if that's okay?" Isla looked up at him, holding out the small bandages with a smile. "It won't hurt. And they'll probably dissolve in, like, a week or so."

"Go for it. I love when you play nurse."

She lightly whacked at his chest, laughing as she got him to sit on the closed toilet lid to get a better reach. He wasn't tall, but neither was she. Isla needed him to lower his height if she wanted to successfully repair him.

The comfort, the aid and assistance had him forgetting about tonight--had her forgetting the real reason for her impromptu arrival to the clubhouse--but not forgetting about the newfound misery that encircled SAMCRO.

"You alright?" He asked when she hadn't made a movement, when her eyes seemed to focus on the shelves above the tank of the toilet. "I can do it myself, if you don't wanna--"

"I wanna." The smile she produced was fake--uncomfortable as tears rolled down perfectly blushed cheeks.

It broke his heart. Everything she was doing and saying--and even feeling because her pain was palpable--was breaking his heart and Tig felt like hell for doing this.

"I'm sorry," she stuck the first stitch to his forehead carefully, getting him to rip off the back of the second because her fingers were too shaky to get a solid grip.

"Don't be." He handed it to her. "It's been a tough night."

Her laugh was humorless, dull. "You can say that again, Tiggy."

"You wanna talk about it?"

"Not really." She sent him an apologetic look, but he got it.

Isla trusted him with her life--for some reason--but she found it hard to open up sometimes. In regards to something this serious, she struggled to get a solid handle on her emotions and how to express them.

He understood her, though. Understood her well enough, her mannerisms and thought processes, and he just wondered if she felt like divulging her pain tonight.

She didn't, though. And Tig didn't particularly mind that. He didn't want to feel that twisted pang of regret, the vehement churn of his stomach whenever she said Donna's name--which she was yet to do, and she probably wouldn't at this point, either.

"I just wanna cry." She stated plainly, not even reluctantly anymore.

Like Gemma, he hadn't seen her cry for a long time. And it wasn't a nice visual, actually.

But he was supportive, and just wanted her to do anything that'd make her feel somewhat better--so he encouraged it.

Isla put everything down, gave his face the once over for the last time, and set herself on the tile with her back to the door.

"You wanna cry? Do it, baby. If it'll help, just do it." He assured, getting to the ground beside her. "I know you don't like doin' it in front of me, but I won't tell anyone, if that's what you want."

"You make me seem like a battle ax." Isla quipped, sniffling. "I don't care if anyone sees me cry--everyone knows that I do. It's just..."

"Showing vulnerability ain't a nice thought. I know."

God. She hated how well he understood her. How he knew what she was going to fucking say. All the time.

Tig wound an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. Instinctively, she rested her head against his shoulder.

"I get it." He stated mindlessly, pushing tousled blonde strands from her forehead. "But y'know you can always trust me, kid. I'll never tell anyone that you feel emotions--"

"I'm literally the most emotional person you all know." Isla protested weakly, hoping he didn't mind the feeling of her tears bleeding through his shirt.

He didn't.

"I just don't really like crying. It's not a true testament to my character--I'm supposed to be the happy one around these parts. The sickeningly optimistic Irish girl--"

"You can still be a crier, too."

"I know." She finally wrapped her arms around his middle as they sat together. "But people just don't take girls seriously when they cry. And I don't want my position here to be compromised, I guess. I don't want my dad, or Gemma, or Clay to think I can't handle being around the club anymore--because I can. And I always will."

"They wouldn't think different of you for that." He promised, rubbing circles over her shoulder the more he felt the navy cotton dampen. "This is a real tough thing, Isla, nobody is gonna chastise you for shedding a tear. They'd probably think different of you if you didn't cry."

"You think?"

He nodded.

"Crying shows that you got empathy and a heart. We all know your heart is bigger than..." Thick eyebrows crumpled together before he let out a little chuckle. "Bigger than Clay's ego. It's huge, your heart."

"Well, it's gotta be. If I wanna love all of you--warts 'n all--my heart has gotta be huge."

"Exactly," he drew out his response, earning a laugh and something reminiscent of an optimistic smile from her.

Trager never saw himself as the kind of man to make a girl smile or laugh after a little pep talk--after or before incredible sex, perhaps, but never as a result of his unusually comforting nature.

But he just had that effect on Isla--something she wasn't able to extrapolate verbally. Something she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to comprehend, either.

"You've just gotta try not to make yourself too vulnerable, that's all, 'cuz people will get used to coddling you. And I know that's now what you want."

"That's what I mean." She frowned, pulling herself away a bit. "I don't wanna be seen as inferior for being able to cry about the things that you, or Gem, or dad, are able to keep a poker face over. I'm just...I'm just thin-skinned sometimes, and I'm yet to be desensitized to this stuff, I guess."

"You're not thin-skinned for crying tonight." He scolded, knowing that she didn't want to elucidate her thoughts about the happening, but he just couldn't help himself.

"Desensitization don't mean shit when you've lost someone you care about--it's always gonna hurt, sweetheart. Always. And there ain't nothing you can do to stop that."

He was the one with misty eyes, now. He was the one trying to bite back tears, trying to conceal the spread of his sadness--the uncomfortable soreness in his chest. In his heart that wasn't anywhere near as big and full as hers.

"You're never gonna grow immune to grief--I promise you'll always feel that. Whether you show it--how you show it--is another thing, though."

"You feel it?"

"Tonight?"

"In general."

She couldn't seem to recall the last time that she saw him cry--if she'd ever seen it, actually. Aside from this moment, of course.

Tears fell to the apples of his cheeks and she, without any reluctance, used the pad of her thumb to brush them away.

And he got it, now. The idea of showing vulnerability being a fucking liability. Because the pity washing over her soft, beautiful features made him feel fragile.

"All the time. All the fuckin' time."

"It really never goes away?"

"No." Tig sniffed harshly, forcing a smile. "But you learn to cope. You learn that it ain't the end of the world and that life just goes on after death."

"Profound." She chuckled once again. "That's some deep, deep shit, Tigger. Almost made me forget about how much I wanna hysterically break down."

"Do it. That'll make me feel better about my injury."

"Your self-inflicted injury." Isla stated knowingly, but she didn't clarify just what she meant.

Because it could've been an array of things, but he liked to think that she was just referring to his little forehead aperture.

"I like it. It makes you look badass." Isla held a hand out to Tig when he pulled himself upward, and she wanted to follow suit.

"Does it make me look hot, too?"

"Absolutely." Again, it wasn't laced in a tease. It was honest, and the small smile she produced was sincere. "Be careful with it, though. Try not to get it wet or anything, because it'll dissolve too soon--"

"I've had them before, y'know?"

"Why is that so hard to believe?" Isla rolled her eyes. "You're a super scary, malicious, calculating guy when you've gotta be. But I know that you're accident prone."

He curled his eyebrow upward. "Scary?"

"Totally. I've seen you hold a gun to a guy's head." A chill impaired her, frightening her. "Shits terrifying, Tig. Remind me to never get on your bad side."

"You couldn't even if you tried."

"You think?" Her qualm was unexpected, almost challenging him as she unlocked the bathroom door and stepped into the hallway. "I think I could."

What's she playing at? She was sobbing two minutes ago.

Oh, I get it. This is her facade--actin' all care free, and shit.

Tig followed behind--every step--as she clicked along the wooden floor of the clubhouse.

"You couldn't. Trust me." He stated lowly, reaching for her hand when she stuttered a little.

Isla noticed her father next time Juice, drinking at the bar with their backs to the duo. She didn't want to see him, right now.

Talking to Chibs would've ignited whatever fucking fire inside of her that'd started to blaze out of control earlier tonight, and she'd worked hard to contain this inferno.

"What you can do, though, is turn your pretty little ass back around, and go get some rest in the dorm. It's been a long night."

She didn't refute, she didn't try to get out of it because she didn't want to. Isla couldn't bear the thought of waltzing past her father, talking to him about her tiny outburst, and resuming as normal.

Because she couldn't do that. Not tonight, anyway.

"Tig?"

"Uh huh." He responded, his eyes glued to the back of Juice's cut as he slammed yet another shot back.

Probably wondering what the fuck had gone down tonight.

"Can you stay with me?" Her retort forced his focus to land on her, and the defenselessness--sheer exposure--in her attitude.

It wasn't the simple fact of wanting to be alone.

She couldn't be alone. Not anymore.

Ringed fingers squeezed her hand reassuringly, guiding her into the back room, holding her close. Because that's what she really, truly wanted.

"'Course I can. Anything for you, Isla."

[marvelmymarvel]

Lonely

Orochimaru x Reader

Synopsis: Time and distance didn’t matter when it came to Orochimaru, but you hated feeling so lonely without him.

Song: ilomilo by Billie Eilish (Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lH1F6m3slrQ)

A/n: Its long, I get that he seems out of character. Idc. I love him. No shame. 

They called you many things. A loser, a weirdo, a traitor... So many names that you lost track of them all, but none of them mattered when it came to him. You personally didn’t understand it yourself, why you left the Leaf Village in search of the man who killed your Hokage. Being apart of the ANBU black ops made the escape 10x more difficult and dangerous, as they now considered you a threat to the village. You knew too much, but none of it mattered.

Only he did.

At first, the pale man was annoyed by your presence and how you kept popping up at every single hideout he moved to. He tried and tried again to get rid of you, even going so far as sicking his ninja on you, instructing them to rough you up and scare you away. But they did much more than that and left you to die outside of yet another hideout you found. They figured that killing you was easier than sending Orochimaru’s stupid warning, so they never told him and continued on with their life. 

It was quiet for a week, but soon enough his henchmen dragged you into yet another secret hideout. He was running out of options and even Kabuto was growing agitated by your constant presence, but something in the air changed that day. The guards threw you down in front of him, your body littered with bruises and cuts. Orochimaru sat up straighter in his chair, taking in the sight of your unconscious and bloody body in the middle of the room. They had done a number on you and something stirred inside of the pale man at the view of your vulnerable body.

The guards looked up at their boss, expecting reassuring praise for their work but all they got was a snarl. “I told you to scare her... Not beat her half to death” Kabuto hissed out as he stomped over towards them angrily, he felt his master's temper flare and he was not about to be the punching bag for an idiotic decision that wasn’t his. The guards sputtered out excuses, claiming that you never listened to their threats, and decided that maybe beating you to death would help everyone out.

‘Death’

The word struck a chord within Orochimaru who was now crouched over your body, hand shakily brushing the blood away from your mouth. He was terrifyingly silent as if he was a bomb with no timer. The three men grew silent while they took in the oddly soft and caring caress. It should have been shocking to see such a sweet action, but it only made the fear grow within the two guards. Kabuto side-eyed them, they didn’t know it but he knew Orochimaru was seconds away from exploding.

“What do you want me to do with them?”

The two guards headshot to Kabuto, mouth gawking as they tried to explain how they were doing Orochimaru a service. They explained and explained how you were a creep, a weirdo, and a threat, they had to get rid of you. Kabuto ignored it but secretly prayed for them to shut up before Orochimaru killed them himself. His patience was growing thinner the more he caressed your bloody skin and hearing how they talked about you only sped up that process, he was 10 seconds away from snapping... But something felt off. 

“Kill them, slowly and painfully. Do the same thing to them as they did to her” 

Their loud pleading soon became a muffled cry as they were hauled out by the other guards standing by. Kabuto stood by the door, observing the way Orochimaru sat down beside you. His hand trailed slowly to your face before a blue light emitted between his skin and yours. Kabuto’s eyebrows furrowed, Orochimaru knew some medical ninjutsu, but he hadn’t used it for years since it drained him.

“Do you need something Kabuto?” 

Kabuto perked up with a sharp inhale, embarrassed that he had been caught staring at the exchange. Orochimaru didn’t seem bothered and instead moved his glowing hand down to your stomach where blood was pooling from a deep wound. “Would you like me to get the medical ninja sir?” silence filled the room but the words hung heavy in the air, it was dangerous to assume that Orochimaru cared but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something changed.

“Yes” Orochimaru’s whisper hit Kabuto’s ears and without another word, he left to go get the medical ninja who could heal you much more than Orochimaru ever could. Leaving Orochimaru with only his thoughts and your limp body-

“Oh tell it again Kabuto!” you exclaimed cutting off the man right as the story was beginning to end. It had been months now since the incident occurred, but you couldn’t get enough of the way the pale man treated your unconscious form. Kabuto rolled his eyes at your hopeless romantic ways but according to Orochimaru, he had to do whatever you wanted. Kabuto opened his mouth again but a heavy sigh falling from your lips stopped him short. 

“What's the matter? I thought you liked the story-”

“If he really cared about me, he would show it.. But he doesn't” Kabuto’s mouth shut at your words, because in all honesty, you were right. The softness that Orochimaru showed you that day was never repeated and you were now treated like everyone else. It wasn’t what you hoped for, but you were able to see Orochimaru once a month... 

Your frown deepened at the thought, coldness spreading within your body as you once again grew lonely. Kabuto was your only friend and even that was a stretch as he was growing quite annoyed with taking care of you. Silence filled the stale air of your room deep inside of the hideout, it was the 5th one this month and each left you disoriented and afraid. It was supposed to be designed this way, so intruders would have a tough time finding their way through it, but you hated it. 

Kabuto knew this, which is why the first couple of days in a new place meant 24-hour surveillance and company in the hopes of breaking you into the new atmosphere. Your feet kicked at the ground below you, lip pulled between your teeth as you fought back tears. It was silly really, an ex ANBU being afraid of a windowless and disorienting place, but you couldn’t help it. “I get it if you think I’m weak... They did too” you whispered out as you swiftly wiped away your falling tears, hoping he wouldn’t see them but knowing he did.

He always did.

Kabuto pursed his lips in response, while he had been taking care of you he had also learned a lot about you. Partly because he was curious, but mainly because Orochimaru asked him to. ‘I want you to learn everything about her, and report it back to me’  Orochimaru would instruct nonchalantly as if there was no sentimental meaning behind his words, but Kabuto knew better. There was something different in the way he said it as if he cared for you. It was a weird way of showing his care, but Kabuto never questioned it and instead asked you questions ranging from ‘what's your favorite color?’ to ‘why did you leave the ANBU?’

And the ANBU question was what made your walls come crashing down. 

“The ANBU simply couldn’t handle a sensitive person like you... Sensitive people aren’t meant for that group” Kabuto stated simply knowing that their hatred for you was pure jealousy. Those in the ANBU were beaten down until there was nothing left but a soldier, it was effective but apparently, you were able to get through it and still smile like an innocent child. Teasing you became a game, and they even tried to see who could make you cry the fastest. That fact shocked Kabuto when he learned about it, but telling Orochimaru was a whole other story. 

He remembered that day. Remembered how Orochimaru halted in place over his experiments, back growing tense as the anger rose within him. That was the same day that Kabuto realized what was going on with his master. He would never dare tell Orochimaru, nor would he ever tell you for fear of backlash, but he could never and would never forget that tense feeling in the air. So protective. So angry. His boss lied when he said he didn’t care for you...

He was in love with you. 

Your nodding brought Kabuto from his memories, sometimes he hated being honest with you as the tears only continued to cascade down your cheeks. He couldn’t fix you, couldn’t heal you... That wasn’t his job and if he tried to do it... Well, he may lose his head.

Fighting the urge to give you a hug, Kabuto instead stood and swiftly walked to the door. “You should get some rest... Traveling always tires you out” his cold tone only seized your heart up more, once again feeling alone in the small room. Sometimes you wished that Kabuto would stay until you fell asleep, but you weren’t a child and he wasn’t your friend. 

“Okay” your whimper made him bite his lip in regret and he was thankful that his back was facing you so that you couldn’t see it. ‘Babies have to cry it out’ he repeated in his head as he exited quickly from your room, leaving you alone as the door closed behind him. He stood there for a second, bouncing on his feet as he prayed for you to calm down without him. You had to learn to self soothe, or you’d never make it here.

Leaning his ear against the door, the soft sound of your sniffling hit his ears but for the first time in the past couple of weeks, he didn’t hear sobbing. Letting out a sigh, he began to walk away from the room and towards the lab where he would soon relay all of the information to Orochimaru. Everything except your crying of course.

He never told him about that...

You let out the sob as you heard his footsteps grow quiet, signaling that Kabuto was gone and you were now alone. The sharp wail that fell from your lips surprised even you, causing your hand to fly over your open mouth to quiet it down. The feeling of loneliness ached within your bones, and coldness seeped into your skin despite the room being muggy. 29 days. It had been 29 days since you last saw Orochimaru. You didn’t know why, but the man soon became your rock and the reason you were breathing.

And you hated it.

Hated how easy you fell for him. Hated how lonely you felt without him. Hated how scared you were when he was out on a mission. You hated it, yet you loved him. The silent sobs that racked your body calmed down as the thought of him soothed your tight chest. Closing your eyes, you lifted your hands and crossed your arms. Your left hand touched your right cheek first and by the time your right touched your left cheek, your anxiety had vanished. It made you sigh out in relief, the action tricking your brain into thinking that your face was being cradled. 

You imagined it was Orochimaru holding you instead, an action he’s done only once, but you never forgot the way he felt or how he smelt. A tear slipped down and your thumb swiped it away automatically, this was becoming a nightly routine of yours. It seemed pathetic, but it was the only way you knew how to self soothe. You laid onto your side, moving one hand under your head while the other continued to caress your jaw soothingly. The bed was cold, but you didn’t mind. Instead, you fell asleep to the thought of Orochimaru holding you, his tight and warm embrace reassuring you that you were safe and sound. 

If only it was real. 

Your body jolted awake but the nightmare still flashed in your head like a neverending movie. The candle had burned out, leaving you in the darkness of a room you didn’t know. Breathing seemed to grow harder as you tried to adjust to the darkness, but it seemed to encapsulate you like a coffin. Standing swiftly, you raced over towards the door, throwing it open in the hopes of meeting a brightly lit hall. 

Your blood ran cold as you peered into the dimly lit hall, the walls and ceiling were carved in a way that made your world tilt around you as your stomach twisted in fear. “Orochimaru” you cried out softly, stumbling into the hallway in the hopes of finding him along the way. The hall was neverending and seemed to grow darker the farther you ran down it. “Orochimaru!” your scream echoed down the hall as you slowed down to catch your breath. 

You urged your heart rate to slow down, but it only raced faster as the torches around you blew out, leaving you in utter darkness. A soft sob fell from your lips before you once again began to run forward. You kept crying out for him as if he’d be able to hear you. As if he would care. Your body crashed into a wall, knocking all of the breath from your body as you tumbled to the floor. Silence filled the space around you, the only sound being your broken sobs as you gripped the floor for dear life. 

The nightmare seemed to come back and you could no longer discern what was real and what was fake. Were you still dreaming? Were the ANBU here to kill you? Did they leave you to die? Did Orochimaru leave you to die? “Oro” you cried out weakly, wincing at just how broken you sounded. Pushing up from your position on the ground, you tried to fight back the feeling that bubbled up in your chest. You had to know if it was real, was this real?

Before you could stop it, you opened your mouth and let out a blood-curdling scream. Your fingers screaming in pain along with you as you gripped the stone below you harder, grounding yourself as your body let out the feelings you’d been holding in for months now. The scream cut off, and you geared up for another one, wanting to chase that freeing feeling of just letting it all out.

“Now now, why are you out of bed?” 

An arm wrapped around your waist and the scream in your throat faded out as the words hit your ears. The previous scream echoed down the hall as his words echoed through your head. The torches were once again illuminated, as if they were never extinguished to begin with. Black hair fell over your shoulder and a familiar smell filled your senses, wrapping you in a bubble of protection. Your head snapped up at the sound of feet and you realized that guards were surrounding you two. 

“Orochimaru” you whispered out, hand trailing down to grasp the hand that was tightly gripping your hip. His arm clenched around your waist at the feeling of your shaky hand, snarling at the way the guards approached you in rage. “You can all leave” Orochimaru growled, eyes snapping to Kabuto who stood in front of them all. “Sir, she left her room without permission-”

“LEAVE” 

You squeaked in surprise, body contracting into his as the men fled from their angry boss. Kabuto stood still, swallowing as he took in the way Orochimaru stared at him. He hadn’t been honest with him, in fact, he never told Orochimaru about your constant crying. But now, he knew everything. The anger grew within Orochimaru’s body as he felt you relax within his embrace, this was all you wanted. “I didn’t want to bother you about it sir” Kabuto stuttered out, hand scratching the base of his neck sheepishly. 

Orochimaru stayed silent, but his body tensed behind you as he began to process it all. You had been crying yourself to sleep every night, and not once did Kabuto tell him. Your e/c eyes met Kabuto’s, and you didn’t blame him for staying silent. “I told him not to tell you” you whispered out as your other hand rose to touch Orochimaru's face behind you. It was clumsy considering you couldn’t see where your hand was, but you smiled as he leaned into it nonetheless.

A couple seconds passed, but you noticed the way the atmosphere shifted from tense to relieved. Without another word, Orochimaru stood and helped you up with him. He was still glaring at Kabuto, knowing that you were lying to save him... But, if you lied to him of all people, then maybe Kabuto meant something to you. Hurt panged in Orochimaru’s chest, a wave of new anger rising within him at the thought of Kabuto spending so much more time with you than he did. “You’re relieved of your duties” Orochimaru muttered, arms tightening around your body in a silent display of dominance. 

Kabuto nodded before turning and walking back to his own quarters, thankful that he only got a threatening glare instead of a torturous death. Orochimaru tried to calm down the rising fear bubbling under his chest at the thought of Kabuto somehow stealing you from him. Your arms tightened around him, head snuggling underneath his chin as euphoria coursed through your veins. The nightmare and worries were now long forgotten as you cuddled deeper into the taller man's body. 

Looking down at you, Orochimaru fought back a smile at the peaceful look on your face. Eyes closed and lips pulled up into a dreamy smile. If he didn’t know it before, he realized it now as he looked down upon you. The painful feeling he got in his chest whenever Kabuto came back with an update. The way his heart sped up at the sight of you. The restless nights he encountered as he worried about your wellbeing. How his mind wandered to you whenever he worked in the lab. 

He hummed at the thought before pulling you deeper into his body, arms tightly wrapped around you like a shield. He loved you, it had been quite a while since he loved someone... “Why were you so persistent? Why did you choose me?” your eyes snapped open at his question, but you refused to look at him as you grew embarrassed. 

“I-I...”

His fingers grasped your chin, craning your neck and forcing you to look at him. His slitted pupils were blown out, yet you weren’t sure if it was because of the dim lighting or something else. “Tell me. I need to hear it” Orochimaru whispered as his face got closer to yours, it wasn’t meant to intimidate you but he couldn’t help but grow a bit giddy at how you recoiled in shame. “When I saw you, I knew that you were my... It's silly” you had managed to move your chin from his grasp, eyes casting downwards as you shook your head at the thought. 

Orochimaru gripped your chin once more, this time a bit harder as he forced you to look back at him. His mouth was inches from yours, and it felt like all of the wind was knocked out of you by how close he was. His breath fanned out onto your face, causing goosebumps to erupt across your skin. He didn’t have to say anything, for the action was enough to reassure you that he didn’t care how silly it was. 

He had to hear it... He had to hear what Kabuto told him long ago.

“I knew you were my soulmate... I know it's crazy and I’ve only told Kabuto but-” You were spun around before you could finish, back crashing into the wall as Orochimaru shoved his lips against yours. It was heavy while he kissed you feverishly as if you were the only thing that could bring his excitement down. You moaned into his mouth, teeth clashing with his in response to the sudden move. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him down for better access while his hands wandered along your body. He wanted to learn and remember every single feature of your body, he had so much to catch up on. 

After what felt like a minute Orochimaru finally pulled back, leaving you a flustered mess below him. One of his hands cradled your cheek, softly caressing the skin with his thumb as he took in the view. Your eyes shut at the feeling, remembering how only hours ago, you wished to feel this exact action. “Can I be honest with you?” you whispered out, eyes still shut in fear of him rejecting your question. When you were met with silence, you decided to continue.

“I don't like being away from you... It scares me” 

The tightened grip on your cheek was the only indicator that he wasn’t upset with you, in fact, it almost felt like he was upset with himself. “Then you shall never leave my side” serenity filled your bones, replacing the loneliness that once laid heavy within them with a lighter, happier feeling. You would never be alone again. 

“C-can I stay with you? In your room I mean... I feel so lonely in my room” he didn’t answer your plea and instead pressed his head against yours, hoping you’d understand that when he said you’d be by his side forever. He meant it. His lips met the tip of your nose, the action leaving you bewildered in his embrace. Orochimaru wasn’t one for ‘soft’ things, that much you had learned in a couple of months being around him. 

Opening your eyes, you were relieved to see that his eyes were closed. A smile formed on your lips as you took in his blissed out face, maybe he was lonely too... Maybe, just maybe he needed you as much as you needed him. That question may never be answered, but it didn’t have to be. Because no one could deny it, he was your soulmate.

And you were his.