#first watch i thought about how he probably saw what grief physically looked like from haruka and amane.

[yo-yo-yoshiko]

Haha, idiot. That's what you get for having human emotions :'((((

And a closer shot on this one cause I LIKE THEM TREES!

[b1xi]

𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙮 𝙛𝙤𝙘𝙪𝙨

Glenn rhee x reader

Word count:4578

Warninig: blood, dead,Alcohol.

Previous Chapter/Next chapter

You didn’t know how long you had been in Glenn’s arms. Your head rested against his shoulder while he, with gentle and repetitive movements, slid a hand down your back, soothing you with each caress. Every now and then, tears would escape from your eyes again, an involuntary release of all the accumulated fear. Alice, who had been crying desperately until recently, now remained silent, curled up between the two of you, her little head resting on your chest. The sky was starting to lighten, the night’s gloom giving way to the first light of dawn. It was probably five in the morning.

Glenn pulled away slightly, though not enough to completely break contact. His fingers still rested on your arm, as if he feared a single movement might cause you to fall apart again. His tired eyes met yours. You could see the deep bags under his eyelids, the fatigue evident in every line of his face. But despite everything, there was constant concern for you in his gaze.

“Everything’s okay,” he said softly, his voice raspy but full of calm. “Let me take you to your tent. You’re exhausted.”

You looked at Alice, her small body still trembling and her eyes shining with exhaustion. You knew you needed rest, but the mere thought of being alone again filled you with indescribable unease. However, when you saw Glenn’s face, you couldn’t help but worry about him too.

“You’re tired too,” you whispered, trying to show a small token of concern, though you had barely any strength left. Glenn gave a small but sincere smile.

“I’m fine. I just want you to feel safe.”

Carefully, he helped you stand, keeping Alice secure in your arms as he walked with you back to your tent. The camp, which moments before had been a chaos of screams and gunfire, now lay under a heavy, painful silence. You could hear the wind moving through the branches of the trees, a sound that, under different circumstances, would have been soothing, but now made you feel more vulnerable.

As you walked, your heart shattered into a thousand pieces when you saw Andrea. She was kneeling on the ground, her face drenched in tears, her body shaking with desperate sobs as she clung to Amy’s pale, lifeless body. The scene was unbearable. You placed a hand over your mouth, trying to hold back the scream threatening to escape. Andrea’s pain was palpable, so real and tangible it seemed to invade the very air around you.

You forced yourself to look away, feeling the weight of someone else’s grief was too much for you in that moment. Glenn noticed it too. Without saying a word, he quickened his pace slightly, guiding your steps towards the safety of your tent. Every step felt like a battle, not just against physical exhaustion, but against the emotional tide threatening to sweep you away.

When you finally reached the entrance of the tent, Glenn lifted the flap for you to enter. He carefully helped you settle onto the makeshift bed. The air inside the tent was warmer, but it didn't calm the coldness you felt deep within. Alice, though calm, was still in your arms, her breathing soft, but your own unease prevented you from relaxing completely.

Glenn knelt in front of you, making sure you were comfortable before speaking. “You need to rest. It’s all over for tonight, you’re safe here.”

You nodded, though words wouldn’t come out. There was something in your expression that Glenn didn’t overlook. Despite being physically safe, your mind was still trapped in the horror of what you had witnessed. Your eyes still showed a deep fear, one you couldn’t hide.

Glenn remained still for a moment, watching you with concern before making a silent decision. He stood up and took a few steps toward the exit of the tent but stopped when he noticed your hands trembling slightly as you held onto Alice.

"I'm not leaving you alone," he said softly, almost tenderly, returning to your side. He sat on the ground beside you, his presence steady but discreet. "I’ll stay here with you, just in case you need something.”

You looked up at him, unable to express in words the relief you felt. You didn’t want to be alone, not after everything that had happened. Glenn, always attentive, seemed to understand that without you having to say anything. He stayed there, by your side, offering his company as an anchor in the middle of the storm that still raged inside you.

As the minutes passed, the rhythm of your breathing began to stabilize. Alice, finally surrendered to exhaustion, had fallen asleep in your arms.

"Did they find Merle?" you asked, your voice hoarse, forcing the words that seemed stuck in your throat.

Glenn, who had been staring at the canvas floor with his hands clasped, looked up at you, his face somber but calm. "No," he responded quietly, though the content of his words was unsettling. "Just… his hand.”

The impact of that answer hit you like a wave of cold, but all you managed to do was nod silently. You wanted to ask more, but you feared the answer. Instead, you followed up with the next question that had been lingering in your mind since you had seen him arrive at camp.

“Why did it take you so long to get back?” You looked at him with curiosity and concern, waiting for an explanation.

Glenn glanced at you for a moment before letting out a sigh. "They stole the truck," he explained, shrugging as if trying to downplay what he was saying. "And then a group of survivors kidnapped me.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion as you stared at him, trying to process his words. “Kidnapped you?” you repeated, incredulous. “And they were good people?”

Glenn, noticing the disbelief in your expression, smiled faintly. “Yeah,” he replied with a small shrug, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. “They were good people.”

A confused laugh escaped your lips despite the tension of the moment. "People kidnap you, but they’re good people?" you asked, still incredulous but relieved. Glenn allowed himself a small smile too, one that brightened his face in a way that comforted you more than you dared admit.

God, you loved that smile.

“Well, yeah,” he responded with a soft laugh. “I guess it sounds strange, but after talking to them... they're not bad, just as desperate as we are.”

“Thank you, Glenn,” you whispered finally, feeling that the words were not enough to express what you truly felt. “For staying... for everything.”

He looked at you gently and nodded, saying nothing more. Your eyes started to grow heavier before you closed them. The tent’s flap opened, and Jacqui peeked in, looking at both of you for a moment before focusing on you. “Y/N, we need your help. It’s Jim.”

Carefully, you stood up from beside Glenn and walked toward where Jim was sitting, leaning against the side of the RV. Every step you took made you more aware of the disaster surrounding you: bodies scattered across the ground, some in advanced stages of decomposition, others just beginning to lose the life they had left.

Jim looked at you with dull eyes, his face marked by fever and exhaustion. His movements were slow, almost clumsy, as he lifted his shirt to show you the wound that condemned him. You crouched to examine it more closely, seeing the unmistakable marks of a bite on his side. The skin around the small wound was already starting to darken, a sign that the infection was spreading quickly.

You knew there was nothing you could do. It wasn’t possible to cut away the infected part, and even if you tried, it wouldn’t change his fate. There was no cure for what was consuming him. The silence between you was heavy, filled with a truth neither of you wanted to speak.

You slowly stood up, saying nothing, and approached the rest of the group that had already gathered in a circle. The tension in the air was palpable; everyone knew what was coming, but no one wanted to be the first to say it out loud.

"Let’s just put a pickaxe through his head and the dead girl's too, get it over with," Daryl said, his voice full of frustration and anger. You knew he wasn’t heartless; there was just no time for sentimentality in this new world. But his words cut like a knife through the silence, causing uncomfortable glances between the others.

Shane huffed, frustrated, taking a step forward, his eyes blazing with disbelief and irritation. "Is that what you’d want if you were in his place?" he asked, his voice sharp as a blade. His words seemed directed at both Daryl and the rest of the group.

Dixon didn’t flinch for a second, his gaze hard and full of conviction. "Yeah," he answered calmly. "And I’d thank you for it." The coldness in his tone only made the tensions in the group rise further. For him, there was no room for doubt when it came to survival.

Rick, still processing everything, searched your eyes. "What do you think, Y/N?" he asked, a mix of desperation and trust in your judgment in his voice, making everyone else turn their faces toward you.

You took a deep breath, crossing your arms over your chest as your lips pressed together, considering the few options. "There’s nothing I can do for him," you began, your voice measured yet firm. "We can’t cut off the infected area, and even if we did, we don’t have the proper medicine to treat him. I’ve seen what this virus does. If you think Jim is going to last more than two days, you’re fooling yourselves."

Rick lowered his head, nodding slowly as he stared at the ground. He knew you were right, but that didn’t make the decision any easier to make.

"I hated to say it... I never thought I’d agree with something like this, but I think Daryl is right," Dale spoke heavily, his gaze sad yet resigned.

"Dale, Jim is not a monster or a rabid dog!" Rick reprimanded, his voice laden with anguish.

"I’m not saying that," Dale replied, looking at the others with concern.

"He’s sick, and if we take that route, where do we draw the line?" Rick raised the question, visibly affected by the idea of having to end the life of one of their own.

"It’s obvious: zero tolerance for walkers," Daryl insisted, and everyone looked at each other, unsure of how to proceed. "Or in the case of potential ones."

"And what if we get him help?" the sheriff suggested. "I heard the CDC is working on a cure."

"So have I, and a lot of other things before everything went to hell. There were a lot of promises made before this," Shane’s tone was pessimistic as he spoke.

You sighed, feeling tired and lost in the conversation. After a moment of discussion, it was decided that they would try to get to the CDC in hopes of finding shelter and medical assistance for Jim. Meanwhile, the group took care of burning the corpses and arranging a small, proper burial for Amy.

As everyone packed their things to leave in the morning and prepared the vehicles, you decided to go with the others in the RV to keep an eye on Jim’s condition. Upon entering, you took a seat next to the bed where he lay, his body covered by a dense layer of sweat that revealed his fever was beginning to rise.

"You’ll be okay," you tried to offer some comfort, though you knew the words sounded empty. Carefully, you dampened a cloth in cool water and gently wiped it across his forehead, feeling how the heat of his skin burned beneath your fingers.

Jim could only nod before closing his eyes again. You leaned back in the chair, resting your arm on a small table beside the bed. Fatigue was starting to set in; you hadn’t slept since the night before. From a distance, you could hear Alice’s light laughter filtering through the curtains.

After a while, Jacqui appeared to take over, allowing you to rest for a moment. You thanked her for the intervention and reclined, though the stress of the situation kept your senses alert.

Eventually, after several setbacks, they arrived at the CDC. The sight that greeted them was nothing short of desolate. Hundreds of walkers and bodies lay strewn outside the facility, and the smell was nearly unbearable.

Quickly, you placed Alice in her carrier, making sure she was snug and comfortable. Then, you wrapped a light blanket around her, shielding her from the stench emanating from outside.

"What the hell...?" the words escaped your lips as you gazed at the place. Your hands instinctively tightened around the loaded weapon you carried with you.

"Listen up. Don’t split up and stay quiet," Rick ordered firmly as the group moved toward the facility. His words seemed to temporarily calm the latent panic in the air, though with each step you took, your body tensed further.

As you walked, you could see several bodies in an advanced state of decomposition. Birds feasted on the rotting flesh that remained, creating a macabre image that churned your stomach. The group began to move faster, avoiding glances at the decomposed bodies that lay as warnings of the fate that awaited them if they failed to find shelter.

Your eyes fixated on the enormous metal doors of the building when they finally stood before them, closed and showing no signs of activity. Was there even anyone inside?

"Nothing?" Shane asked, turning his head toward Rick with a look of distrust as he saw the sealed doors. Meanwhile, the others kept watch around, weapons ready in case a walker got too close.

"Should we go back?" you suggested, your eyes following Rick and Shane as they knocked insistently on the metal door, trying to attract the attention of anyone who might be inside.

"There has to be someone inside," Rick replied with conviction, still clinging to hope.

"Walkers," someone warned from behind, causing a wave of panic to wash over the group. Daryl reacted immediately, releasing an arrow that pierced the head of a nearby walker with precision.

The situation grew tenser as Shane and Rick argued over what to do next. As the walkers approached, the bullets began to fly, and the desperation in the air became palpable.

"The camera moved!" Rick suddenly exclaimed, stopping the steps of those who were already starting to retreat to the vehicles.

"It’s your imagination," some told him, trying to reason with him.

"It moved!" he insisted, refusing to back down. His desperation was palpable as he pounded on the metal doors again, calling to anyone who might be listening on the other side. "I know there’s someone in there; I know you’re listening to us! Please, we’re desperate; we have women and children, we have no food or fuel, we have nowhere to go! Please!" he shouted, his voice cracking under the weight of the plea as Lori tried to push him away, moving him from the doors.

Your heart raced at the intensity of the moment. You stared intently at the metal doors, silently praying for a miracle, but silence persisted.

Just as you turned to follow the others, a metallic screech echoed in the air, and a blinding light erupted from inside the building, catching everyone’s attention and halting their march.

"Daryl, cover us," Shane quickly ordered as the group ventured in with their weapons raised.

"Is anyone in there?" one of the group members called, but the only response was the echo of their voices reverberating in the vast, seemingly empty space.

The sound of a weapon being loaded made everyone turn their heads sharply. A blonde man, shotgun in hand, was watching them from a safe distance. "Is anyone infected?" he asked seriously, keeping his gaze fixed on each of you.

“There was one, it didn’t make it here,” Rick replied, swallowing hard, keeping his weapon steady.

“What do you want?” the man asked, moving slowly closer, not lowering his guard.

“A chance,” Rick answered honestly, his voice reflecting the exhaustion and desperation everyone felt.

“That’s a lot to ask for these days,” the man replied, a slight gesture of skepticism in his demeanor.

“I know,” Rick admitted.

“You will undergo a blood test. That’s the price of admission,” the man announced after a quick glance at the entire group.

“We can do that,” Rick accepted, speaking for everyone.

After returning to the vehicles to gather their belongings, they followed Dr. Jenner to an elevator. Although it was tight, they all managed to fit in, with Glenn insisting on carrying your things so you could better manage Alice, who was starting to squirm in her carrier.

“Do doctors always go around armed like this?” Daryl asked, raising an eyebrow at seeing Dr. Jenner still holding his weapon.

“There were a lot of weapons lying around. I just familiarized myself with what was left,” Jenner replied with a calm smile. “But you all look harmless. Except you, Carl; I have to keep an eye on you,” he joked, playfully directing the comment at the boy in an attempt to ease the tension.

The group remained silent as the elevator descended, immersed in a heavy atmosphere. When it stopped, the doors opened to reveal a long hallway leading deeper into the CDC. Without saying a word, everyone began walking closely behind Dr. Jenner.

“Are we underground?” Carol asked, firmly holding her daughter to her side, her voice betraying some anxiety.

“Does it feel claustrophobic to you?” Jenner replied calmly, not turning to face her.

“A little,” Carol admitted, casting a glance around the narrow corridor.

“Try not to think about it,” Jenner suggested with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Then he raised his voice and gave an order: “Vi, turn on the lights in the room.”

Instantly, the lights came on, revealing a spacious room filled with computers and lab equipment. Murmurs of astonishment were inevitable as everyone surveyed their surroundings.

“Welcome to Zone 5,” Jenner announced, his tone not hiding a certain solemnity.

The surprise deepened when the doctor explained that he was the last one left in the facility. As he described “Vi” as an artificial intelligence assistant, he led them to a room with several chairs lined up and a desk in front of them. On the surface lay a couple of syringes and tubes of EDTA waiting. The time had come for the blood draw.

One by one, the group members took a seat for the procedure. When it was your turn with Alice, you approached cautiously, holding the little one tenderly.

“Please, be careful,” you warned Jenner, your voice firmer than you had intended. Your eyes fixated on the small needle he was holding, and although you trusted his skill, a mother’s anxiety never faded.

Jenner looked up, surprised by your intensity. “I will be,” he replied softly, a hint of respect in his gaze. His hand trembled slightly as he inserted the needle into Alice’s tiny arm, and she let out a sharp cry at the prick.

“Done,” he murmured, withdrawing the needle with the same care and applying a small bandage over the spot. Alice continued to cry, though more softly now, as you cradled her gently, trying to soothe her.

“It’s okay, it’s over,” you said softly, cradling her against your chest as her cries gradually subsided.

It had been a long time since you felt this sense of calm, one that seemed almost impossible in the world they now inhabited. Laughter echoed in the room, creating an unexpectedly warm and relaxed atmosphere as everyone gathered around the table, enjoying the dinner that Jenner had prepared for them.

You brought the glass of wine to your lips, savoring the deep, bitter flavors interwoven with a slight smoky note. You felt the warmth of the alcohol begin to relax you, blurring the tensions that had built up in your muscles. Occasionally, your hand brushed against Glenn’s, a subtle yet intimate gesture that was enough to bring a small spark of comfort amidst the uncertainty. His warm, slightly nervous fingers intertwined with yours for brief moments before releasing, as if the contact were too intense to prolong.

At the table, conversations flowed with an unusual lightness. The emotional fatigue from days of fear and exhaustion seemed to dissolve with each sip of wine and each shared laugh.

“In Italy, kids usually drink a little wine with their meals, and in France, it’s customary too,” Dale commented with a smile, pouring himself another glass while making the remark to Lori, who was watching Carl with a mix of concern and tenderness.

“Well, when Carl goes to France, he can have some,” Lori replied, throwing a sideways glance at her son, a gentle smile creeping onto her lips.

Rick, who had been silent until then, watched the interaction carefully before interjecting. “It won’t hurt him,” he said with a mix of softness and firmness, his voice laden with the intention to soothe Lori’s anxieties. “Come on,” he added, looking at her hesitantly, waiting for her approval.

Lori, after a brief moment of doubt, lifted her hand from Carl’s glass, giving the older man the go-ahead to pour a tiny amount of red wine into the boy’s cup. Carl accepted it with curiosity, but as soon as the liquid touched his palate, he made a clear grimace of disgust, prompting a new wave of laughter around the table.

“That’s the way to do it, champ,” Lori praised him, reclaiming the glass and passing it to her own drink while affectionately stroking her son’s hair.

“Better stick with the soda, buddy,” Shane joked, adding to the conversation with a conspiratorial smile.

However, attention quickly shifted when Daryl, in his usual direct and slightly mocking tone, abruptly interrupted. “Not you, Glenn,” he spat, drawing everyone’s gaze to the young man who, carefree, continued to enjoy a bottle of wine on his own.

“What?” Glenn replied, confused, raising an eyebrow and smiling absentmindedly. It was clear he was in a much more advanced state of intoxication than the others.

Daryl, enjoying the moment, watched him with a half-smile. “Keep drinking; I want to see how red your face gets,” he added, mischief in his tone.

The comment made the group laugh, but it was Carol who, with a playful laugh, made an observation that further fueled the atmosphere. “Then keep Y/N away from him; we don’t know if he’s turning red because of her or the alcohol.”

That sparked a collective burst of laughter that resonated through the room. Your cheeks immediately flushed, feeling the heat rise to your face as embarrassment enveloped you. You knew your expression wasn’t helping, and you could feel the blush spreading rapidly across your skin.

“She’s gone even redder,” Andrea pointed out amid laughter, while you tried to maintain your composure, though your own embarrassed smile betrayed your attempt at serenity.

“I think we haven’t properly thanked our host as he deserves,” Rick said, standing up and drawing everyone’s attention to him. He raised his glass, his eyes scanning the table before addressing Dr. Jenner with gratitude. “For your hospitality, and for giving us a safe place amidst all this.”

“It’s more than just our host,” T-Dog added, his tone a bit drawn out but sincere, raising his glass as well. A relaxed smile crossed his face as the words resonated in the room.

One by one, the others raised their glasses, following the toast and celebrating with a strange mix of joy and relief. Amidst laughter and conversations that began to fade into the drunkenness of the moment, you shifted your gaze to your lap, where Alice, curled up against you, was struggling to stay awake. Her little eyelids were slowly closing, and her head tilted further to one side, in a losing battle against sleep.

Tenderly, you adjusted her comfortably in your arms, making sure she was snug. You downed the last sip from your glass, the warm wine sliding down your throat, before carefully getting up, trying not to disturb the little one’s rest.

“Where are you going?” Lori asked, raising her voice to ensure you could hear her over the growing noise of conversations around the table.

“I have to put Alice to bed,” you replied in an equally loud tone, mimicking her volume so your answer wouldn’t get lost in the noise. You glanced at the little one in your arms, who now seemed completely asleep.

“Come on, stay a little longer, enjoy the night,” Andrea intervened with a broad smile, trying to persuade you to remain in the celebration a bit longer. “We don’t always have moments like this.”

You glanced briefly at the others, all lost in their own state of relaxation. While the idea of staying was tempting, a sense of responsibility made you shake your head gently. "Maybe later," you said with a smile, though the calmness in your voice made it clear that your priority at that moment was taking care of the little one in your arms.

"The rooms are over there; keep going straight, and you'll find the bathrooms," Jenner said, pointing down the hallway with a firm yet relaxed gesture. You nodded in thanks, silently bidding farewell before walking in the direction of the rooms. As you moved forward, the voices and laughter from the dining room gradually faded away, leaving behind a peace that, though fleeting, was deeply comforting amidst the constant tension.

Once in the room you had reserved for yourself and Alice, you decided to give the little one a quick shower. You carefully cleaned her up, ensuring she felt safe and comfortable. Afterwards, you gently tucked her into bed, her calm breathing indicating that she was already deeply asleep.

With Alice resting, you took your towel and headed to the empty showers, knowing it was one of the few moments you could allow yourself a breather. As you entered, the steam from the hot water filled the small space, and the sensation of relief was almost instantaneous. The warm water cascaded over your body, relaxing every tense muscle and washing away the dirt that seemed to have clung to your skin during days of exhaustion and stress.

You washed your hair meticulously, feeling the strands return to their soft and clean texture. As you scrubbed your skin, you noticed a fine layer of dirt coming off, as if each stroke of soap was taking away not only the grime but also a bit of the accumulated fatigue.

You turned off the shower but took a moment to enjoy the last drops of water slowly sliding down your skin. It was a small pleasure, a fleeting sensation of tranquility amidst the constant struggle. Finally, you wrapped your naked body in the towel, letting the warmth linger a little longer before dressing in a loose shirt and denim shorts. Your still-damp hair slightly soaked the fabric of your shirt as you headed back into the hallway.

[lollytea]

What were your thoughts on Hunter's role in the finale? I've seen some conflicting opinions and I'm wondering what your take is

In my opinion, everybody who got puppeted at the beginning of WAD deserved a little more of a role in the special (So Camila, Amity, Willow, Gus and Hunter). It feels like they were unfairly sidelined because of time constraints. Which is understandable. At its core, this is Luz, Eda and King's story.

However, if I had to pick one character that I believe deserved that spotlight in the finale, it would be Gus, not Hunter.

I know what you're asking tho. How do I feel about Hunter having absolutely no involvement in taking down Belos. And when I saw it for the first time I was like "Hm...I could've sworn he'd be here too." That's just what I assumed would happen. But he wasn't.

Lately I've been trying to view things from a "is this an objectively shitty writing decision or is it just not what I would have done?" angle.

I assumed Hunter's finale arc wasn't finished yet. But it turns out that it actually was. So looking back on the last two specials, yeah...[shrugs] I guess this wasn't a bad conclusion to his story.

The scene in Thanks to Them where Hunter gives his big fat Fuck You speech to Belos was intended to be the send-off of that relationship.

And then For the Future involves Hunter attempting to deal with his grief and helpless rage. He puts himself on the warpath for the sake of coping. However, the episode then goes on to emphasize that Hunter is a person who loves more than he hates. He's a character who's more prominently defined by care and protection than anger and revenge.

With that in mind, I guess his role in Watching and Dreaming executes that message just fine. He's now more concerned with taking care of his friends than killing Belos. He doesn't leave their side.

There's also been a noticeable shift in how Hunter has been used in action sequences. He hasn't engaged in offensive combat since Labyrinth Runners. For the most part, he's become the defense, who has everybody else's back during a fight. All of his most intense scenes since then have been driven by emotion and communication, rather than violence. I feel like it was a deliberate choice for the fight choreography, in order to steer Hunter away from the battleground, in both a physical sense and in order to rearrange your depiction of him in your head. And with the groundwork they laid down, it becomes less surprising that he didn't fight Belos head on.

And judging from his little moment in the dreamscape during WAD, there's nobody he trusts more than Luz to carry out the job.

So like. I dunno. I probably don't have the most well constructed opinion. People who are more passionate about Hunter might disagree and that's cool. But like yeah, just because I didn't know his arc was finished and presumed there was more to come, doesn't mean that the arc he had was bad. At least that's how I feel about it.

[janeykath318]

Ring In The Sand (Steve Rogers x Single Mom! Reader)

It was your first vacation in ten years and you were feeling incredibly happy you’d finally taken the leap and splurged on a beach trip. The weather was perfect, the waves were gentle, and your daughter was having the time of her short life relishing her first time at the seashore. Being a single mom, It had taken a while to save up for the trip, but it was completely worth it. You had a cozy little beach cottage all to yourself, and got to spend quality time with Jordan.

The two of you laughed and splashed around like playful sea otters, and were in the midst of reenacting the little mermaid when you looked down and saw your wedding ring was gone from your finger.

“What’s wrong, mommy?” Jordan asked. “Is Ursula coming to take your voice?”

“No, honey. My ring’s gone. I think it slipped off in the water.”

“Oh, no! I’ll help you find it,” Jordan offered. Several minutes of hunting later, panic had started to set in and you realized there was a good chance it was gone for good.

“It’s okay, mommy. I’ll get the nice lifeguard man to help. He’s probably a really good finder. I can’t hold my breath long enough.”

She wrinkled her nose in annoyance at herself and couldn’t help but smile.

“It’s okay, sweetie, neither can I,” you admitted sadly. “I hate to bother him, but I think we have to. Since he’s in view, I’ll stand here and mark the spot while you go get him, okay?”

“Okay. Be right back.”

And Jordan zoomed away, quickly returning with her favorite lifeguard. The man was not the typical bored teenager trying to survive a summer job, but a rather shaggy haired man with a ready smile and a kind heart, who always waved when he saw them and had listened patiently to Jordan’s enthusiastic descriptions of her imaginary merpeople friends.

You rubbed your finger absently, eying the sandy shallow intently in hopes of spotting a flash of gold. Eric had been gone for nearly ten years, but you’d kept wearing the ring, fearing that taking it off would destroy the memories. It wasn’t logical, but grief never was.

Jordan and the lifeguard arrived at your side in mere minutes.

“Are you alright ma’am?” The lifeguard asked, giving you a quick look over to satisfy himself you weren’t in physical distress.

You couldn’t help but notice how well built he was compared to the other lifeguards, but it was hard to get a read on him with the large sunglasses and scruffy hair and beard. It was a good look, though.

“Yes, but I’ve lost my wedding ring and I’ve trouble spotting it. It’s a simple yellow gold band and has 6-23-12 etched in it,” you replied, breathlessly.

“Your wedding date?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll do my very best to find it,” Lifeguard promised solemnly. He disappeared under the water and you and Jordan watched as he scoured the waist deep water carefully. You were starting to get worried about how long he’d been down there when a shaggy brown head reappeared and then an arm, triumphantly holding up a gold ring.

“Is this it?” he asked, barely even short of breath. Dang it, the man was FIT.

“Yes!” you exclaimed, after checking the inside. “Oh my gosh! Thank you so much! My husband’s been gone for ten years and I just couldn’t stand the thought of letting go of it like this. I’d much prefer it to be on my own terms.”

“Understood,” your hero replied quietly. “If there’s anything else I can do, don’t hesitate to ask. I’ll be on watch until 7 pm.”

“Thank you so much,” you said gratefully. “I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”

“I’m glad I could find it.”

A pair of very pretty blue eyes looked earnestly into yours and you felt a strange stirring inside a part of your soul that had been dormant for a long time.

You stared after him as he returned to his post, unfazed by the water dripping off of him.

“Mommy, is he a merman?” Jordan queried.

“I don’t know, honey. Maybe we’ll see him tomorrow and you can ask him.”

“I hope so,” she sighed. “I don’t even know his name.”

The following day was cloudier, and you and Jordan designated it official sandcastle day, bringing with you various plastic containers for creating sandy masterpieces. Jordan wanted to make a mermaid castle and scoured the beach for shells to decorate it with. When she had succeeded in creating her ideal castle, there was much celebration and picture taking.

“Wow! That’s an amazing sandcastle!” a voice broke in. Jordan’s eyes lit up at the sound of her favorite lifeguard and she proudly showed off all of its details.

“I’m so glad you came, Mr. Lifeguard. I need to know if you’re a merman or not.”

Amazingly, the man treated her question seriously and stopped down to Jordan’s level.

“No, but I have learned some tricks from the mermaids that make it easier for me to help swimmers in trouble,” he informed her. “Including your mom’s lost ring situation.”

“Um, about that,” you broke in, “I would like to repay you a bit. Perhaps treat you to ice cream after your shift?”

“That’s not necessary, but I never turn down ice cream,” he chuckled. “I’m Steve, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you Steve,” you answered, shaking his hand, wondering again if you’d seen that nose before. Something about it looked familiar.

“I’m Y/N and this is Jordan.”

“Nice to meet you, Jordan,” Steve said, turning to your daughter. “Nice work. You have the makings of quite the architect.”

“Thank you, Mr. Steve,” Jordan replied happily.

“So, meet you at the ice cream stand at seven-ish?” You asked hopefully.

“Sounds good,” Steve answered. “See you then.”

Again, there came a little thrill of anticipation.

Steve was as good as his word and met you and Jordan at the ice cream stand. He’d put on a dark blue button up shirt and was chatting easily with the kid working the stand.

You were a little flabbergasted at how delighted he looked to see you and normally such attention from a man would have had you putting all your guards up, but your gut was telling you this man was the genuine article.

As the cones were being enjoyed, you ventured to ask him about himself and what had brought him here.

“I left a very high profile job because it was slowly killing me mentally,” he admitted. “I needed a break and a career change. This way, I can still help people without getting tangled up in bureaucracy and conflicts.”

“Law enforcement?” you guessed.

“Something like that,” he hedged.

Hmmmm. Super classified.

“What about you?” Steve asked.

“Well, my husband and I lived in D.C. because he had a job at a now defunct government agency. I was pregnant with Jordan when he was killed during the Uprising of 2014. Afterwards, I moved out of the city and focused on raising her. She’s my whole world and I’m doing the best I can to give her lots of good memories with me, since she doesn’t have any of her father.”

Steve had gone very still and there was a look of deep sadness on his face as you spoke. His eyes grew distant and he was very quiet for a moment.

“Were you there too?” you ventured.

“Yeah,” he told her, turning his serious gaze back to you. “I was there.” The distant look grew more poignant.

Luckily for this conversation, Jordan was occupied with her ice cream, eating as slowly and deliberately as possible. You smiled at her before returning your attention to Steve.

“Eric was having suspicions something was very amiss, but they covered their tracks so well, he couldn’t get the evidence and he certainly couldn’t tell his superiors, who all turned out to be Hydra. When things came to a head, they tried to force him to help with the launch, he refused, Pierce had him killed.”

Steve closed his eyes as again that look of sorrow came over him.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. We lost too many good people that day. Sounds like your Husband was a great agent. If it hadn’t been for people like him taking a stand, they might have succeeded.”

“He was a great agent and an even better husband,” you confirmed. “But I’m curious, what department were you in? You said you had a high profile job.”

“I was……consulting with them.” Steve’s face colored a bit as he spoke, and you wondered why he was so shy about it, then it hit you where you recognized his profile from.

“Oh. That Steve,” you said, eyes widening at the realization that Lifeguard Steve was actually Steve Rogers.

“Yep. Hope that isn’t a problem.”

Steve looked very wary and you couldn’t blame him. Some people still talked about him like he was a criminal because he hadn’t signed the Accords (which were garbage), and a lot of other people hero-worshipped him to an extreme extent.

“No. No it’s not. You’re just trying to make a new life for yourself and get some privacy,” you assured him. “I promise I won’t go blabbing your secret. You’ve been so kind to us. I’m only annoyed that it took me so long to recognize those cheekbones. Very distinctive.”

Steve chuckled and visibly relaxed.

“It means my semi-disguise is working, then. After Thanos, I wasn’t in a good place mentally and I knew I was ready to be done with the shield. So I gave it to Sam and went off the grid for a while. I don’t miss the fighting, but I did miss helping people, so I took the necessary training for lifeguarding. It’s worked out pretty well.”

“And it sounds like you’re pretty good at it,” you told him playfully. “But now I know why you were able to stay under so long when you were finding my ring. I was beginning to think I’d have to rescue the rescuer.”

Steve laughed. “Yes, the serum does have its benefits. Before I had it, I could never have attempted such a thing.”

“So I’ve read,” you admitted. “But it looks like they picked the right guy to get it.”

Jordan had finished her ice cream and was looking very antsy.

“Can I show Mr. Steve my seashell collection? Please?” she implored, turning her puppy dog eyes on you to full effect. They were very similar to her father’s and like his, they were very hard to say no to.

“Well, if he’s not tired of us by now or doesn’t have anywhere else he needs to be, I don’t see why not,” you told her. Immediately Jordan moved her puppy plea look to Steve, who immediately caved.

“I’m absolutely not tired of you and I don’t have any set schedule anymore, thank goodness.”

You shot him a knowing look at the deep relief in his tone. Steve had lived through a lot of stuff you couldn’t—and wouldn’t—want to imagine. Despite all that, he hadn’t lost that good character and heart that had impressed Erskine all those years ago.

You strolled down the sand towards your cottage, enjoying the beautiful sunset and trying not to steal too many glances at the man walking beside you. It was a shame you were only here for another three days. Getting to know the man who’d helped save half the universe was surprisingly appealing.

Jordan chattered to Steve happily about her favorite superheroes. She’d taken the news about his identity in stride and it only increased his status as her favorite lifeguard. It was very bittersweet watching them, and knowing you probably wouldn’t see Steve again after this week. The last thing you wanted was for her to get too attached and then be hurt…..

Jordan’s excited squeal broke you out of your reverie and you saw her glomp Steve in a hug.

“Don’t ambush the man, honey!” you admonished her, glad to see Steve smiling as he accepted her exuberant hug.

“Sorry, Mr. Steve,” she sheepishly apologized. “I got really excited.”

“It’s okay,” Steve chuckled. “I was a kid once.”

“We were talking about the Avengers and I told him Hawkeye is my favorite and he told me he could get me Hawkeye’s autograph!”

She did a little gleeful dance.

“I think you’ve just made her entire year,” you told Steve as you approached the cottage’s back door. “Would you like to come in? This could take awhile. Her collection is quite extensive.”

“I’d love to,” Steve replied cheerily, fixing his attention on you.

After he’d examined Jordan’s collection and given it the proper compliments, you had the dreaded task of giving the bedtime announcement to her. Surprisingly, she didn’t put up a fuss for once and bid you and Steve goodnight easily.

“I wish it was always that easy,” you remarked ruefully.

Steve laughed, and again your insides did a funny little lurch.

“Thanks so much for today, Y/N” he told you as you let him out the door. “If I don’t see you again before you leave, where should I send the autographed Hawkeye picture for Jordan?”

“Oh, yeah, I almost forgot! BRB!” you called, running back in to scribble it down. Perhaps you were being reckless, giving out your address to a guy you’d just met, but this was Steve Rogers! Plus, the joy on Jordan’s face was fully imprinted in your brain. It was worth a little risk.

“Here you go,” you said, handing it over a little shyly. “I’ll make sure she writes a proper thank you note in return.”

“She’s quite a delightful young woman,” Steve observed. “Apple didn’t fall far from the tree.”

He gave you an admiring, but respectful look that you knew you’d be thinking about for a long time afterward.

“Good night, Y/N.” He finally said softly.

“Good night, Steve.”

[luminouslumity]

Some more retellings I read recently! I've actually alluded to having read DoS before, but wanted to wait for TSoP to come out before making an actual post first. And unlike last time, I wasn't a big fan of these books. Though in hindsight, I probably should've known that when I saw the cover for DoS; no, but seriously, Greek is a beautiful language, but seeing it used as font will never not hurt the little linguist in me. Also, Nestra... No. Just no. And as for the books themselves? Well, what I like to do when reading or watching an adaptation of a work is to look at it two ways: first, does it work as an adaptation, and second, does it work on its own? And in the case of Heywood... not really for both.

I do want to give credit where credit is due though, I actually did enjoy Heywood's writing as well as how she incorporated some pretty minor details from certain sources that I haven't seen any other retelling use (ex: Menelaus having a son by a slave woman, something that's actually mentioned in the Odyssey), but that's as far as my praise goes, at least as far as her first book is concerned.

Another thing to keep in mind is that her books are one of those retellings that strip away the mythological aspects entirely for the sake of telling a historical narrative and I honestly have yet to find one that actually does this well, because without the presence of gods or monsters, you run into some really stupid contrivances at best and quite a few gaping plot holes at worst. Then we get scenes like Helen literally kicking and spitting on Eileithyia's rock because she doesn't want to get pregnant again and Iphigenia getting sacrificed because the priest Calchas wanted revenge after he blames Agamemnon for his sister's death, and a part of me honestly can't help but feel uncomfortable reading scenes like this, almost like it's mocking an ancient religion that many still acknowledge and practice to this day. Oh, and just so no one misunderstands me, I'm taking issue with Helen basically insulting a goddess specifically, even if that goddess is physically absent.

TSoP does seem to tone this down, or at the very least, it's not to the extent that we saw in DoS from what I noticed, though it's also completely possible there was something I had missed. One moment that does stand out to me though is when Danae internally compares the light coming from a torch fire to a golden shower and then we immediately get the reveal of Perseus' actual father, which I actually thought was pretty funny. It helps that Myron himself was really sweet from the little we knew him, which also makes me sad because there really didn't seem to be any reason for Danae to lie to Perseus about who his father was. It's not like Danae was ashamed of Myron or anything, either; it's one thing for her to want to keep her past a secret from her son for now, it's an entirely other thing to lie to him and say his father was a god!

And speaking of the characters, I actually really liked Claire's version of Helen, I just hate that it comes at the expense of turning her into a neglectful parent even before she runs away with Paris (thankfully, her actions aren't exactly glorified, either; actually, I feel like I would've enjoyed this plotline alot more had it been executed better), as well as turning Menelaus into a distant husband and Leda into an awful mother. Meanwhile, Agamemnon is horrible even long before he sacrifices Iphigenia, and Klytemnestra once again never kills Kassandra in cold blood, even though the entire point of the myth is to show the senselessness of violence and vengeance and how her grief had corrupted her in the years her husband had been away at war.

I am once again asking, what's wrong with being direct?

And as for TSoP, the characters here are certainly a lot more enjoyable personality-wise... but that's also an issue, because it all comes at the expense of turning Perseus—whose entire quest revolved around saving his mother—into an entitled brat. First because he thinks he's a demigod, then because he finds out he's the grandson of a king and has a prophecy to fulfill. In fact, he doesn't even go on a quest at all, just sent away because his mother actually wants to marry Polydectes and he won't stop throwing a tantrum about it. Then we just skip to him meeting Medusa and then killing her after she rejects his feelings for her, "saving" Andromeda from what was basically a symbolic sacrifice, mistaking the hospitality feast he's given for a wedding banquet in honor of himself and his supposed new bride due to the language barrier, killing her actual betrothed before she finally decides to go with him, killing Polydectes when he refuses to stand down, and then nearly killing an old Acrisius before finally listening to what his mother and wife want and letting his grandfather live.

That's it. That's the book.

And I liked the use of the Prophecy Twist at the end and also how Danae refused to forgive her father for what he had done, but really, whatever positives I have to say about either book aren't really enough to outweigh the negatives.

And I mean, compare everything I just said about TSoP to the original myth; an evil king wishes to marry a beautiful princess who'd been rescued from the sea (or he already has married her in some versions), but she has no interest in him, so he sends her demigod child, who was protective of his mother, on a quest to slay an unslayable monster in hopes of getting him out of the way for good. With help from the gods, he manages to succeed and even rescues a princess on the way back after she's nearly sacrificed to a sea monster as punishment for her mother's vanity. Afterwards, he saves his own mother by presenting the head of the monster to the other monster and turning him to stone, before later killing his grandfather by accident! And it wasn't even Medusa's head that took him out, either, but a discus!

See how sweet and simple the original is? But no, instead we get Perseus who keeps throwing these violent tantrums because he isn't getting what he wants, made worse by the fact that his character has about as much depth as a rock. In fact, why have this be a retelling at all? This solution can pretty much apply to just about any other one too, but for TSoP specifically, it could've very easily been about someone who grew up being inspired by the tales of Perseus, maybe even facing a similar situation to him and becoming desperate to escape it, and then later becomes their own downfall by the end of it. That would've been much more interesting, methinks!

And before anyone brings up the Medusa thing, the version everyone talks about actually comes from much later sources, specifically Ovid, who was Roman, and a pretty spiteful one at that; in fairness, the Greek poet Hesiod does describe her as having been a mortal who had sexual relations with Poseidon, but even then, he makes no mention as to whether the encounter was consensual or not, just that they did it in a meadow—yeah, not a temple, a meadow. Other Greek and even some Roman sources also have her always be a monster, even being descended from the mother of monsters herself, Echidna.

As for Athena changing her into a Gorgon for her own protection, I can't find an ancient source anywhere that states this, never mind that it's not like women wouldn't have been immune to her curse, either. And as awesome of a concept as a monstrous figure being seen as a patron for women is... that's not exactly true either. Ancient Greece didn't have women's shelters, for one thing, and though it's true that engravings of her head can be found on buildings, they can be found everywhere else as well, including on tombstones. That's because it was actually used to ward off not any specific human, but evil spirits instead. Because nothing was seen as scarier than a Gorgon. Also, there were several deities whom women prayed to (and still do!) for protection, including Athena herself, so praying to Medusa—who they would've considered a monster—wouldn't have really made much sense. Again, cool concept, but it kinda falls apart once you think about it for more than five seconds.

But yeah, these certainly aren't the worst retellings I've read, but still there's nothing particularly outstanding about them, either. Not in a good way, at least.

[kinetic-elaboration]

November 20: Six Feet Under Rewatch

Still feeling terrible writer’s block, at the worst time…

I started rewatching Six Feet Under today. It’s been in my head for a little bit, between seeing Lauren Ambrose on Yellowjackets and realizing how long it’s been since I last watched it, and when it came, surprisingly, to Netflix, I thought that was a sign. I used to do rewatches every few years but I haven’t seen it since before the pandemic. I knew that doing so then would have been too much for me emotionally, and it’s sort of a test of strength to see if I can handle it now. I enjoyed re-watching the pilot but I do think I’m going to find it much more emotional and difficult to watch than I have in the past—I think the sad/melancholy/thoughtful parts are going to hit harder.

Because it’s been so long, I felt a bit like I was seeing it for the first time. There was a lot I didn’t remember or that I saw differently. This time, I was thinking about the role of different characters in the funeral home and, I suppose, the larger thematic story. Nate very obviously shows an aptitude for the human part of dealing with grief and loss, right from the start: he’s the one comforting Ruth at both the funeral and the burial, he’s the one Claire turns to in her hero-worship way and the one to comfort her at the grocery store, he’s both in tune to and interested in the messier and scarier part of grief. That’s why death is so terrifying for him to deal with; these are two sides of the same coin, being unable to face it himself and being deeply empathetic to others who face it. He’s something like the ‘soul.’

David is more the ‘head.’ He’s not artistic and he’s not particularly soothing—he’s competent at both restoration and interacting with mourners but not fantastic at either. The business side of the funeral home wouldn’t run without him, though: he’s practical and level-headed and has ideas for improving the business-as-business (coffee machine in the slumber room > unnecessary fancy new hearse). I think the music that he was complimented on at the first funeral was probably his idea. And he’s steady; he’s devoted. The truth is that he might not be as naturally gifted at certain parts of the business as Nate is, but he’s the one who stayed.

And Rico is the hands. At the beginning especially, he has no real sense of how to interact with people in mourning (I actually think the way he speaks about Nathanial is pretty OOC in the pilot, even for what has been established about him so far) and he’s clearly much more comfortable in the basement, perfecting his artistic work.

Claire isn’t one of the funeral home employees but I was thinking of her role as well: the artist, the Vision. Claire sees what other people can’t. That’s why her ultimate career as a photographer, and fate as the last character standing, and even her eventual blindness, are all so fitting (what might she still see, when she can no longer physically see?). I’ve long felt that at least some of the ‘ghost’ sightings in the show are real. Obviously most of them are just the characters’ anxieties and other thoughts manifesting as figments of their imagination. But I think when Brenda sees Nate and Nathanial with her daughter in that last stretch of episodes, that’s real. (I know the explanation of how she knows what Nathanial looks like could be she saw photos but shhhhh. Anyway why would she imagine him? And why is Nate suddenly so much calmer and softer and nicer than the mean Nate hallucinations she’s been seeing?)

I bring this up because when Claire sees Nathanial at the burial, I think she’s seeing a real ghost. I don’t know that I think she really talks to him, but I think the sighting is real. Because we see him first. There’s a shot of him sitting on the hearse in the same outfit, just watching the burial. Only a little later does Claire look up and see him, apparently for the first time. If he’s a figment, whose figment is he? This also makes me wonder if Claire’s visions of her father are a more accurate window into his character than the others’.

(I also wonder if Nate’s sighting of Nathanial getting on the bus at the end of the pilot was another ‘real ghost’ experience.)

And Ruth’s role is to be Criminally Underused from the GET and to be a national treasure. “I’m not in mourning, I’m a whore!!”

[ramzawrites]

requesting an angsty fic where reader is schlatts kid and they have the same features as him, namely the horns so people avoid them because of what schlatt did, it leads to reader hating their horns and cutting them off/ ripping them out and someone finds them crying, covered in blood with their horns just on the ground or smth, set after schlatts death btw

A Painful Reminder - Dad!Schlatt and Reader - Part 1

Part 2

GN

Pairings: none

Characters included: Quackity, Niki, (mentioned) Schlatt, (mentioned) Techno

Warnings: self harm (destroying own horns with a blunt object), mention of blood, abondenment, depression, cursing

Series: an angst request!

Summary: Y/N is the child of Schlatt and after his death tried their best to deal with the grief. Hoping to connect with people only to painfully realize that their horns are a painful reminder to everyone for Schlatt’s rule and therefore try to stay as far as possible from them.

Words count: 2428

Authors Note: I hope this is fine! I struggled a bit with it and I think you can tell, I apologize for that. I’m honestly not that good with angst but if you enjoy it I’m happy!! Please give me feedback on how to get better at angst :o

I love you guys and please take care of yourself 💙

After Schlatt died and Pogtopia effectively won the war against Manberg only for the nation to get blown up by Wilbur, the people tried their best to rebuild with the help of Tubbo as the new president.

There was a new sense of hope that swept through the nation. They all suffered greatly to get to this place but this was a turning point for most. A time for healing. A time for rebuilding what was lost. A time for grief.

While Y/N spent most of their time building up their own home inside L’Manberg, they were struggling a lot with grief.

They mourned for the loss of the only parent they had in their life, Schlatt.

The president of Manburg, the tyrant that died surrounded by his enemies inside a van. The only parent of Y/N.

The relationship between the two was complicated to say the least. Deep inside they still loved their father but he brought so much pain and even bloodshed on people that they couldn’t in good conscience support him.

For the longest time they tried their best trying to persuade him, that he would change his way but he never listened. Either too full with his own ego or too drunk to care. The last straw that broke the camel’s back for Y/N was when Schlatt ordered Tubbo’s execution.

The emotions they felt while they yelled and wailed at Schlatt to stop this madness was still fresh in their mind whenever their thoughts lingered back to that day. Quackity had to  physically restrain and pull them back on Schlatt’s orders.

It was the moment they realized that there was no way for them to reach Schlatt anymore. He was set in his way and nothing could change that.

After their death to Technoblade’s blood lust during the festival, they ran away and spoke with Tommy. Y/N didn’t want to kill Schlatt but they saw in Pogtopia a chance to stop him. Make him see what he has done. Make him responsible for his actions.

Only this never came to pass. Schlatt died inside a dirty van. A heart attack or a stroke. Y/N didn’t know, nor did they care. He was dead either way.

While everyone was rebuilding and trying to fall back into a normal day to day life. Y/N was lost. They didn’t feel particularly close to anyone nor did the other seem to trust them. Their eyes were always drawn towards Y/N’s horns resting on their head.

During Schlatt’s rule they became somewhat of a symbol. A symbol for himself, for pain, for blood, for tyranny. So when Y/N walked around town the others couldn’t help but stare at these oh so similar horns that reminded them of a past best forgotten.

It made Y/N unsure of themself. It was a physical proof of their connection to their father. It was a double edged sword. In the past they loved that they inherited similar Hybrid traits like their father but now it was the reason why everyone seemed to avoid them.

The people wanted to move on but these damn horns pulled them back whenever their eyes fell on them. Y/N wasn’t stupid. They noticed this pretty fast.

Hell, if anything the funeral was the best proof for that. Bad tried his best to keep everyone under control and have a proper funeral but everyone was too busy celebrating. Talking about stealing his bones. Destroying a picture of him.

All while Y/N sat in the back. They had hoped they could use this funeral as a way to finally say goodbye, let go off the pain and regret but all this chaos just made them realize that the people will never properly accept them due to their relation with Schlatt.

Schlatt may have put all of the people through a horrible and unforgivable time but he effectively snuffed out any chance for Y/N to live a normal life between these people. This legacy of his for Y/N stung almost deeper than all the time he insulted them or flat out ignored them. It made them wonder if he ever realized what he did to his own child. Even if he did Y/N wasn’t sure he cared enough to do anything about it.

Y/N wrung their hands as they stood in front of Niki’s and Puffy’s flower shop. The money ready in their hands so this transaction could happen faster but even so they were too nervous to step in.

After some mental pep talk they finally slowly pushed the wooden door open. To their horror it begun creaking which made them wince. There was no way Niki hasn’t noticed them walking in seeing how she stood at the counter but still Y/N didn’t want to put more attention on themself than they absolutely had to.

“Oh.” Was all Niki said. She almost sounded disappointed. Y/N realized that she probably would have happily greeted anyone else coming into the shop but them.

Their eyes were glued to the ground. As they suddenly became overly aware of their horns, it felt like their weight increased immensely. Almost as if they tried to press down on Y/N. It made them feel as small and worthless as possible under the gaze of other people.

Y/N put the money on the counter as soon as they reached it “A full bouquet of purple hyacinth, please.”

“Alright.” Niki immediately moved away in order to make the bouquet ready. Though Y/N didn’t watch, they were now staring at the wood of the counter. Following he natural lines of it with their eyes as they patiently waited.

After a few minutes Niki placed the flowers in front of Y/N which pulled them out of their thoughts and made them look up. Niki forced a smile on but she still looked almost stern. Soft crevices building up as her eyebrows formed a painful frown.

“This is too much.” Niki begun pushing some of the money back towards Y/N but they shook their head.

“It’s a tip.”

Picking the flowers up into their arms they tried to put on a genuine smile before turning around to walk out of the shop.

Before they exited the shop they could hear Niki say a soft “Thanks.”

That was basically how every conversation with anyone went. Only short and the most necessary words. At first Y/N tried to start genuine conversation but they soon noticed how the others wouldn’t react. Just trying to get as fast as possible through this conversation. Their eyes always directed on Y/N’s horns.

After Y/N placed the flowers in front of Schlatt’s grave, like they did every week, they made their way towards the river.

Sometimes they would spend their time there since it’s a bit farther away from the city, so it was rare to see someone else hanging out there. Y/N mostly used this place to fish in peace. If they fished anywhere near the others their stares and frowns weighed too heavy down on them.

As they sat at the bank of the river, preparing their fishing line, their eyes fell unto their own reflection.

Dark circles adorned their eyes from their countless restless nights. Only falling asleep after hours of crying.

They couldn’t help but put the blame on their horns. Their god damn horns. Y/N hated them. Hated them so much. What would their life be like without them? Would the others still eye them so incredibly cautiously? Would they give Y/N a chance? After all Y/N was vocal about the fact that they didn’t support any of Schlatt’s decisions. For the longest time they tried to help the others through the hard times!

Yet, now as he was dead, they only showed Y/N the cold shoulder. If it wasn’t Y/N themself then the reason has to entirely lay on the horns. It was a too strong reminder of Schlatt.

A sob escaped Y/N’s lips. Tears now falling down their cheeks onto the green grass. No one was around so they didn’t mind crying loudly like this.

It was just so unfair. They did everything they could and yet all they reaped was disdain from the people and in a sick twist Y/N couldn’t even fault them for it. Whenever they saw their own reflection, their own eyes would be drawn to their dark horns after all.

Back in the day they were always happy looking at them but now they were the reason for Y/N being abandoned by everyone. They used to be somewhat good friends with Quackity due to his position as Schlatt’s Vice President and even he ignored them as soon as Schlatt was dead.

They had no one and at fault were these stupid, ugly horns.

Y/N let the fishing rod fall to the ground as they continued staring at their reflection. Trembling as they sobbed. Feeling so lonely with no way out.

What could they do? Put on a hat? There is no hat big enough to hide their horns. No, the horns had to go. There was no other way.

Shakily their hand snaked through the grass towards the water. Slowly submerging it into the ice cold liquid as the hand continued searching for something. As their hand landed on a stone that fit perfectly in their palm they held it in front of their face. Inspecting it.

As if to test it they softly tapped the stone against the tip of their horn. Their head moving with it. It felt weird. It didn’t hurt, of course, but it was still a weird feeling as the soft vibration traveled through it.

Letting out a shaky breath they reached back with their arm. The stone in an iron grip.

They hated this.

They hated everything about this but what could they possibly do? What could they do to get a proper chance at a normal conversation with Niki while buying flowers? A proper chance to talk with Quackity again, the man who was right there with them as all the bullshit happened.

All they wanted was a real chance to connect with people.

Y/N let out a sobbing scream as the stone collided with their horn, ripping off a good part of the tip.

It softly splashed into the water. Getting stuck between rocks, slowly rocking with the water stream.

“I don’t want to be alone anymore.” They stammered between sobs as they once again pulled their arm back in order to strike the horn again.

Again.

Again.

And again.

Their arm and hand hurt from constantly colliding with the hard material. A huge headache was now spreading through their head as they were sitting between broken pieces of what used to make up their horn.

But they weren’t done yet. The other side had to go as well.

With every new blow their whimpers would increase as well. At first a result of their hopelessness but it soon turned into an expression of pain. But they couldn’t give up. They had to keep going.

They had to get rid off this legacy Schlatt left them with.

After a particularly harsh blow they suddenly felt something warm slide down the side of their head.

Letting the stone fall down onto the ground they frantically stared at their own reflection in the water. It was blood.

Shocked they let out a shaky laugh. As much as it hurt and was horrible to look at, there weren’t any rest pieces of the horn resting on their head. So they picked the rock back up and with a blood curdling scream they slammed it into the other horn again, trying to get rid of the rest properly.

And it worked.

They were light headed from the pain, bleeding and crying but the horns were gone.

They were finally free of the curse.

“Finally.” They mumbled to themself only to finally take the time to rest and cry. They cried their god damn heart out. It was as if all the stress from the last couple of months finally jumped off their back.

Y/N’s back hit the soft ground as they slammed back, staring at the leaves up above them. Dancing with the wind and only occasionally giving away to the sun that was shining down on them.

Dark red blood staining the green grass. Their eyes growing heavier the more they continued to cry and hyperventilate. This pain is nothing. From this point on everything has to get better. It has to.

There was an audible gasp.

It wasn’t Y/N but they were too tired to look where it came from.

“Y/N? What the hell did you do? What happened? By Ender you are bleeding!” it was a male voice. Quackity? They weren’t too sure. Too delirious to tell.

Strong hands fell on their arms and pushed them up in a sitting position. Their head rolled back and they finally looked into Quackity’s pale face. So, they were right after all.

One of his arms went around their back in order to hold the crying Y/N upright as he took a better look at the wounds.

“I have to get you to someone who knows how to make healing pots. Maybe regeneration? Hell if I know. Did you do this? Your hands are covered in blood.” He was frantic.

Y/N shakily moved their hands up in order to grab Quackity’s hand that was holding their head in place and pushed it away from them, smearing his hand with their own blood “Don’t worry. I freed myself. The horns are gone. Now, you guys don’t have to be reminded of him anymore. We can all finally live in peace. No more reminders to him.”

Quackity’s eyes widened. His mouth opened up in an expression of pure shock. He hated that he could tell immediately what they meant exactly. After the war he did avoid them as much as he could. As Y/N said they, or rather their horns, reminded him too much of Schlatt and he needed time to heal but he never imagined this could lead to this.

He felt incredibly guilty. Realizing that he never really thought about what everyone’s behavior did to Y/N.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. We’ll find a way to help you.” His arm went under Y/N’s legs and with some straining he managed to get back up, holding them in his arms. Y/N leaned their head against Quackity’s chest, staining it with their blood in the process.

“See. It’s already working.” They whispered just before passing out.

“Fuck.” Quackity had to find someone who knew how to heal them as soon as possible. Jogging back into the city calling frantically out for help.

[bbyheedeungie]

Fluttering Machinery | Robot! Sunghoon AU

Genre: Fluff, mild angst

Pairings: Robot! Sunghoon x Reader

Warnings: Character death, little suggestive content

Synopsis: Sunghoon was a humanoid built by your father, with the sole purpose of taking care of you once he passes away. But it seems like taking care of you came with discovering emotions that wasn't necessary for cooking, cleaning, and keeping you safe. What is this warm fuzzy feeling that resonates deep inside Sunghoon's mechanism?

It's been months. 6 dreadful months since your father has passed away. The doctors have warned you that he didn't have much time left, but that didn't make the goodbyes hurt any less.

You were 4 years old when your mom left you and your father for another guy. A more successful guy. Your father was bright, with an insatiable hunger for discovery and invention. But his field of work didn't always bring food to the table. And so on most days you had to, well, compromise.

But you loved your father so much, and still do. Although you didn't grow up to be a scientist like him, you knew the basics on automation and robotics. You were 11 years old when you first saw it, the humanoid that he worked on for years came to life before your own very eyes.

He had no skin nor face that made him look human yet. Just a chunk of metal with a head, arms and legs that moved mechanically. Nevertheless, you will never forget the joy and pride in your fathers' face as he watched his creation. The humanoid was a work in progress and you knew one day he's going to change the world. Unbeknownst to you, he was going to change your world.

And now here you are, years into the present as you stood infront of the humanoid who had his eyes shut. Yep, he's a he now. He is Humanoid SH-1282. Your father made him for the purpose of serving the community, to help people. But when he discovered his illness, he started making alterations to his design. He made SH-1282 to serve as the perfect companion, but only to you.

He filled the humanoid's hard drive with everything that he'll need to help you and take care of you. He input cooking, cleaning, and even martial arts. You sighed, remembering your father's last words.

"I'm gonna leave him in your care now, err leave you in his care or whatever. Take good care of each other okay? I love you both so much."

You were such a crybaby, holding on to your father's arm as the nurses were ushering you to wait outside because the doctors are about to perform surgery.

"You'll be okay." Your father mouthed as he smiled knowingly in content.

You reach for the humanoid's neck to find the power button, finally deciding to activate him after holding it off for months.

You held your breath as his eyes open, immediately scanning his surroundings. His eyes land on you, a smile forms on his lips.

"Hi, I'm SH-1282. It's nice to finally meet you, Y/N." He said naturally, offering his hand. If you didn't know any better, you would think he was a normal boy.

You let out a shaky breath as you accept his hand. He frowns, it seems like he is studying your facial expression and posture.

"You seem like you are in distress. Are you alright?" He asks in concern.

"Yeah, I am." You reply weakly.

"Will a hug improve your mood?" He asks. He was programmed to know about the benefits of physical intimacy, but he was also programmed to know consent and so he will not do anything unless you want to.

You contemplated, biting your lip.

"No, thank you." He simply nods, stepping out of his charging port.

"Will you show me around the house?" He asks and you nod.

"Damn this feels so awkward." You think to yourself.

"So here's the living room." You say as SH-1282 takes a good look around the area, his eyes falling to the dirty coffee table with tons of papers stacked messily. The couch looked greasy, with breadcrumbs stuck to the sides of the couch cushions. He scrunches his nose, involuntarily adding a new emotion to his database: disgust.

And as you led him to the kitchen, this emotion intensifies as he sees the containers of Chinese takeouts and cup ramen littered around the counter. He walks to the fridge and finds it empty except for a carton of milk that you put into your cereal for breakfast.

This awakens another emotion for the humanoid, frustration. He pinches the bridge of his nose as he contemplates on what to do with the mess, aka you.

"This won't do. You have been living unhealthily which may reduce your chances of living a long life."

You scoff, "Excuse me?" He gives you a dead stare, an eyebrow raised.

"No, excuse me while I clean up all this. I'll leave you to your own devices, thank you for showing me around today." He says sassily as he goes to find where you hide your cleaning utensils. You stood there dumbfounded.

"Unbelievable." But you let him be anyway. He wasn't wrong, you've been a total mess this past few months but that was all because of the grief. You basically had no family now.

And so for the rest of the day, you lock yourself in your room and do homework. About 5pm, you hear a soft knock at your door.

"Hello, it's me. Can you spare me a minute? I have something to ask of you." You inwardly groan, not really wanting to face the humanoid.

"Can you accompany me to get groceries? I swear this will only happen one time. It is only because I am not yet accustomed to my location. But after I mentally note the directions, you won't have to come with me next time." He didn't really want to bother you, but he knew that going out by himself and getting lost will be much more bothersome for you.

"Sure thing, just let me change into— oh no, you have no other clothes. It's kinda chilly outside today." You mentally facepalm yourself. Why didn't I go shopping for men clothes first before activating him?

"That is fine, I am immune to any temperature." He says as-a-matter-of-fact. You roll your eyes.

"I know that but people will probably get suspicious to see a man walking around in a shirt and jeans when everybody else has coats on. We need you to fit in as much as possible."

You search for your father's old coat that you refused to throw away even months after he's passed.

"Sorry dad, but he kinda needs this right now." And so you dress the humanoid in your oversized university sweatshirt (which surprisingly fits him perfectly) and your father's old coat.

"How do I look? Will I fit in now?" He asks as he scans his appearance in the mirror.

"You look—" absolutely breathtaking. You had every urge to slap yourself. Your father really didn't play around when he made the humanoid's face. He could pass up as an idol. And the cute little mole on his nose was a good addition to his features that made him even more realistic.

"Great. People won't suspect a thing."

The two of you head out. Contrary to your expectations that he would marvel at everything he sees outside, he just casually looks around. You ride the bus together, and the humanoid processes everything that you do, noting how everything works.

What caught you by surprise though, is how he immediately stands up in instinct to let an old lady sit down in his place. He sure was programmed with manners and chivalry. You smiled at the thought.

You made your way inside the grocery store, only intended to grab a basket but the humanoid insisted on a push cart.

"We have so much to buy, I've taken a mental note of everything we'll need." You simply roll your eyes and let him push the cart around as you wandered behind him. You look around as he reads the nutritional facts of every single thing he sees.

"This is definitely going to take a while." You muttered.

"Y/N? Is that you?" A voice squealed. You hissed and attempted to turn away, pretending you didn't see her. The humanoid saw how you reacted and swiftly rushed to your side in a protective stance. The stranger eyes the humanoid, her eyes sparkling at the sight of such a gorgeous man.

"Why hello there. Y/N you didn't tell me you've been busy with your boyfriend, we haven't hung out in a while." Both of your eyes widened at the misunderstanding.

"Oh, no he's not— we aren't—" You tried to explain but she just laughed out loud.

"Look how flustered you are. You know what, it's okay. But we have a lot of catching up to do!" She said, squishing your cheeks in a playful manner.

"So what's your name, handsome stranger?" She asks, turning to the confused humanoid.

"I'm S—"

"Sunghoon! His name is Sunghoon." You blurted out. Sunghoon was the name of your childhood crush when you were like 7 but that'll have to do. Unfortunately, it seems that the humanoid got even more confused.

"I am Y/N's—"

"Neighbor. He lives next door to my apartment. I was just showing him around because he just recently moved into the city." You say quickly. She can't know that you're living with a guy. Even if said guy wasn't human.

"Awww how sweet of you to go shopping with your neighbor." She said, winking at you. She's definitely not convinced.

"I'm Yeonmi, Y/N's friend." She introduced, offering her hand to Sunghoon. He took her hand reluctantly.

"You mean my super obnoxious friend." You roll your eyes.

"Shut up, you love me." She teased. Admittedly, you've been avoiding her for months now. Ever since your father passed, it was as if you didn't want to deal with anyone anymore, with the fear of being left behind again. So you shut everyone out. You know it was a very selfish move and must've made everyone worry, but you have yet to figure out how to fix things back to how it is.

You said your goodbyes not without a long, tight hug from Yeonmi and Sunghoon noticed from his scanners how your vitals greatly improved from it. This made him feel another new emotion: relief. He was very thankful for your friend who made you feel better.

You continue venturing down the aisle of food, and you find the humanoid smiling to himself. He notices your attention on him and he shakes his head, as if shrugging his thoughts off.

"What?" You asked.

"You gave me a name. Although I'm unsure if it is necessary, thank you." He says genuinely as he smiles at you, your heart skipping a beat.

"You're welcome, Sunghoon." You smiled back.

He picked up lots of fruits and vegetables, with you whining the whole time. Your whines unlocked another emotion of his; annoyance.

"No wonder her father thought she is in need of taking care of, she acts like a child." He concludes, running his fingers through his hair as he lets you get an ice cream of your choice. Oddly, seeing a bright smile on your face as you show him what flavor you got seems to put him at ease.

The two of you got home at dawn, with quickly stacking up the groceries into the cabinets and fridge, with you slumping down on the now squeaky clean couch.

It had been quite a long day and you found yourself dozing off. You woke up from the light tap on your shoulder, eyes fixating on Sunghoon with your apron wrapped around his torso.

"I could get used to this." You thought, admiring how adorable the humanoid looked but quickly pushing the thoughts away.

"Sorry to wake you, it's time for dinner." He announces and you lazily nodded, not before yawning and stretching your arms.

"Uhh, what is this?" You asked, eyeing your plate.

"It's your dinner." He says nonchalantly, expecting you to start eating. Your face shows utter disgust at the plate of vegetables.

"Please don't make me eat that." You begged. Sunghoon rolls his eyes; a trait he adapted from spending just a day with you.

"Don't be dramatic, vegetables are good for you." He states, taking the plate from you and attempting to feed you.

"Come on, say ah." He says playfully. After realizing how much you acted like a child, he researched on how to take care of children and downloaded it into his database. You scrunch your nose, leaning away from the food and shooting him a glare.

"Sunghoon, I'm not a kid." You deadpanned.

"Oh, but you won't get your ice cream if you don't eat this." He says, pouting at you teasingly. He's really good at this. With a sigh, you open wide and allow him to feed you.

"Yep, definitely a kid." He thinks to himself as he smiles in satisfaction, another emotion unlocked.

That night, you decided to move his charging port (with his help) from the lab into the spare room of the apartment.

"You know, I'm completely okay with staying at the lab." He reasoned but you quickly hush him.

"Nope. That is no way to treat a person. You deserve your own room, okay? A room that you can fill with your own stuff and decorate with your own preferences. End of discussion." You sassed as you fix his charging port into place. Sunghoon blinked at you, unable to express how grateful he is of how kind you are to him.

"She wants to treat me like a real human being." He thinks, his mechanical heart overwhelmed with gratitude.

Days went on with a routine, with him cleaning all day and you attending online classes. There were occasional bumps in the road, with you getting annoyed with how much of a neat freak he is and him getting irritated with how lazy you are at taking care of yourself. You've also taught him how to watch tv, deciding not to let him use the internet yet because he might gain too much unnecessary information online.

And so on a saturday night, you sat together on the couch as you watched figure skating competitions. Sunghoon was at complete awe the whole time, studying how the skaters moved through the ice.

"I want to skate too." He states absentmindedly, attention still on the television. You smiled, thinking how it was the first time he actually said he wanted something.

"Then let's do it, let's go skating tomorrow." You say, his head immediately shot to you.

"What, really?" Sunghoon asks in disbelief, his eyes widening.

"Yes, really. Although I'm warning you, I don't know how to skate." You laughed, with him chuckling as well.

"Then we'll learn together." He promises.

What a total lie that is. He didn't need to learn, as you watched him move swiftly against the ice, the wind in his hair as he circled around, his focused eyes twinkling in the fairy lights. He looked ethereal. You could have sworn there were tears there as you cheered him on like a proud momma. Ah, they grew up so fast.

People at the park also stopped to watch Sunghoon, whispering about how talented the young man is. His eyes caught yours, and you weren't sure if you were seeing things but you thought you saw him send you a wink and smile.

"The TV been teaching him things." You muttered, blushing but not from the cold. Sunghoon skates towards you, pulling you with him. You're eyes widened in fear.

"N-no Sunghoon I can't—" but he was already leading you through the ice, eyes never leaving yours.

"You can." He whispers, taking you by the waist as he spun you around. You giddily laughed as you threw your arms out, savouring the chilly air. You didn't even notice the people watching and cooing at you as some joined in as well.

That night, Sunghoon felt something he never felt before, and you in a long time. You felt happy.

"Say aaaah~" Sunghoon said as he fed you chicken soup. You caught a cold from skating yesterday and now you're wrapped in a super cozy blanket with Sunghoon worrying about you.

"You know I can feed myself right?" You said, swallowing the food.

"I know, but I just feel responsible because I was the one who wanted to skate. You got sick because of me, and that kinda defeats my purpose because I'm supposed to be keeping you healthy." He rambled. You roll your eyes at him.

"Colds are normal, okay? Besides, I haven't had that much fun in a while. Thank you for that, Sunghoon." You say, reaching up to tussle his hair playfully. He froze, cogs in his mind unable to process as something inside him stirred, but in a pleasant way.

--

"So you dance while rubbing your body on a stranger?" Sunghoon questions, but he's not sure if he wants to know the answer. Tonight, you wore a simple black dress that teasingly showed a little bit of cleavage and a decent length of fabric that hugged tightly around your upper thighs but had a daringly high slit. Sunghoon approves and disapproves at the same time.

"Yeah, it's kinda like that. But don't worry, I won't be doing that. I'll just stay by the bar the whole time." You reassured as you struggled to put on your strappy heels. Sunghoon kneels down infront of you and helps you clasp the straps around your ankles, handling it very delicately. Your heart thumps as he looks up at you.

"Are you sure you don't want me to accompany you?" He asks for the fifth time as he follows you around the house like a puppy. You sigh, actually considering it. Although it was supposed to be a girl's night according to Yeonmi, you thought maybe having Sunghoon tag along wouldn't do harm.

But it did. It did harm to you, alright. And you wanted to harm those girls who kept on grinding their asses onto Sunghoon as slow, sexy music played. You were fuming, regretting dressing Sunghoon in such fashion that screamed big D energy. Why am I being so possessive? But then again, Sunghoon does look uncomfortable. I should go save him. Yeah, I'll do that.

"Hold my drink." You tell Yeonmi as you made your way to Sunghoon.

"You go girl! Get your man!" Yeonmi cheered drunkly.

Your train of thoughts were blurred by the alcohol as you struggled to walk straight. You had only one clear thought in mind: Sunghoon. I need to get to Sunghoon.

Sunghoon stood uncomfortably, eyeing the girls who rubbed their bossoms and derriere all over him. Is this supposed to be fun? He thinks innocently. He sees you walking towards him, swaying your hips side by side as you strode towards him like a predator.

Girls hovering around him going unnoticed as you were the only one he could see.

Stunning, beautiful. He thought.

"Hey handsome, care to dance?" You asked, pulling him to you before he could even answer. The girls spat at you, telling you to 'get in line' but you just shot them a smug look.

"Sorry ladies." Sunghoon apologized, but his smile told otherwise as he let you pull him away from them.

"You don't know how badly I wanted to get away from—" He froze in his spot as you wrap your arms around his neck, inching closer than ever before. You felt bold, but maybe that was just the alcohol in your system. And as you started moving your body against Sunghoon, you knew it wasn't just you who felt the heat. His large palms go down south, resting on your swaying hips as both of you moved to the sultry rhythm.

His mechanism was going nuts, threatening to malfunction as his sensors detected your very close proximity to him. Whatever you were playing, it was dangerous. But Sunghoon couldn't help but to want more, to desire more.

"Y/N." He whispers, and you look up at him with half lidded eyes. And damn did he find you so sexy right there, under the strobe lights. No girl in the club could ever compare.

"Home?" You suggested.

"Home." He agrees.

As you got in the cab, you immediately find yourself half straddling Sunghoon's lap as you attempt to kiss him. Luckily, Sunghoon can think clearer now and concludes that a drunk Y/N is a very horny Y/N. And though the thought that it was only the alcohol that made you want him made him feel sad, he knew it was wrong to demand such things from you.

And so with your futile attempts to get into his pants, he gently lays your head on his shoulder and hugs you to keep you still. But even that couldn't stop you from squirming to get away from his hold, trying to get some action. He chuckles as he held your hand tightly in his to prevent it from landing into his crotch.

"Now now, you have to stay put. I won't be taking advantage of your state." He scolds gently. And by the time the cab had stopped in front of the building of your apartment, you were fast asleep in Sunghoon's arms.

Times like these were when Sunghoon is glad he was made of aluminum. He scooped you up in his arms like a pillow as he walked up to your apartment. You snuggled up into his chest, looking so innocent as you soaked up his warmth. Sunghoon cooed about how adorable you are, talking to you in your sleep.

He placed you delicately on your bed, contemplating whether to change your clothes or not. He decided not to, noting how your privacy is important to you. You're too drunk and asleep to give him permission right now anyway. He took off your heels and wiped your makeup off very gently, and tucked you in properly.

Long minutes pass as he studies your face, stroking your hair softly as the corners of his mouth lift up unconsciously. He really loves taking care of you. He loves you.

This realization hits him like a truck of overwhelming emotions, but it all makes sense to him now.

"I love you, Y/N." He whispers, leaving a soft kiss on your forehead before retiring to his own room.

[janaem]

i like you

"man, he doesn't like me." you sighed resting your head on the palms of you hands. tears were stinging your eyes, for you felt nothing but disappointment and grief. but then again, those were the feelings that often came with having a crush.

___, your friend, cocks an eyebrow, "uhh, what the fuck? yes, he does. he just doesn't show it, give him time."

you furrowed your eyebrows, giving your friend a skeptical look, "and...how long are you gonna say this exactly? It's been years it seems..." you swallowed a lump in your throat, thinking back to all the times you've tried to catch his attention and start up conversations with him. if it was effective, you wouldn't have been stuck in this depressing mental space.

___ shrugged, "yeah, well, it does takes a while for boys to come around," they smirked looking at the teacher's whiteboard, "my ex is a perfect example."

still, a bunch of thoughts started occupying your mind as you watched the teacher project today's lesson onto the board. it's been months since you've started liking ___, and all you've ever wanted was for him to acknowledge you a little more than he did. because to you, it seemed that he has liked your first, way before you started noticing and liking him back.

the sexual tension between you two was rather noticeable. constantly catching each other's gazes in class (sometimes they would turn into staring contests), all those times where he would physically get close to you without saying a word, you would even catch him looking at you while whispering to his friends. all these things, yet neither of you had made a single move.

not like you had a problem, you enjoyed the attention he gave you. that's probably why you started crushing on him in the first place.

you've been pondering on the idea of making the first big move, but you've done that to your last crush and that steered them in the other direction. but every crush is different, maybe ___ might even admit his true feelings instead of hiding. he was sorta the type to be bold—in his own way. he made things direct, but indirect at the same time, and it kind of frustrated you, let alone disappointed you, but you were more disappointed in yourself than you were of him.

you shook off the thoughts that were constantly attacking you, and did your best to keep up with your notes.

"don't look...oh god, please don't look." you pleaded to yourself quietly, silently fighting the urge to see if your crush was looking at you. you stared blankly at you notes, head faced down to avoid any eye contact with anyone

___ was, in fact, eyeing you. watching closely as you tried to keep your composure. you sat in a slouched position, gripping your pencil, you bit your inner cheek fighting the temptation to even spare a quick glance.

"....okay, so i want everyone to come to this table for a demonstration." the teacher announced pointing at the large wooden table in the back.

the boys stood on one side while the girls were on the other side. that was until a few other students joined and mixed things up. the teacher stood at the head of the table, talking and talking away about more of today's lesson. you felt a little more better, your crush was out of your mind for now, so this time you were all ears and watching the teacher.

you weren't thinking of it, but you wish you hadn't. you spared a quick glance at ___, who was right across from you, his hand supporting him as he leaned onto the table. body slightly turned to the teacher, yet his eyes were right on you.

your stomach immediately dropped and you turned your attention back to the teacher, acting as if nothing happened.

once the bell rang, signalling the end of the school day, you immediately gathered your things.

"hey, ___, since your locker is closest to the band room, could you grab my instrument for me? I'll meet you downstairs in front of the school so we can walk together." your friend asked as you btoh exited the classroom. their locker was all the way downstairs and the band room was two stories above, exactly where your locker was.

"yeah, i'll see you later." you said turning the corner and heading up the long flights of stairs.

a part of you really dreaded this assignment because your crush also goes into the band room after school. even though he was quite popular, he was also a band kid.

once you were done packing your things, you hesitantly reached the band room door. peeking in to see no one was there, you felt a wave of relief as you entered the room.

there were stacks of instrument cases on the floor and on the shelves. how on earth were you supposed to find your friend's instrument? you couldn't possibly search the hundreds of nametags.

you decided to whip out your phone from your pocket and texted them 'where in the room do u usually put your instrument?'

meanwhile, you took a look around yourself waiting for your friend to text back. that was until the door swung open abruptly, resulting you to flinch on the stop.

you turned around to see ___ walking in, running a hand through his hair once once he saw you.

you immediately turned your attention back to the instruments. your heart pounds in your chest rapidly, as if it was about to rip out of your chest. you had to lean onto the shelf for support it was beating so fast. the pressure on your eyes was unbearable as you tried not to look at him again.

"hey, uh, are you looking for ___'s, instrument?"

you immediately snapped your neck in his direction, you honestly did not know how to act.

"yeah...you know where it is?" you felt a sudden buzz in your hand. you assumed it was your friend telling you where it was. what's it gonna hurt relying on your crush?

it's just above mine, we play the same instrument." he said tilting his head slightly in the direction of the shelf of instrument cases.

you were practically froze in your spot, not knowing if he wanted you to come closer to him. you just stood there and nodded, and ___ gave you a questioning look.

the silence was loud in the small band room, your heart beat increasing didn't seem to help.

you just couldn't look at him. you weren't sure why he was able to look at you...maybe he really doesn't like you and just sees you as a regular girl at school. well, that's how he's been treating you for the past months...so why were your expectations so high all the time when all you got was nothing?

"you don't have to get it, i'll get it myself." you said reluctantly breaking the silence. you walked over to where your crush was, the space between the two of you was very slim. you didn't think much of it as you grabbed your friend's instrument and then his from the shelf.

turning around, you felt something faintly brush against your bottom, that's when you immediately noticed that ___ was dangerously close to you. once again, the adrenaline in your stomach started up again, you awkwardly turned around, handing ___ his instrument.

__ stammered, realizing how uncomfortable you were, "oh um sorry, i didn't realize-"

"it's okay." you said starting to head towards the door.

"__, wait."

you turned around, completely stunned that he had just said your name for the first time in a long time, "yeah?" you honestly wanted to hear him say it again.

"there's uh...something i need to tell you," he set his instrument down next to his foot and dug his hands into his pocket.

"what is it?" you said inching towards him a bit. you could see ___ starting to get a bit nervous under your stare. he fidgeted in his spot, but he still managed to maintain eye contact.

__ ran his hand through his hair, "i think i like you."

'wait what!? oh my gosh this is not happening!' you said excitedly in your head, you instead furrowed your eyebrows in 'confusion,'

"elaborate." you deadpanned, crossing your arms. but in your mind, you completely understood how he felt, because that's exactly how you felt about him. you tried so hard not to run  around  and squeal excitedly like a maniac.

"look, i know this may sound creepy, and you may get a bit paranoid after i say this." he swallowed hard, as if there was a lump in his throat.

"no matter what i do, who i'm with, or where i am, i just can't stop thinking about you."

you forgot how to breathe at this very moment , was he just saying this? or was he being genuine? because with the way he has been acting for the past months, you didn't know what to believe anymore.

___ took a few steps towards you, "you're all i think about, you're all i ever wanna talk about."

you raised your eyebrows a bit, you've never heard something like this come out of his mouth before.

"there are so many things i want to do with you, but there are things holding me back, and i fucking hate it."

you just stood there in silence, watching as he anxiously ran his hand through his hair again, "fuck, i—no one has ever made me feel this way before."

everything seemed to move fast from there, yet it felt like it was in slow motion. wasting no time, you carelessly dropped the instrument on the floor, your body started to move on its own once you started walking up to ___, lovingly extending your arms and gave him the tightest embrace you could ever give someone.

the tension has suddenly melted away into obscurity, it was like two lost souls have been brought together after such a long time.

___ slowly snaked his arms around you, "i've been wanting to do this for a long time." he whispered, you shivered feeling his soft breath against your neck.

you didn't want to let go, and neither did he. ___ took the opportunity to kiss the part where your jaw and your ear met. you turned your head to face him. both of your faces were only inches away as ___ removed one of his arms from you to place his hand on your cheek. you closed your eyes, feeling his lips touch yours softly, pulling your body closer with his other arm.

you kissed back, deepening the kiss even more. you honestly didn't think this moment would come. you longed to stay like this forever, oh you wish you did.

you two parted for a quick second, with your eyes half lidded you saw ___ smile a bit, leaning into kiss you again. this time, the kiss was a bit rougher. ___ trailed his hand down your cheek and passed the sensitive spot of your neck. you softly gasped feeling his hand wrap around your neck, his other hand stroked your back slowly ...

suddenly, your phone buzzed, breaking the hypnosis you two were in. the two of you reluctantly parted, and you removed your arms form around ___ and reached into your pocket and took out your phone. It was a text message from your friend.

'coming down? :)' it said.

you widened your eyes in realization, "oh shit i gotta go!" you grabbed you grabbed your friend, ___'s, instrument case.

"can i at least get your number, ___?" your crush asked pulling out his phone.

"uh sure," you said pulling up your information, "here it is."

once you were finished exchanging numbers, ___ pulled you in for one last kiss. then you picked up the instrument case and dashed out the door. ___ followed soon after, but you were well down the stairs before he could see you one last time today.

you both couldn't wait to see each other the next day.

[leejeongz]

fluffy a-z JAY (enhypen)

requested: yes, by anon

a/n: as if i didn’t have a phat crush on him before </3 jay tunnel vision shall continue until the end of time. thanks for requesting!

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

he’s very “selective” about his pda, an arm around your waist or your shoulder is enough for him and when he wants to be cute, a bop on your nose. when in private, he’s pretty much the same. he respects your personal space and doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries. when he’s “asleep” next to you though his arms MAY fall around you and start to hug you superrrr loosely :)). it’s not that he doesn’t like physical affection, he’s all for it, but he’s not sure if you are if you're not the one intitiating it. (taken from my enhypen as boyfriends post)

most of his affection is shown through endearing smiles and words of affirmation. he’s constantly staring at you with loving eyes, thinking of how he never wants the moment to end. he doesn’t say things when he doesn’t mean them, everything that comes out of his mouth is honest and sincere, when he tells you that he loves you, or that he’s proud of you, or that he’s happy to be yours, he really means it.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

jay would literally start a conversation with anyone, he just happened to start a conversation with you one day, and you both realised pretty quickly that this wasn’t just going to be a one off chat. you were laughing and joking the whole time, and it became a regular thing whenever you saw each other since your schedules often lead you both to the same place at the same time.

i think he would be such a supportive best friend :(. one who knows you better than you know yourself, one who takes the time to learn every little thing about you, one who is literally like a brother to you. jay likes to teach you things, he likes to help you when you ask or when he can see you struggling. he is someone that you can rely on and someone that will listen and help you without judging you.

you become part of his friendship group since you get along with them all so well. he likes it that way as he can spend more time with you rather than having to disappoint one to be with another.

C = Comfort (How do they comfort their partner?)

he’s so concerned whenever he sees you upset or anxious :( he just wants to let you know that it’s okay to feel that way and that he’s here to protect you, but he doesn’t want you to feel suffocated by him when you’re clearly not feeling too good.

if he saw you crying, he’d be firstly asking what’s making you upset, asking “why, why, why?” in a cute tone with a little pout on his face. he’d have you in his arms too, holding your head closer to him so that you can cry onto his sounder or onto his shirt. his main aim is just to let you know that he’s there and that he’s all yours in that moment. after you’ve told him what was making you feel so upset, he’d either try to make a joke of the situation if it’s not that serious, or he’d help you come up with a realistic solution to your problem. he’d probably let out a lot of sympathy noises too, little “hmms” and “awws” because he wants you to know that he’s listening and hopefully you feel comforted by that.

if your ever feeling anxious, jay just wants you to know that he understands. he’s willing to help you in any way he possibly can (within reason) and helps you to push yourself whenever you’re feeling confident enough to do so without taking things too far. he always tells you how proud he is of you and how you’re doing so great. he wouldn’t laugh at you or try to make you feel silly for your anxieties and worries, however bizarre and foreign they may be to him, he actively tries to understand and sometimes researches more, not forgetting to tell you that you’re not alone.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How about kids? Marriage? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

i mean, we all know he’s good at cooking! he likes to show off his culinary skills for you whenever he can and would rather have a home cooked meal over a takeaway too. he also likes the house to be clean and tidy, but whoever makes the mess should clean it of course, and he’s not afraid to complain when you leave a room with it looking like a pigsty.

settling down is a very very big thing for jay. he won’t think about it lightly. the relationship has to be special, he knows when the right time to settle down is and which person is the right person, he won’t rush into it with just anyone.

i don’t think he’d care for marriage to be honest. as long as he knows that you love him and that you know that he loves you, that’s all the matters, you don’t need a certificate or a ceremony for that. in the future, jay probably wants to have kids, just 1, maybe 2, but it’s not so important that he’d break off the relationship if you didn’t want to have kids.

E = Equal (Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?)

he really wants it to be equal. he doesn’t want to feel like either of you have more power than/over the other. you don’t have to act in accordance with anything that he says and his doesn’t have to act in accordance with what you say, you may be in a relationship but you’re still two separate people and should be seen as that. so, for that reason, he doesn’t want a dominant/submissive (passive (?)) relationship with you in everyday life, he just wants you both to feel like you are your own people.

F = Feelings (How did the confession go down?)

he would get SO nervous whenever he thought about confessing to you, his hands would get all sweaty and clammy and he’d go completely silent. but, saying that, he is also rather excited to confess, because that’s one step closer to being yours <3. if it didn’t come out by accident, i.e him just spewing out “because i like you” after you asked him why he teased you, i think he’d do it in a rather meaningful way. just the two of you, alone, (so that you can kiss him if you want to hehe), maybe even buy you a small little gift and hands it to you while telling you how much you mean to him.

G = Giggle (What makes him laugh?)

when you compliment him. oh gosh this boy goes all blush and giggly when you compliment him, especially when you’re in the dating phase.

when you give someone a deserved shouting at. watching you stand up for yourself makes him overwhelmed with pride, but he can’t help but laugh at the person you’re giving the grief to, just because of how tiny and small you’re making them look.

when you wear his clothes for the first time. of course, you look cute, but the mismatch of items really makes him laugh, he just has to let it out while engulfing you in a hug.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

aww jay is definitely a back hugger. coming up behind you, wrapping his arms around you and waddling around aimlessly with your back pressed against his chest. sometimes he says nothing at all, he just appreciates you and your complaints of how he’s distracted you. other times, he just asks about your day, general small talk really, before walking to bed with you to cuddle and chat some more.

less frequently, he’ll give in and hug you normally, resting his chin on your shoulder and smiling, wondering why he doesn’t do it more often. as he pulls away, he places a gentle kiss on your forehead and tells you that he loves you, or that he’s missed you while he’s been working.

I = Instant (Do they believe in love at first sight?)

claims that he doesn’t because he thinks it’s shallow to base your feelings off of just someone’s appearance. he’s a little confused as to how you can fall in love with someone just by seeing their face, not even talking to them ?

actually, he does believe in it, he just needed to experience it to know. the aura and vibes that you give off attracts him to you in that moment. he feels a connection without even having to talk to you, he just knows that there is something there.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

he kind of loves it when he sees that people are interested in you. like yeah you’re hot, but you’re also all his, and he’s gonna show them hehe. he’d be all over your like a rash, kissing you delicately so that you don’t get suspicious or feel uncomfortable, or resting his hand on your lower back to let everyone know that they can’t have you.

if he sees you talking to a guy, he’s not gonna get pressed about it. he’s not going to ask you millions of questions about what you were talking about and who he is or whatnot, he actually loves seeing you smile from across the room and he doesn’t care who it is that is making you smile so yeah.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

shoulder ❗️ kisses ❗️ when he’s spooning you while you’re sleeping. when he senses someone is interested in you in public he’ll just stand behind you and kiss your shoulder. god he’s so cute without even realising BYE. (taken from my enhypen as boyfriends post). he also likes to kiss your hand, prince charming, eat your heart out.

he likes to initiate kisses, all of them. he smiles as he leans in, his tongue pushing against the back of his teeth making his smile more radiant. he starts with a few tiny little pecks, reaching for your head whether you’re sitting or standing. the kiss naturally deepens and his body language mimics yours. when you kiss, you truly become one. kisses like this are heated, but don’t happen all that often.

L = Love Confession (How fast do they say the L-word?)

saying the L word is a very big deal to him, he really has to be in love, and he has to have been in love for a while before he can say it.

honestly, before he actually said it, he’d been thinking about it for days. every time he looked at you, he wanted to say it. you were talking to him, but he wasn’t concentrating on what you were saying, even if he really did look like it. you finished your sentence and almost immediately after you did so, jay said it, those three words. he was so content that he’d said it too, a small smile appearing on his face which grew bigger the more he thought about it.

M = Memory (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

the time you bought matching rings for you and him! he remembers you dropping off the small gift bag at his door a few days after you’d been shopping with your friends. he opened it up to find a black ring with a moon shape carved of it, and a picture of your hand wearing the matching ring. he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t cry, scurrying back to his room to put it on straight away. he’d constantly be fidgeting with it, spinning it around his finger and thinking about you as he does so. when you two were together, he’d bring up the rings a lot, he would never be able to get over how cute they were, but he’d always be a little bummed out that you were too shy to give it to him in person.

N = No (What's their pet peeve?)

dirtiness. leaving a mess anywhere. just clean it up if you can, stop relying on him to always pick things up when you leave them lying around. he can sometimes tolerate it, but it builds up to the point where he has to complain about it because it’s getting too much.

O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their significant other?)

green. sage green particularly.

everything with you is so natural and fresh. you were such a new character when you came into his life, you were and still are like no one that he’s ever met before. he felt he could trust you and be himself around you instantly. you bring him comfort even though you’re someone that he’s never seen before.

P = Petnams (What pet names do they call their other half?)

baby, babygirl/babyboy, honey, sweetheart, prince/princess all that good stuff.

his favourite name to call you, though, is darling. especially when you two are alone, he thinks “darling” is so much more classy, intimate and loving, which perfectly describes your relationship.

he also calls you beautiful a lot (because that’s what u are hehe). that’s more so for when he’s asking you a question, though, especially when he’s buying something for you. “do you want this, beautiful?” ahh he’s so cute :(

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

he doesn’t have to remember, he just knows. knowing things about you is like knowing things about himself, he’s always ready and prepared for you to quiz him on anything because there’s no way that he can be wrong about it. even the stuff that you mention just briefly, he knows it. he’s also a very good judge of character, i think, so some things you don’t even have to tell him, he just knows.

oh and he LOVES to tell other people too. you’re his favourite topic of conversation, he could talk about you for hours and never run out of positive things to say.

R = Rainy day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

he doesn’t really care about the rain, he would just get on with his day as usual if he could. but not everyone wants to go out when it’s pouring down and he appreciates that so,,, did someone say karaoke??? he’s gonna be belting out high notes and rapping like his life depends on it. even if you’re not the usual type to join in, something about his energy makes you wanna get up and dance.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

you're his pride and joy, he’s going to do everything in his power to protect you. he believes that you can protect yourself, of course he does, and he doesn’t want to hurt you more than the thing he’s protecting you from, but he’s ready to intervene when he senses that things aren’t going as they should be.

if he can tell that you’re getting uncomfortable by someone’s presence, he’ll confront them and ask them to give you some space. he can get a little loud and aggressive with it when necessary too because no one should be made to feel like that.

it’s quite clear that jay isn’t the controlling type of boyfriend and so you don’t have to be worried about him being possessive. although he’d appreciate it if you told him where you’re going, just for his own peace of mind that should something happen to you, he at least knows where to find you.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

okay so i see jay as the type of guy who cares more for memories than materialistic things, so that would definitely be reflected in the gifts he gives too. would probably book a vacation for the pair of you, or a spa day for you or something along those lines for your birthday or big anniversaries. also for your birthday, he likes to write you handwritten letters every year, detailing how grateful he is to have you by his side and how proud he is of the person you are today. saying all that though, for 100 days together, he did buy you a giant teddy which he noticed you kept propped up on your desk chair. he even named it for you too :((.

dates with jay are really chill and relaxed during the day. they mostly consist of shopping or watching a movie at home and are very much “at your own pace”. he likes that you can both just be yourselves, especially when you are only in that dating phase, as he feels he can get to know you better. he loves to please you too!! he’d rather do something that you enjoy, even if he doesn’t particularly enjoy the activity himself, because he gets to see you smile <33. more intense dates usually come in the form of dinner dates, where you dress up and have a sit down meal somewhere. he puts in a heck of a lot of effort into these, he’ll be planning and arranging things for days before because he really wants to impress you (which of course, he does). he brushes up on his knowledge of the food that is on the menu and on the correct etiquette for the date because that’s really important to him.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

he loves to game. he has games on his phone, on his pc, on the tv, just about everything he owns, he can game on. so sometimes you get ignored if he’s gaming :(. he’d LOVE LOVE LOVE if you joined in, or if you asked questions or what not, but when he’s in the zone, he’s there for a good while and you just cannot seem to get him out of it. (call jungwon to turn his game off if necessary ❗️he’s experienced and willing)

V = Vulnerability (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

he doesn’t want to tell you things too soon. he doesn’t want you to use them against him and hurt him just as he’s starting to fall for you. but he understands that the only way that things can develop is by telling you more and more about himself. i think you’d have to start it off, telling him some of the things that have shaped you into the person you are today, before he starts listing off the hardships that he’s had to endure in order to get to where he is now.

by the time you’re in a relationship, he trusts you completely. you know things about each other that no one else, not even the people closest to you, know.

W = Why (Why do they love their partner?)

you make him feel wanted, like he has a purpose, a role to play. when he feels like giving up, you’re there to help him back onto his feet. you give him a reason to do everything he wants to do and more. you appreciate him in ways that no one else has ever done, made him feel things that no one has ever made him feel, you’re someone he’s never had in his life before, and he loves you for it.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

boyfriend jay gives you the best massages, out of the blue. when he sees you sat at his gaming chair, his hands immediately come to massage your shoulders. when you lie with your feet on his lap while sitting on the couch, he starts massaging them gently while you watch tv. just as you got done working out, he’s be there with a nice ice cold bath already run and some spa music playing in the background while he rubs your thighs and calves. he knows he’s good at them and puts his skill to good use whenever he can :D.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, but other people love in a relationship?)

engaging in constant pda. just yuck, he wants his own space and he doesn’t understand how you can’t want yours either. he wants to eat and drink without you latched onto his arm, and he wants to be able to stand in line without needing to hug you or vice versa. it’s not that he doesn’t want to show off your relationship, he just doesn’t think that PDA necessary all the time.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

sleeping with his eyes open lmao. kinda creepy but you know he can’t help it, he doesn’t even know that he’s doing it so 🤷🏻‍♀️.

to conclude, jay, this is an official proposal pls be our bestie/boyf

[graniairish]

Walking on eggshells

So this is my first own story here. I hope it is written in an understandable way. (Please ignore any grammatical errors. English is not my mother tongue.)

Title: Walking on eggshells

Words: 6761

Warnings: language (some explicit words), harassment and insults, heartbreak

Summary:

Daryl and reader have been close friends since the early days in Atlanta. They are deeply in love with each other but have no clue about it.

At some point new people join the community, including a young woman who is immediately after Daryl.

Reader is not exactly thin, no size zero, but also not fat, rather curvy, feminine. Even in this apocalyptic time. (you are just the way you are.)

Daryl has withdrawn more and more from reader, avoids contact. Reader believes he does that because he now has a perfect woman by his side.

However, Daryl avoids reader because he does not know how to deal with his feelings.

One day reader goes on a run that goes wrong. To save their group, the reader does a suicide stunt, that can cost her life.

--------------------------------------------------

"Ya even know what ya're doin’?"

Those were the first words Daryl Dixon had ever said to you.

It was still at camp in Atlanta. Daryl stood over you, the sun behind him, as he looked down at you as you made a stew from a basket full of leaves and mushrooms.

“Believe it or not, I know what I'm doing here. My mother taught me as a child which mushrooms and plants are edible, and which can be used as medicine."

He nudged his nose up in a nod.

"If ya say so."

With that he dropped something in front of you.

"Maybe the whole thin’ tastes like somethin’ with that," he said before he turned around and made his way back to his brother.

Your eyes followed him - confused. Only then did you notice that he had thrown about a dozen freshly hunted squirrels in front of you.

Maybe the grumpy redneck was not that bad after all, you thought to yourself with a smile as you started to skin and gut the dead animals.

It was not long before a friendship developed between you. You were the only one he really let near him after the disappearance of his brother and Sophia's death. And after the farm was overrun by Walkers, he was by your side to comfort you.

He was always there for you, just as you were for him. You cared for each other.

But you only noticed how deep the feelings really were on your side when Daryl - after the incident with Woodbury - had turned his back on you and everyone else and disappeared into the woods. Just to be with his brother.

The realization that you were infinitely in love with the withdrawn redneck hit you hard. And just seeing him walk away hurt you so much that you could not breathe.

Without knowing it, Daryl had broken your heart into a million pieces.

It felt like he took a part of you with him.

More and more you withdrew from the others. From time to time, you even slept in the old management office of the Prison, far away from the cell block, from everyone else, from your family. You just wanted to be left alone in your grief and heartbreak.

In the first time you had gone through hell emotionally and a psychological breakdown would not have been long in coming. And if it had not been for Maggie, you probably would not have found your way back.

She had been your solid rock and, without you really noticing, had become your best friend - your sister.

And after a while it got better. It did not hurt that much anymore. Although it was not quite true. It still hurt - hurt infinitely - but the distances that those waves of grief hit you grew larger.

And then suddenly Daryl was back.

It was a shock to you.

And the moment he moved back into his cell in the cell block, you moved out. There was no trace of you or your belongings in the whole building anymore.

Quietly, and without anyone noticing, you moved into the management's office - permanently. The thought of being so close to him - physically - without actually being able to be close to him was just unbearable for you.

And so you had retreated.

Daryl did not seem to mind. It almost seemed as if he had not even really noticed it.

You hardly had any contact with each other. He rarely talked to you, and if he did, then only what was necessary and as monosyllabic as possible. He even seemed to be avoiding you.

But that's how life works - hard and unfair.

And you cannot choose who to fall in love with.

The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love, and be loved in return. But it only worked like that in movies and love songs, right? It did not work that way in real life, at least not for you.

As time goes by you had devoted all your concentration to your small farm. Your mother taught you how to handle plants as a child. In your previous life - before the apocalypse - you also had a vegetable garden with which you mostly tended yourself. So you knew the job and it was easy for you.

You lived in your own little world where you worked side by side with Rick and spent your meager free time with Maggie. Sometimes Carol would join you, but you had already noticed that she somehow always dropped a few comments about Daryl.

You did not want to talk about the redneck, let alone think about him. So, you ignored her as best you could - or at least her suggestions.

But it was not that easy. Your whole prison family knew how deep your feelings were for Daryl. No matter how hard you try to hide it, hide yourself from it.

Then Woodbury fell. New people came to the Prison and with them a young woman - Michelle. Probably only in her mid-twenties, model type, blonde, pretty. A typical homecoming queen.

To you, she made it seem like she had never worked hard in her entire life. She was the type of person who always muddled through, for her own benefit.

And just a few days after moving in, she was permanently on Daryl's heels. She asked questions, talked to him, spent most of the days near him.

But worst of all, she was openly flirting with the man you loved, and he did not seem to mind. Your stomach cramped painfully at the sight, and you had not been able to eat for two days.

Your heart, painstakingly patched together, broke one more time. After that you had avoided Daryl and his blond girl for almost a week, avoided them like the devil had shunned holy water.

But it could not go on like that. And at a certain point you realized: as long as Daryl was happy, nothing else mattered. At least for you.

To make matters worse, there was that cruel little voice in your head that kept whispering to you why Daryl was interested in Michelle and not you. It kept talking to you, all the time.

And then the little wheels in your head started spinning until you were caught in a vortex of thoughts.

She was thin and delicate; you were rather well built.

Her shoulders were narrow; yours were broad.

Her stomach was flat; but you had unmistakable love handles.

She had a firm, shaped ass; you childbearing hips - as your mother used to call it.

Her golden blonde hair always fell in gentle waves down her back. You always had your y/h/c ones in a messy bun. And after hours of hard work in the gardens, you always looked like a half-plucked chicken.

You would never have any chance of comparing yourself with this beautiful, gorgeous woman. Michelle was perfect.

You were just you.

But the worst part of this whole thing was that this woman could not leave you alone. She had won, the man was hers. What else did she want from you?!

Every now and then she dropped small comments, out of the earshot of others. But so that you could hear them very well.

"Hard to believe how one can be so well fed.”

“Are you secretly eating your way through our supplies?"

"Given your size, a whole bunch of Walkers could get fed up with you for a week."

It hurt, hurt infinitely. But you were willing to endure everything. You did not want to make a scene. Did not want to get upset, maybe to draw more unwanted attention to yourself.

In the depths of your heart, you only wanted one thing. You just wanted Daryl to be happy. Everything else does not matter to you.

But what you failed to notice in all your self-doubt and self-sacrifice was: Daryl was not happy.

You were both blind to each other's intentions, had no idea why the other acted the way he was doing.

But the inner circle of your family, especially Maggie and Carol, knew what was going on. And having to watch the two of you - while you did not notice it yourself - slowly but surely drove everyone to despair.

The whole thing was like a fucking soap opera!

You and Daryl had barely spent time together and avoided each other as best you could, so you had not noticed all the little signs that spoke volumes to all the others.

How his ears turn red when you have been near him.

How he sometimes looked at you a little longer than others.

How he changed his shifts in the guard tower just so he could take care of you when you were near the fences during your work.

The moment Daryl faced you for the first time since his return, the floor was torn from under his feet. When he saw your y/e/c eyes looking at him, he felt his heart swell. Warmth spread in his chest and he had thousands of butterflies in his stomach. The redneck had never felt anything like that before and it terrified him.

It was something he could not handle.

He knew he screwed up when he left you because of his brother. The way you behaved towards him was unmistakable. Daryl did not want to endanger the little friendship that was still between you. He could not risk losing you for good.

So he gave you your freedom and just adored from a distance - without you noticing.

But from a certain point in time all his thinking was focused only on you. Or rather, to hide what he really felt about you - how much he loved you.

Daryl was so busy hiding the love he felt for you that he did not even notice how much this young woman from Woodbury was constantly flirting with him. Of course, it had not escaped him that she ran after him like a lost puppy; and yes that annoyed him.

But weren't all of these newcomers a pain in the ass?

He was not interested in this blonde woman, not a little bit. Daryl does not care about her; he does not even listen to her most of the time.

If he was honest, he did not even know her name.

---------------------------------

In the last few weeks, it had become routine for the redneck to be on guard duty in the early hours of the morning. Not just because he was an early riser- and finally got some peace up here from the intrusive people from Woodbury - but because you went to work in the vegetable gardens shortly after sunrise every day.

And from high up there he had the opportunity to watch and admire you unnoticed.

You have always been used to working hard, and everyone who saw you knew that you had no problem with it and that you could lend a hand. Rick once joked that you could overshadow any Amish when it came to your work ethic. You just shrugged your shoulders and replied that you had no problem with that as long as you didn't have to pray for hours.

So you and Daryl spent the mornings together - without your having a clue about it. You, lovingly watching over the plants in the vegetable patches, he on the guard tower, lovingly watching over you.

As the sun rose higher and higher on its way across the sky, it made the sweat shimmer on your skin as you patiently devoted yourself to each of your tasks without taking a break. The black tank top you wore on that hot summer day stuck to your body and framed it perfectly. Your figure was like an hourglass, and each of your curves came out sensually.

At least as far as Daryl could tell. For him you were perfect, just like you were. He could watch you for hours without getting tired of it, could watch you for the rest of his life.

Only when the crotch of his jeans became uncomfortably tight did the redneck look away from you. His thoughts had taken a suggestive course, and the images that emerged in his head were by far no longer suitable for minors. Daryl would surely spend this evening in his fist again - dreaming of how you would feel lying under him, how you would smell, how you would taste, and what sweet noises would come over your lips if he would touch you where you needed it most.

"Everything's okay," he heard a familiar voice next to him.

Damn it, did the time really go that fast? Was his shift already over?

"Are you okay? You seem a little distracted to me."

Carol had come to relieve him. But Daryl, in his fascination for you, had not even noticed her.

"’m okay."

"Yes, of course, and your thoughts were on the task in front of you the whole time."

There was unmistakable amusement in Carol's voice. With a knowing smile, the woman leaned on the railing and watched you work for a while.

"Can you please finally tell Y/N that you love her. So that we can finally all get on with our lives? It's really not nice to see you two walking around each other on eggshells."

Daryl was embarrassed. He was caught with his hand in the cookie jar by Carol. Still, he tried to stay as cool as possible.

"I have no idea what ya're talkin’ about."

But the woman was not easily fooled. She knew very well what was going on in the man in front of her. Just as she knew how you felt about him.

"I hear what you say, but your ears say something else.”

Daryl flinched. Sometimes he hated the way his body betrayed him.

“What the hell,” Carol had to keep from laughing “I didn't even know that they could get so red."

"Stop it woman."

Again and again, Carol tried to get her friend to finally confess his love to you. Because in her eyes you were both wasting valuable time. And being able to spend time with loved ones was the most important thing now.

You had not noticed any of this. You were too busy tying up the tomato plants and removing the leaves so that they brought the greatest possible yield. After all, many mouths had to be fed, and you all needed supplies for the coming winter.

And it was precisely these necessary supplies that prompted Rick to ask you to go on a run the next day with others. Of course, you immediately agreed, after all, everyone went on these runs at some point. It wouldn't be your first time, and certainly not your last time, that you would take part in something like this.

But who could say that in these uncertain times?

What you did not know at the time was, that Michelle would be there too. Maybe then you would have refused. But now you sat in the back seat of the pickup truck in silence, staring stubbornly out the window.

Michelle just a few inches away from you.

It had been clear to Maggie from the start that this constellation would not bring any good. However, even the young woman would not have expected what dimensions the whole thing would take. And in what a heartbreaking catastrophe it would end.

During the entire journey Glenn and Maggie tried to break the mood. The four of you sat in the truck and drove a few hours until you finally arrived at your destination.

It should be a simple thing - in and out, quietly, quickly, unseen.

But what no one had expected was the behavior that Michelle had displayed when it came to doing her part. She had absolutely no desire to be actually a part in this job.

And Michelle let the three of you feel that very clearly.

She neither wanted to help find the necessary supplies nor carry them; even found it outrageous that she had been asked by Rick to join in and risk her life. She had never had to do this before, why now?

It took you so much strength to stay calm and not yell your opinion on Michelle's face - or beat her across the street.

You did not like this woman, not a bit. For you, she was a narrow-minded, self-centered, selfish slut who cared about only herself. And what Daryl saw in her was incomprehensible to you.

But when Michelle began to risk all of your lives because of her loud behavior, even Maggie's patience ran out. The eternal insults in your direction were just the cherry on top. Maggie would have liked nothing more than to give this snotty brat a huge slap in the face.

But to make a shitty day even more shitty, that was unfortunately your smallest problem.

Michelle's loud complaints drew the attention of more and more walkers, and at some point, you had difficulties getting back to your car.

You had just successfully cleared a pharmacy when you saw the horde slowly approaching on the street.

That was by far the worst scenario, and your greatest fear.

It was all happening so quickly, and the only thing you thought was that Michelle had to make it back to the Prison alive. You could not risk Daryl losing someone he loved again. No matter what a fucking bitch she was. You knew it would destroy him.

The way back to the pickup was long and the Walkers unfortunately closer than wanted. The heavy backpacks did not make it any easier to escape them quickly. So you stayed back when Maggie, Glenn, and Michelle started running back towards the truck. You knew your partners needed a distraction to make it through.

And what could be a better distraction than you.

"Come to me you damn motherfuckers! Here I am! Come and catch me you bloody bastards! You ugly fuckers!" you screamed on top of your lungs, tried to make as much noise as possible.

The walkers slowly turned to you and came to hunt you down - to kill you. You would be their lunch. Scared to death your heart was beating so hard in your chest that you thought it was about to pop out.

From that point on, you could not remember anything. Your brain just shut down, went into survival mode. You only ran on instinct, no more active thinking.

In a way, like the Walkers you tried to escape from.

Maggie turned when she heard your voice, and the blood froze in her veins. She thought you were right behind her, but you were still near the entrance to the pharmacy and the horde of walkers was on the way to you.

"Y/N!" her voice was desperate.

She was about to turn back to you – to help you - but Glenn could not and would not let that happen.

"Come on Maggie, we have to get the car. We'll come back for her; I promise."

Glenn took his girlfriend's hand and pulled her forcefully with him.

Michelle had not noticed anything of that, she was the first to take a seat in the pickup and firmly locked the passenger door behind her.

When Glenn finally started the engine and Maggie - now in the back seat - turned her eyes back to the pharmacy entrance, you were gone.

Your best friend was in a panic.

"Where is she? Oh my god, where is she?"

Only then did she see you on the canopy of the building - the backpack with the bandages still firmly strapped around you.

"On the roof, Glenn, she's on the roof! We have to get her!" the young woman screamed in desperation.

She could not and did not want to lose her friend. Not now and not like this.

“and preferably before these things figure out how to climb”, was Glenn's addition when he turned the truck and drove towards the pharmacy.

"Are you crazy," squeaked Michelle, "do you want to die just to maybe save her life?"

Maggie's eyes darkened, and Glenn realized immediately that she had now reached the limit. Another word from Michelle and his girlfriend would feed this woman to the Walkers with no trace of guilt.

"You shut up now, bitch! You're to blame for all this shit. If you’d shut your damn mouth and done what we've all done hundreds of times before, none of this would have happened! These fucking things would never have noticed us."

Michelle gasped to give Maggie a neat answer, but Maggie was faster.

"If I hear one more word from you, if you just beep, I'll feed you to these Walkers!"

Michelle's reply was interrupted by the gruesome sound of breaking bones as Glenn brutally drove through the horde of walkers who were now confused and trying to understand what was going on around them.

You were still standing on the roof. Your gaze was focused on the scene before you but not fearful, as if your self was not there at that moment.

"You have to jump," Glenn called to you when he brought the pickup to a stop right under the roof.

And with that you jumped onto the back of the truck. The fall was higher than expected, and there was a thump as you hit the flatbed. Immediately Glenn had accelerated the car again and drove away as fast as he could in the direction of Prison.

Desperate, Maggie kept calling your name, but you just did not answer. Maybe you were in shock. After all, it was not common practice to voluntarily sacrifice oneself as a meal for these monsters.

A few miles out of town, Glenn finally stopped the car, and Maggie was by your side in an instant. But she was not prepared for what she saw. You were passed out and a small pool of blood had formed under your head. The thud she had heard - when you landed - had been your head when it hit the loading wall.

"Oh my God."

Immediately Maggie was at your side, looking for your pulse with trembling hands. And there it was - weak - but she felt it.

"Please open your eyes Y/N/N", the young woman pleaded as she lovingly brushed the hair off your face.

"Maggie?" Glenn's voice was timid, almost frightened, as he stood next to the pickup and stared at your broken body.

"We have to get her to my father as soon as possible!"

Maggie's harsh words seemed to loosen Glenn from his stupor.

"Okay, no problem, I can do that."

And with that Glenn was back behind the wheel and gave full throttle. Maggie stayed with you on the flatbed, took off your backpack and trying to stop the bleeding on your head.

-------------------------------------

Rick and Daryl were in the courtyard of the prison, discussing the next runs when the pickup truck drove through the gates with screeching tires. It was immediately clear to both of them that something bad must have happened.

Without wasting time, the two men ran towards the car.

"What happened", Rick called out.

But Daryl could not hear Glenn’s answer. Everything around him fell silent and vanished when he saw you - bleeding, passed out - in Maggie's arms.

Without thinking further, he jumped on the flatbed and leaned over you. He caressed your pale cheek with trembling fingertips before desperately looking for a pulse on your neck.

Frightened, he held his breath until he felt it, your heartbeat.

Even but so weak.

"We have to take her to my father."

Maggie had not even finished the sentence when Daryl had already taken you in his arms - bridal style - and was on the way to the infirmary with you.

With a lover's desperation, he clung to you as he ran all the way.

“Don't do this to me. I beg ya, please don't die to me."

-----------------------------------

Daryl never left your side for a moment. He sat like a statue and held your hand. He did not say a word, did not move. Neither when Hershel examined you, nor when he sewed your laceration.

He listened quietly to the vet's diagnosis and what he thought might happen in the next few hours or days.

Only when Maggie came with a bowl of water and a cloth to wash off the dirt and blood did he break free.

"Let me …" Daryls voice cracked, and the knot in his throat made it difficult for him to say anything else.

He took everything from Maggie's hand and put it on the little table next to your bed.

The redneck looked broken. The young woman could clearly see how much he loved you. And she knew that if you died, Daryl would vanish. He would just cease to exist.

“I'm so sorry,” Maggie said quietly, and a tear rolled down her cheek, “I thought she was right behind me. But … but she wasn't."

"It's not ya’ fault." Daryl's voice was barely perceptible.

Slowly he dipped the cloth into the warm water and began to carefully wash the blood off your face.

"Daryl I’m ... I’m"

"I know."

“Y/N is strong, she is tough. She will be okay."

Daryl just nodded absently while he concentrated fully on washing the blood off your temple.

And so Maggie left the redneck alone with you in the infirmary.

With trembling hands, he began to clean your neck. Little by little he washed your whole body- took care of you quietly and lovingly- making dirt, blood and sweat disappear, made you as clean as he saw you before you went on that fucking run.

Then he sat there, hour after hour, just looking at you, holding your hand. You looked so fragile. You lay there injured and pale, almost like a corpse. Only your quiet, even breathing told Daryl that you were still with him.

Inside Daryl, everything contracted painfully at the thought that you might not wake up again. Slowly he leaned towards your face. He looked at every birthmark, every wrinkle, every freckle, as if he wanted to burn them into his memory.

“I don't know if ya can hear me,” he finally began with a trembling voice.

“But I ... I ... I “, he had to laugh bitterly.

“’m a bloody coward. Why can' I jus’ say it?"

Daryl took a deep breath, he had to get his fear under control somehow. He had to tell you. He would never forgive himself if he did not do it now.

What if you died.

"I love ya Y/N. 've been in love with ya since ... I actually have no idea how long. But I love ya. I should have told ya much earlier. I don' know why I didn't. But I love ya."

Daryl fought back tears but lost.

"Oh God please, I beg ya, please come back to me. Give me a chance to show ya how much I love ya. Just one chance to prove myself to ya." and with that Daryl collapsed on top of you, crying and sobbing.

----------------------------------

It took you two days to open your eyes again. Two days in which Daryl had not left your side. Two days of going through hell and back again. In which even he had sent a quick prayer or two towards heaven.

It was as if you had been awakened from a deep sleep far too abruptly. And it took a while before you knew where you were. You felt dizzy and tired. Your head hurt like hell. And you were confused.

First, why you were in the infirmary, and second, why Daryl was sitting next to your bed looking like he had not slept in days – your hand in his.

"Hey," he whispered, "how are ya feelin’?"

"Tired", your voice was scratchy from not using it for a long time, "my head hurts."

“You hit ya head bad. Hershel had to patch ya up."

"What happened?"

"Can't ya remember."

"No ... Yes …. but not ... not really ... only up to a certain point."

You were nervous, were not used to Daryl being so close to you. You did not want to make a fuss about yourself, and yet you liked the attention this man was giving you.

“I can still remember the horde of Walkers who came up to me, but then … nothing ... I can't remember what happened then."

You had not noticed that tears had started to run down your temples until Daryl lovingly wiped them away with his thumb.

"Hey ... shh ... take it easy. Everythin’ is okay. Everyone’s fine. Please don't get upset, ya have a concussion. Hershel says ya need a lot of rest now."

And suddenly you were silent. Never before had Daryl spoken to you with such a loving tone in his voice or had touched you in this way. You did not understand what was happening here.

But he said you had a concussion. Perhaps it was to blame for this filter through which you noticed this whole interaction.

“I'll let Hershel know that ya woke up. I'll be right back; promise."

Confused, you looked after the redneck. Something had happened that you had no idea about. But you did not want to worry about it now. Your head hurt too much, and you just wanted to sleep.

---------------------------------------

When you opened your eyes again, Hershel was sitting in the chair on which you had previously seen Daryl.

"It's nice to see you again with your eyes open Y/N," said the older man with a friendly smile, "you worried us very much."

"‘m sorry. "

"It's okay. How do you feel?"

"Okay. Tired, head hurts."

"Something else?"

"No, except that I feel like I'm wrapped in cotton wool."

Hershel sat and listened to you before nodding.

"Daryl said you can't remember what happened."

"Not really."

"Don't worry, that's nothing unusual with this type of head injury."

He patted your shoulder encouragingly.

"Will I be able to remember one day?"

"You know kid, sometimes it is really good not to be able to remember some things."

"Probably."

“But now you should rest first. I know you have questions, but answers will come later. After all, you have to regain your strength."

------------------------------------------

You knew you had slept, but not for how long. Because the next time you opened your eyes, Carol was sitting on that same chair. But there was something else. Could it be that it smelled of her venison ragout?

"How are you, Y/N/N?"

"Still tired, but the headache is almost gone."

"Good to hear. You gave us all a real scare."

"I'm sorry."

"Especially Daryl. I've never seen him so frightened."

You looked questioningly at the older woman next to you. You were used to it that she kept dropping allusions about Daryl - at least when she talked to you. But you just did not understand that statement at all.

Daryl was never afraid of anything. Why would he ...

"Well. Are you hungry?" Carol had a friendly smile on her face when it broke your train of thought.

At that moment, your stomach made a loud rumbling noise.

“I'll take that as a yes,” smirked the gray-haired woman, “Daryl went hunting so that I could cook this. He knows it’s your favorite."

Unsure you looked at Carol before you took the bowl from her hand and slowly began to eat. It was true, that was your favorite food - if there was such a thing at all in times like this.

"You know that he loves you," she suddenly began out of nowhere

"Of course, we are family," did you try to belittle the matter.

“Okay, let's reformulate the whole thing again. Daryl is in love with you, absolutely and one hundred percent madly in love with you. A 'you're the only one for me' love. Without any misunderstanding."

When she said that, you choked on the stew right away and now you sat in front of her, coughing and snorting.

“And I know you love him too. So don't try to deny it at all. Everyone here knows that. Or how blind do you think we are? Although ... apart from Daryl. He has no idea. He probably wouldn't even understand if it bites his ass.”

At this picture you had to laugh.

“Sometimes you have to take a leap of faith in order to reach their goal. You two really have to start talking clearly to each other. You two belong together like pepper and salt Do you actually notice how much you waste your precious time? Neither of us knows how much of it is left. You should know that now, because honey it was damn close."

---------------------------------------------

Sleeping was your main occupation right now. A concussion took time and a lot of rest to heal. So it wasn't uncommon for your life to consist of short scenes at the moment.

With a sound - like a purring cat - you stretched in the hospital bed before opening your eyes. You no longer had any sense of time, and only the sunlight falling through the barred windows told you that it was probably afternoon.

"Hey."

Only now did you notice that Daryl was with you again.

"Ya feel better?"

"Yes."

Daryl seemed kind of nervous. But that wasn't possible, why should he?

"I've been here before, but ya slept and I don't want to wake ya", his words just gushed out of him.

Could it be? Was he nervous?

"Okay ... yes ... uhm ..."

You were easily overwhelmed with this situation, and somehow your head just seemed to have been swept clean. You could not find any words.

"We take turns. Hershel thinks there should always be someone with ya. Because of the concussion. Rick has already been here, and Maggie of course."

"And Carol."

"Yea."

"I wanted to thank you."

"For what?"

"For the food. Carol said you went hunting especially for it."

"No problem."

“I still appreciate it. And for ... that you are here ... with me."

He nudged his nose up in a nod.

And then there was silence. The conversation with Carol kept going through your head. What she said. Could it really be true?

You knew that Daryl has always been more of a man of action than a man of words. And it was clear to you that if you did not take the first step now, you two would probably never get anywhere.

"Carol spoke to me", you started when you sat up

The man across from you was obviously nervous now. You could tell all too clearly by the fact that he was starting to chew the inside of his cheek.

"With me too."

"Apparently something like an intervention is going on here, could that be", you smiled, trying to loosen up the mood a bit.

"Seems so."

Daryl looked at you for a few moments. You could see the wheels turning in his head.

"I'm a coward, Y/N," he finally began.

You had expected a lot, but not a statement like that.

"No, you’re not. How did you come up with such an idea?"

"I was a complete idiot and too cowardly."

"What are you talking about Daryl."

In your opinion, this was going completely wrong right now. You actually wanted to tell him you loved him, and now it seemed to end in a vortex of self-doubt.

"I love ya, Y/N.”

And with that your thoughts became silent.

“I am terribly in love with ya. And out of fear I didn't say anything. But then I saw ya lying on the flatbed of that fucking truck, covered in blood and passed out. At that moment, my heart stopped. And I swore to myself that when ya're okay again, when ya've got throu’ this, that I'll finally tell ya what I feel for ya. Y/N I love ya. "

During Daryl's monologue you forgot how to breathe and just listened intently while thousands of butterflies fluttered around in your stomach like they're having a bloody party there.

It took you some time to realize that Daryl was waiting for a reaction from you as he gnawed his thumb in fear.

"I love you too," it gushed out of you before you even realized you had said something.

And then there was silence again. You and Daryl just looked at each other. Unsure what to do now. After all, you were both in uncharted waters.

"And ... and now," you asked uncertainly.

"Don't know," Daryl just shrugged.

"I mean ... um ... are ... are we ... together now?"

You carefully ventured out of cover.

"Um, yea ... if ya ... if ya want that."

"Oh my god, yes please", you replied in one breath.

Suddenly the tension between you had dissolved and you both had to laugh. It was so surreal. Two adults acted like teenagers in love who had no idea what to do.

But then Daryl slowly leaned in towards you. Your heart was pounding when you could finally feel his breath on your face. But before your lips touched, he stopped. He wanted to give you the opportunity to evade him if you did not want this.

But you wanted it, wanted it more than anything else in your life. And when you had overcome the last few inches, you finally felt his lips on yours.

The feeling was amazing. As if at that moment an electric shock had run through your whole body, and at the same time it was like coming home.

Everything around you no longer existed, was no longer important. Here and now, it was just you and Daryl. The way his lips moved with yours, how his fingers slowly ran up your arms until they were in your hair.

Everything was so intense. And when you finally parted to take a much-needed breath, Daryl leaned his forehead against yours.

"Ya have no idea how long I've been dreamin’ about this."

"Probably as long as me."

-------------------------

When Rick was about to visit Y/N in the early evening hours, he saw Carol and Maggie standing in the door to the infirmary.

"Everything's okay," he wanted to know.

The two women turned around with their index fingers over their lips.

"Shhhh."

Both did at the same time.

"Be quiet and come here," Carol whispered, "you really have to see that."

Rick approached the two women curiously. What could be so interesting that Carol and Maggie were half-hidden behind the door, staring into the infirmary?

He was confused, but when he saw what fascinated them so much, his heart swell. A satisfied smile played on his lips, as he was seeing what was going on less than five paces away.

Daryl was lying - half sitting - on the bed. His back supported on the wall behind him. Y/N was snuggled close to him, head on his chest and her arm wrapped around him. Absently, the fingers of his right hand traced patterns on her upper arm as he read to her from an old paperback.

Everyone could see the love that bound these two people. And thank God the two finally understood that.

"Seems like we finally have a happy ending," said the former deputy with a broad smile.

"Thank God", Maggie exhaled, "nobody wanted to watch this puppy love shit anymore."

“Yes,” laughed Rick, “but you have to admit there was something exciting about the whole thing. As if it had been our very own little soap opera."

"You're right, but I prefer my best friend happy."

"And what do we do now. I mean this seemingly endless heartbreak theater has come obviously to an end."

"Gossip- Rick is afraid he'll get bored?"

Maggie's voice was teasing.

"No, that's not how it was meant."

"Don't worry, Rick," said Carol with a smile, "I think the whole thing has a sequel anyway."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, has someone told Michelle yet?"

All three looked at each other with big eyes before they having to resist laughing convulsively.

This story could get really interesting after all, they agreed.

part two

[redrobin-detective]

while you were sleeping

“Now here’s what’s going to happen,” Grandpa Max said in a gravelly, rough voice he only used when he was barely holding onto his anger. Gwen held her crossed arms tightly, trying to seem stern when she really felt scared. “You are going to relinquish your control over my Grandson and you are going to do it now or else-”

“Or else what, Grandpa?” Ben asked with a blank expression. Or at least, the thing wearing Ben’s face and body did. It hadn’t quite mastered fine motor control yet so seeing her cousin’s usually animated face so slack, his posture so awkward like a puppet on a string... it was unnerving. 

“Or I’m going to remove you from his person and get him back myself,” Grandpa growled. He slammed his hands on the railings of the stretcher Ben was sitting on and leaned close to his face. “And don’t call me Grandpa, you are not my boy, you are not even real. You are a hunk of metal and machinery and I don’t care if you are the most powerful device in the universe, Omnitrix, I will tear you apart piece by piece to rescue my family.”

The Omnitrix tilted Ben’s head awkwardly, it’s too bright green eyes staring at Grandpa Max with a fury Gwen rarely saw from her cousin. 

“You will never separate us. We will not allow it,” the Omnitrix hissed, clawing Ben’s right hand protectively over the alien watch. It’s usual green interface was blank having spread itself through Ben’s entire body. Three days they had just assumed Ben was tired from the battle in the Atraxi Nebula. Three days that Ben had been acting weird and not right while the Omnitrix possessed him. Three days of brushing it off until Rook had noticed the changes to the watch and alerted them that something was very, very wrong. “And you’re one to talk about saving us,” the Omnitrix spat out. “All you do is make demands of us, send us far and wide to fix other people’s problems and never helping our own.”

“Cut it out with this we and us. Ben is a person and you’re just a machine,” Grandpa sighed with frustration, rubbing at his eyes. 

“There is no Ben or Omnitrix, there is only us,” the Omnitrix stated as if it were obvious. “We have long since merged. Ben and I are one in the same which is how we know how damaged we are.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Grandpa sneered.

“It means,” the Omnitrix continued with lidded, angry eyes, “that Ben doesn’t want to come out. His mental state collapsed in battle leaving our physical form in danger. We had to take control to get us to safety. Ben is safe and cared for right where he is and he will return when he is ready and not a moment before.”

“How do we know you’re not lying?” Grandpa Max screamed, finally losing his cool. Gwen flinched and she noticed the Omnitrix slid its eyes over towards her before flickering back to Grandpa. “According to Azmuth, you’re not supposed to be sentient, you’re not supposed to possess your host! Why am I supposed to believe you that you’re not holding Ben hostage?”

“Because we have been there for every injury, every bout of self-doubt and loneliness, every tear shed in grief and misery,” the Omnitrix whispered with venom dripping from every word. It’s eyes glowed so brightly it cast dark, ominous shadows on Ben’s face. “While you and everyone else looked the other way and pretended it was fine to thrust the entire universe on a child’s shoulders. The only one we have been able to rely on for years is ourselves and it wasn’t enough.” 

“I-,” Grandpa Max started to defend before deflating a bit. He looked over at her, unsure of what to say. Gwen gave him a curt shoulder shrug; she hadn’t exactly been overly attentive to Ben’s mental health the last few years herself. With the way he acted, it was easy to assume he was handling things alright but the signs were there now that she was looking. It shouldn’t have gotten this bad that the Omnitrix had to possess him and point Ben’s struggles out. “It’s not like that, Ben would’ve told us if it was too much.”

“Which is why his psyche is in fractured pieces,” the Omnitrix said with an eye roll. It was just how Ben did it, for all that the actions were jilted and ungainly, it had Ben’s mannerisms down exactly. “We left the Master in your care for years and this is how we ended up.”

The Omnitrix leaned forward, it’s elbows balanced on Ben’s knees and it’s fingers laced together under Ben’s chin. It stared at them judgement in it’s stolen eyes. “So here is what is going to happen, Grandpa and Cousin. We are going to take care of Benjamin, as we have done from the moment of our joining. We will keep our body healthy and safe from harm, we will patrol and go on missions to keep our home and the universe intact. We will also work to undo the damage you have done to Ben and when he is healed and ready to resume control, then we will retreat and let Ben make the decisions.”

“You can’t do that,” Grandpa said with a dry rasp. 

“We can,” the Omnitrix countered steadily. “You will have to kill us to separate us and we will kill you before we let any harm come to Ben. Do you understand?”

“You say we’ve hurt Ben,” Gwen said softly, not liking the Omnitrix’s unfocused, uncoordinated gaze on her. “We probably have just like he has done the same to us. We’re human, just because you love someone doesn’t mean we don’t make mistakes.” It frowned in thought. “But you don’t heal by locking yourself up and not addressing the problem. If Ben, if he’s hurting, then he needs to be out here where we can fix it. I know you love him and want to protect him but this isn’t the answer.”

For the first time since the conversation began, the harsh look softened on Ben’s face. It almost looked human this way. If the Omnitrix and Ben really were one being by this point, then it wouldn’t give into anger for long. It just wasn’t in their nature. 

“You are right in a way, Gwen,” the Omnitrix said with a slight nod, sitting up from it’s aggressive slouch. “It’s not a surprise, you’re right most of the time,” the Omnitrix said with a little quirk of the lips that was very Ben. The mirthful expression tightened into one of frustration. “But we still need time. Ben is fragile right now, he needs to rest, to recover. When he, when we, are ready then we will listen.”

“Okay,” Gwen nodded, reaching out and grabbing Grandpa’s hand tightly before he could fight anymore. “Okay, well we’re here for you if you need us.”

“Right, thanks,” the Omnitrix looked away and picked at Ben’s ripped up jeans. Did the device share Ben’s ADHD? Was it just copying Ben’s nervous habits to trick them or were the two of them so blended together it wasn’t one or the other but simply different parts of a single whole? She couldn’t help but wonder if Ben would’ve been this same person if the Omnitrix had never bonded with him. 

“Well, it’s late and we’re tired. We’re gonna play some video games then meet Rook for patrol tomorrow unless you plan to stop us from doing our job.” The Omnitrix said, it’s voice heavy with accusation as it glared at Grandpa. 

“You may go,” Grandpa said forcefully, unhappy with the situation but unable to stop it. “But this discussion isn’t over.”

“Of course not, I’m still waiting for your apology about your treatment of us,” the Omnitrix sniffed with a flippant wave as it hopped off the stretcher and walked out of the room where it would continue to act as Ben and live his life for who knows how long. But who was to say that he wasn’t Ben, some aspect of him that they never saw. Either way, dealing with it, dealing with them, just got a lot more complicated. 

[lottiebagley]

Family Reunions- George Weasley

Three years imagining a life together Love your family more than we loved each other I said I’d keep in touch and I did But the more we keep in touch, the more I miss him

The second she enters her small flat she can feel her entire world shatter around her. Leaning her back against the door as she sinks to the ground, head dropping into her hands as she wipes furiously at her eyes, trying to push the tears back in.

Once a week she had attended dinner at the burrow, it was nice, good to see Molly and Arthur and whichever kids were around, of course George was never there, the date marked in his calendar in a red pen reminder to not go home that day. To sleep and eat at the flat.

The family had been heartbroken to hear that he had broken up with his girlfriend, after the war he had committed all his time to helping Fred. His twin needed every last bit of his attention, helping with his physical therapy and his dwindling mental state and so George's relationship had taken a back seat. She hadn't minded, in fact she had understood, she even committed herself to helping too.

But a year after George decided to call things off, Fred was better, he was walking and he was happier and he was working again. It was the perfect time for him to focus on his relationship, after all the girl had proven herself time and time again. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. Maybe it was that he felt like he needed a minute alone.

Maybe it was the feeling that she was so much better than him. Maybe it was his mother's constant talks of rings and weddings. He wasn't quite sure but all of a sudden he felt like he was suffocating.

He sat her down in his bedroom in the flat. Explained that she wasn't the one and it didn't feel right anymore. He had watched as she cried and had attempted to comfort her only for her to push him away, fleeing his flat leaving a baffled Fred on the living room sofa, television on in front of him, wondering why the girl who may as well be a sister just left the flat in floods of tears.

George still visions his mother's face when he closes his eyes, the look on her face when he told her he ended his relationship. He remembers her disappointment. He remembers his brothers shock. He remembers his dad's sad sigh. He remembers his sister's passionate rant about how he never deserved her anyway.

As the girl cries on her hallway floor she vows that she will stop. Stop seeing the Weasley's. Not because she doesn't love them with every fibre of her being but because she couldn't handle the heart break. Couldn't keep sitting at their dinner table without his hand on her knee. Couldn't keep sitting on the swing set without him laughing and pushing her. Couldn't keep helping Molly clean plates without him sat on the counter teasing her.

Tell your sister if she hears from her ex I can’t be the one that she calls And as much as I love talks with your dad I need him to leave me alone Cause I can’t find the words to express The way that I wish I was the one But friends don’t bring friends to family reunions

Her resolve to stop seeing the Weasley's was gone by the next morning.

She woke up to a missed call from Charlie and called back, chattering away about his upcoming trip home as she got ready.

She arrived at her job at the ministry and met up with Hermione for coffee, deciding that when she eventually cut her ties she would keep Hermione. The girl was like a younger sister, although so was Ginny, but she figured one last tie to the family, someone to hear their news from would do no harm.

Arthur knocked on her office door in his lunch break, bringing with him sandwiches made by Molly and asking her to eat with him and she didn't have the heart to say no, so instead they ate in her office and talked merrily about the infestation of singing sunglasses he was dealing with today.

As she left her office she received a phone call from Ginny, who ranted about how annoying Harry was being and how now she had graduated and was training she felt like she had no time to focus on her relationship.

It was after she assured the girl that her and Harry were meant to be as she walked through the Leaky Cauldron she knew what she had to do.

She got a flat above a bookshop on Diagon Alley simply to be near George and now everyday, walking past his store, felt like torture. She hadn't been in the store, she'd avoided it like the plague even when Fred asked her to come and hang out with him and George wasn't working. So as she walked into the atmospheric shop her heart felt like it was sinking in her chest.

"Hey sweetheart, you all okay?" Fred asks with a bright grin, he's leaning on his cane for support and eyeing the door.

She could cry looking at him. Not just because he looks identical to the man who fell out of love with her and she still pined desperately for. No. Today the tears she blinks back are practically grief, she knew that, realistically, she would see Fred around, but she wouldn't be able to call him a friend anymore.

"I uh- could I speak to George?" she questions, Fred smiles gently, noticing her pained tone.

"Yeah, of course, you can go on up," he assures. She nods shooting him a small smile, but pauses on the stairs.

"Hey Freddie,"

"Yeah,"

"I want you to know that I am really proud of you, of the shop and of how much better you are and I mean when I first met you who'd have thought you'd end up here. I just-well I love you and I am really proud," She blinks back tears as she speaks, almost wishing she would get a chance to say a goodbye to all the Weasley's.

Fred smiles gently, somewhere in him he can tell, tell that this is goodbye and he's about to loose a friend.

"I love you too sweetheart, just remember no matter what that I am always going to be here for you,"

They share eye contact for a moment, both knowing and not saying it. Fred understood, he can only imagine how hard it must be to still be a part of his family's lives after George. He knew the girl in front of him loved his twin brother more than anything, he knew that deep down George loved her just as much, and yet here Fred stands, a silent goodbye hanging in the air.

Phone calls Sweet notes All the little things I used to love Now they just remind me that I was never enough We said we’d keep in touch and I tried But the more we keep in touch, the less I move on in life

"Hey George," she speaks quietly, standing in the hallway of his flat as he stands staring at her shock.

It's been a month since he saw her and his heart leaps at the sight of her, at her standing there with a small smile and teary eyes and a pencil skirt and blazer and messy hair and she's just her. She is her and it's everything he's been missing. He wonders as he stares at her how he ever thought that she wasn't the one. That she wasn't perfect. That she wasn't made for him.

Her own eyes are wide, seeing him sparking something in her that she didn't even know existed. He's shirtless, a white towel wrapped around his hips and his hair damp from the shower he just clearly had. Her eyes scan his toned chest, his broad shoulders, the light sprinkles of freckles. His scent, his cinnamon body wash, is so strong that it practically invades her body and she could scream and cry and all she wants is to kiss him.

"Oh-shit-hi. Is everything alright?" He's worried to see her, had someone died? Was she okay? Merlin, he wanted her to be happy more than anything in the world.

"Hey," she speaks quietly, backing a way a little when he tries to move closer, not wanting to be close enough that she could reach out and touch him.

"You said that already," he teases gently, testing the waters.

"I'm sorry- I-" she cuts herself off, not sure how to say anything that she wants to

"Hey, it's okay. You're okay," he comforts her gently "Why don't you go sit down, I'll get dressed and come, just give me a minute," he offers, she nods her head slowly.

When he enters the living room it feels natural. Seeing her sat on his sofa waiting for him feels right. He thinks for a second about how it could all be different. How he could be in pyjamas and she could be in one of his shirts, how he would jump on her and laugh when she tells him he is squashing her, how he'd have held her as they watch a film and make-out and he'd cook for her and they'd drink wine and enjoy a blissful Friday evening, wrapped up in each other.  

"You're all dressed up. Going anywhere nice?" she questions, eyes scanning his white dress shirt and jeans.

"The Italian, the one in Camden town,"

"With the little dog and the red wine?" she questions, George lets out a laugh at the memory of the time he took her there, it was a month after the war, thinking back it was probably the last time he took her out. He got so busy with Fred and the shop and she'd not been a priority when he knew she should have been, she never seemed to mind though.

"That's the one,"

"So, it's a date," she smiles gently, heart splintering in her chest

"Uh, yeah. Yeah it is," he confirms, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly

"That's great, do I know her?"

"Angelina," He admits quietly. She nods, forcing a smile.

"That's great George, I'm really happy for you. I'm sorry to disturb you-"

"No!" he cuts her off a little too eagerly, a little too happy to see her. "No, you are fine being here. I want to help with whatever is happening," he assures her

"Right, well I won't keep you long," she nods awkwardly

"Hush, none of that nonsense, take all the time you need," he reassures her, sitting down next to her on the sofa but keeping a respectful distance apart.

"So-well- I know that this is-" she cuts herself off with a sigh "Sorry, this is just...awkward,"

"Hey, it's just me. You can say anything," He moves his hand to place it gently on her knee, his heart stops at the way she gently pulls her leg away.

"I need you to tell your family to stop talking to me,"

"What?" he snaps, suddenly quite offended. "My family have been nothing but kind to you and-"

"Christ! it's not like that!" she gasps, he sighs

"Then what?"

"I can't be a part of their lives anymore. I know it sounds so selfish and I wish it was different but- George- I love your family. I really do. I just- being around them hurts. It kills me. It makes me want to just drop dead because every time I talk to them I think of you. Being in your house I can feel you and- I- it hurts. It hurts too much," She admits it in a tired whisper, George feels his heart break at the thought of her heartbroken because of him.

"Okay. I'll talk to them," he speaks quietly, she nods and stands.

"Goodbye George,"

"I'll see you around?" he asks quietly, the thought of this being it makes his heart hurt. When his family were stealing seeing him all the time it wasn't as bad, he always knew what was happening in her life. This, this was final.

"Yeah. Yeah maybe,"

Tell your sister if she hears from her ex I can’t be the one that she calls And as much as I’ll miss talks with your dad I need him to leave me alone Cause I can’t find the words to express The way you don’t think I am the one And friends don’t bring friends to family reunions

For the next six months George hears nothing. Without his family seeing her he has no idea how she is, if she's okay, if she's happier now. He lays up at night thinking about her and wishing he could turn back time.

She hears scraps, staying in touch with Hermione, she knows about Ron in depth, hears bits and pieces about the rest of the family. Too awkward to ask if George is okay, if he's happier without her, if he's with Angelina now.

Bill receives a card when his little girl is born but she doesn't pick up the phone when he calls her. Fred gets a text message when he finishes his physical therapy but when he replies it's left on delivered. Ginny swears up and down that she saw her in the stands of her first professional quidditch game but can't prove it.

So, with dread filling her body and curses at her nephew flying in her mind she enters Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. She's hoping to go unseen by the twins, they had staff now and maybe they would never have to find out her annoyingly loveable nephew wanted a reusable swamp for his 12th birthday and absolutely nothing else would do.

"Hello, welcome to Weasley's Wizard- oh, hi," George's voice sounds anxious when he snaps his head up to see her standing like a deer in the headlights in the almost empty shop.

"Hey,"

"Is everything alright?" George wonders if the way his mind automatically jumps to something awful having happened because of the war or because he can't think of any other reason after everything he put her through that she would want to be anywhere near him.

"It's Max's birthday next week," she announces

"Yeah. 12, right?" George questions with a lopsided grin. He adored her nephew, the kid as giggly and energetic and just like him and Fred were as kids. He also loved the way she was around kids.

"Yeah," she confirms, surprised he remembers. "He, uh, started school,"

"Made Gryffindor I'm sure," George smiles, it's the first genuine smile he's let out in weeks

"Yeah. The first thing he said when he saw me at Christmas was that I just had to tell uncle George, didn't shut up about you once. I didn't have the heart to tell him we broke up so..." she trails off.

"He's a good kid,"

"He is. Professor McGonogall isn't quite so set on him,"

"Nah, she always loves the trouble makers," George smirks

"That's true," She smiles gently "Anyway, so he wants a portable swamp and nothing else instead for his birthday, so," she trails off once more, gesturing to herself.

"Well of course," George grins, pushing himself off the front desk that he had been resting on and striding across the shop floor to grab one. He grabs a basket, walking around the floor and plucking any product he thinks the kid might like, even a few unreleased things from the back room before returning to where she is standing at the front till with a small smile on her face.

"George-" she starts, he shushes her immediately.

"I'll gift wrap them for you," he announces, placing the full basket on the till

"You don't have to that," she protests but he laughs

"Actually, I kinda do. You are the worst at wrapping gifts," he teases making her smile.

"You got me there," she admits

"Yeah. So, how've you been," He begins scanning products through the till and wrapping them with ease

"Uh good. I got a promotion-"

"Wow! that's fantastic, and so well deserved,"

"How would you know?" She blushes as she speaks, not looking at the boy

"I do read the paper y'know? What is it now 100 war criminals you have single handedly found," he bolsters, she'd always wanted to be an auror but becoming so high up that she reported directly to the minister and had a big fancy office was only in her wildest dreams until now.

"What about you? How's things?" she questions

"They're good. Shop's going great and Fred's only getting better by the day. Little Victorie is so perfect and yeah life is, well, it's good," He can't bring himself to say that as much as everything is perfect he can't find it in him to be happy without her by his side.

"And Angelina?"

"We decided we were way better as friends. You dating?"

"I'm married to the job," she shrugs, not wanting to say she doubted she would ever fall in love again without him.

"I get that," he nods, placing the pile of wrapped up parcels into bags. He physically laughs when she grabs her purse and begins to gather money

"Sweetheart, you're not paying for any of this. I only rang it through the till because we have to stock management,"

"George, that is so kind but I can-"

"Yes you can, if it makes you feel better stick my name on a couple of the tags alright?"

"I will, I promise that I will," she nods, taking the bags from his hand "Thank you,"

"No bother. Give Max my best, yeah?" He smiles, she nods and he watches as she leaves the store, his heart that he hadn't even realised was practically beaming dulls back down when she goes.

Tell your mom to stop sending me recipes she finds on the internet And when your brother wins homecoming king

I won’t be there to witness it And when you find the words to express the way you don’t think I am the one And friends don’t bring friends to family reunions If we’re just friends don’t bring friends to family reunions

"You busy?" Hermione leans in the doorway of her office

"I can make a couple minutes, what's up? We had coffee three days ago," she reminds as the brunette steps into the office, closing the door behind her and settling in the seat across the desk.

"I know and I wanted to ask then but I couldn't bring myself to it because I feel so bad asking," Hermione explains, twisting the diamond ring on her finger anxiously.

"'Mione, you can ask me anything. You know that if it's physically possible I'll do it," she assures, putting the papers she had been reading down to give her friend undivided attention.

"You're one of my best friends," Hermione states

"And you're one of mine," The girl nods, eyebrows furrowed in concern

"And when somebody does something big in their life they want their best friends there,"

"Hermione what ever you need I'm there. 100%"

"Big things like getting married. I'm getting married, you know that, I mean to say Ron and I have picked a date and it's four months away and we are getting married at the burrow in a marquee by the lake. I know it's a lot to ask of you. I mean it's not just some ex, it's George, and I know how hard it's been for you without him and I hate myself for asking. And it's not just seeing him it's being there, I mean you fell in love with him there and it's not just him it's all of them and I understand if you say no, but, I want you there," Hermione rambles

"Of course," She speaks without thinking, never would she not attend her friends wedding "Hermione, I would love nothing more than to be there,"

"Really?" Hermione beams

"Merlin, 'Mione did you think for a second I wouldn't come, it's your wedding,"

Love them like they are my own But I don’t think I’ll ever move on If you don’t , If  you don't

It had been the most obvious thing in the world to say yes when Hermione asked, but now, standing in a stupid, but undeniably beautiful, pale blue bridesmaid dress she felt nervous. Hermione had insisted she had no obligation to see the Weasley's until the wedding day, she knew how her friends heart ached for not just George but the whole family, and wanted to make the whole thing as painless as possible.

But now, standing in the empty kitchen the morning of the wedding, the girl wondered how to breathe. She arrived by floo powder, already changed and ready like Hermione had instructed as she was getting ready with her muggle family.

She wasn't sure what she expected but it wasn't the empty, quiet room she was standing in.

She lets out a sigh, blinking back tears, the scent feeling like coming home.

"Sweetie, how are you?" She hadn't even realised Molly had entered the room from the back door until the familiar woman is pulling her into a hug.

"I'm okay, how are you?" she questions as Molly pulls away. If it were anyone else Molly would have rushed away, much too busy with preparations, but it wasn't. Molly loved the kids her children brought home in her life like her own, she missed the girl but understood that she needed space. One look at the tears in her eyes tells Molly that right now she needs to be here.

"I'm good. We are all good," Molly assures, gently guiding the girl to sit. "Now, tell me honestly, how are you?

"I'm just sorry," She admits, voice cracking and tears spilling onto her cheeks. "You must all hate me,"

"Sweetie, no one here hates you, not even for a second. We adore you," she assures, rubbing the girl's shoulder comfortingly

"All of you were always so welcoming and kind and then I just stop speaking to you all. I was so rude and I'm so sorry. Merlin, I didn't even tell you myself I made George do it,"

"None of that. You don't have to be sorry. We are the sorry ones. My son broke your heart and we were all wrapped up in loving you and wanting to be part of your life that we didn't stop to think how hard it would be for you. To be here and to talk to us. You needed to heal, no one is mad at you. We just miss you, and when or if you ever want to come back you will be welcomed with open arms," Molly assures her, grabbing a tissue to dab the girls cheeks dry.

"I missed you so much Molly," she sighs

"I missed you too dear, and I know George misses you,"

"I miss him. Every day I miss him,"

The moment is cut short when Charlie strides in through the front door "Thought I smelt trouble," He beams, wrapping his arms around the girl "Come help me with the daises, Hermione wants like a thousand and Perce is useless,"  He informs, an arm wrapped around her shoulder. She looks almost anxious and he rubs her shoulder gently "He's upstairs with Ron," he whispers gently

"You're welcome to go and speak to him if you'd rather," Molly informs, she wanted her son to be back with the girl more than anything.

"It's okay I'm happy to help,"

"Thank Merlin, I'd strangle Percy if you aren't there to stop me,"

Tell your sister if she hears from her ex I can’t be the one that she calls And as much as I’ll miss talks with your dad I need him to leave me alone Cause I can’t find words to express The way that I wish I was the one But friends don’t bring friends to family reunions

"I saw mum put you to work earlier," George's voice calls through the dark night air. She's sat in the tree house in the garden, the wedding a small distance away.

"I never mind," she shrugs as she watched him climb the ladder, he sits down next to her, legs dangling over the edge next to hers.

"Thought I'd find you here," He comments, he had built the tree house one summer when they couldn't get a minute alone. It was the first summer she spent there, between 4th and 5th year, she fell in love with him in that tree house.

"Just needed a minute," she sighs

"Yeah. It's beautiful but it's kind of a lot,"

"Weddings when you're depressingly single are often a lot," she shrugs, he chuckles at that.

"I have no clue how you are single," He comments, eyes trained on the starry sky above them

"Well, you dumped me so," she teases, a light laugh in her voice. He rolls his eyes, bumping his body to hers, for the first time since the breakup she doesn't move away from his touch. Not wanting to waste the opportunity but also not wanting to push her he settles for pressing his leg next to hers, her foot wraps around his leg holding him close to her without her even noticing, it's second nature, instinctive.

"I'm serious. You're so incredibly kind, and funny, and smart and good in bed," he adds the last one as a joke, laughing when she playfully swats his arm "and I mean, look at you right now, you're like a fucking goddess. You always are. How had no one swept you up?" He questions, and he means every word of it.

"Honestly?" she questions

"Always,"

"They've tried. I mean boys ask me out or try and get with me, but- I- well I never say yes, it's not fair to go on a date with someone when you're in love with someone else,"  She admits, she is staring straight ahead, not looking at him, so she misses the grin that brightens his face.

"That's why Angelina and I decided on friends," he admits, she hums in response not sure what to say. A comfortable silence falls over them, the sound of music from the party the only thing filling the air.

"You wanna dance?"he asks suddenly

"Sure," she agrees, he jumps down from the tree house, it's a little stupid but not unsafe and they've done it a thousand times before. She follows suit and his hands grab her waist to steady her when she stumbles a little in her heels.

He keeps his hands there, pulling her closer to him as hers wrap around his neck.

"Always thought you looked so good in blue," he admits as his thumb strokes her waist, the silky material soft under his grip. "Like a princess," he adds

"Always thought you looked so good in a suit," she grins, blushing a little as he twirls her around

"I miss you," he hums out, pulling her back closer this time, her head resting on his chest.

"I miss you," she returns.

"Y'know I never stopped loving you. Not even for a second. I regret it. More than anything," he's practically whispering and his heart stops when she stills in his arms.

"I can't do this," She whispers, tugging herself from his arms

"Darling-"

"No. George, I love you, more than anything. So I can't. It's your little brother's wedding and you are lonely and you are all mixed up and we haven't seen each other in so long and weddings, merlin weddings, they confuse everything and I can't. I can't do this one last night thing. I'm sorry,"

Before George can reply, can tell her that she's so far from right she's turned around and is speeding back towards the party.

Tell your mom to stop sending me recipes she finds on the internet And when your brother wins homecoming king I won’t be there to witness it And when you find the words to express That you don’t think I am the one And friends don’t bring friends to family reunions

She pulls her apartment door open a week after the wedding, surprised to see George Weasley a determined look in his eyes and soaking wet from the rain.

"George,"

"Hi. I need to talk to you," he doesn't seem nervous, he seems like there's a fire in his belly, a determination, a purpose, a need.

"Oh, sure. Come in," She moves aside, letting him in. "The living area is at the end of the hall. I'll go grab a towel," she directs.

He looks around the living area, it's open plan to the kitchen and it's cosy. Full of pictures and little trinkets, it is fundamentally her and his he feels more at home there despite having never been before than he does in his own flat.

She re-enters, throwing a fluffy baby pink towel at George before heading into the kitchen, grabbing an extra mug having been in the process of making tea when he arrived, and fixing them both a tea how they like it.

"So, you wanted to talk?" she prompts, sitting crosslegged on the couch, her fuzzy pjs and messy hair so domestic and beautiful he would marry her on the spot to get to see her like that every day.

"You said that you didn't want to do one last night, well, I don't either. It wasn't wedding goggles making me look at you different. I am in love with you. So, in love with you that being without you makes it hard to breathe and I want you back, not just for a night but for the rest of my life," He thinks he should be nervous but he's not. It's her. He could never be nervous with her.

"George, that makes no sense why would you-"

"Listen, I have never felt good enough for you. The whole time I've known you it was like you were so above me and I could never be on your level, no matter what happened you were always perfect. You were, and are, too good for me,"

"George, I have never been-" she starts but he cuts her off

"I had to help Fred. He is my twin brother, my best friend. He nearly died and I was terrified. He was nearly crushed to death and I realised I could loose him, I could loose anyone I loved. That included you, obviously, and that's how it started. I was scared to be with you because if I lost you I couldn't cope. I couldn't survive. So I started pushing you away. But you. Merlin, you're so good that it didn't matter. I pushed you away and I was wrong to do that but you didn't waver for a second. It was my responsibility to help Fred. To go to physical therapy with him. To hold him when he cried. To be there no matter. I would have done it no matter what. But you. You didn't have to do that. But you did. You didn't complain. You didn't walk away. You helped fix Fred even when I was being crappy to you," He rants

"George, I loved you and I still do. I would have done anything you asked me to, I still would. But I didn't help Fred because of you. I didn't do it for you. Not cause I was too good. I helped Fred because he's been my friend since I was 11. I helped Fred for Fred. Not for you," She explains, George sighs.

"I know. I just was in this state right? I was scared to loose you and you've always been too good for me and I just didn't know what to do. Then, Fred was getting better, and I felt empty. I wanted Fred happy and healthy of course but I'd become so used to spending all my time trying to fix things, trying to keep everyone afloat. It felt like everything stopped. Like no one needed me. I became obsessed with things I could. I couldn't fix you, I couldn't fix us, because nothing needed fixing. You were so perfect for me that I didn't need to fix it. That scared me. The more I thought about it the more I realised if I lost you, no one could fix me, I couldn't loose you but I wasn't good enough for you. It had to be me. My terms. My breakup. It was stupid, but that was I hadn't lost you I'd given you up and that was better," he explains, tears flooding her cheeks as she suddenly understands everything that's been happening for the past months.

"Georgie, you never needed to be scared. I'm not going anywhere, I promise,"

"I know. I'm sorry that I hurt you,"

"George, I love you,"

"I love you darling, more than anything," he smiles

"So another go?" she questions timidly

"If you'll have me," he nods, she grins. Hands shoving his shoulder's back to lay against the sofa, knees on either side of his waist. Her lips touch his for the first time in months and it's like they can breathe again.

They lay side by side in her bed that night, bare skin pressed to each other, holding each other as tightly as humanly possible.

"Can we stay here all day tomorrow? I just wanna lay with you," she speaks tiredly, her head on his chest

"Ron and Hermione get home from the honeymoon tomorrow," George informs, she moves her head to look at him "We have a dinner thing, looking at the wedding pictures too,"he continues

"That'll be nice. You aren't leaving my bed till the very last minute though," she decides

"You should come," he prompts, giving her a squeeze

"You really think your family won't mind?"

"Please, they love you. They'll just be glad to see we are back together,"

"We could be going as friends," She teases, he rolls his eyes

"Not to a family reunion we couldn't. Besides, I have every intention to hold your hand and kiss you the whole night so they'll probably catch on. Aside from Percy, bless him, he's socially inept,"

If we’re just friends don’t bring friends to family reunions If we’re just friends don’t bring friends to family reunions

**

Masterlist

[themayforce]

Pretty in Pink - Part 2

Link to part 1

Summary: After the events down on the planet, you're not sure how to talk to Rex about it. But luckily, Fives and Echo are here to help.

Description: Things get steamy again in this one. Afab!Reader (no gendered language), foursome, double (or i guess triple) penetration (in both holes), unprotected sex (wrap it up fellas), some degradation, and a little bit of spanking

Rating: 18+ explicit

Pairings: Rex+Fives+Echo/Reader

Words: 7481 (literally i only just found out about this word count and uhhhh i don't know how this happened)

There aren’t enough hours in a day for all the work you have to get done. Since getting back to Coruscant, it's like you've been stuck in an endless meeting with every possible senator, advisor, administrator, or whatever title these politicians had chosen to use. The first few meetings had been important, but soon you had no real part in the discussions anymore and you just watched from the back of the room, exhausted.

It doesn't help that events from a certain planet keep replaying in your mind like a holovid stuck on a loop, glitching and catching on moments and phrases you should not be thinking about in the middle of a meeting room. The heat in your face and your anxiety about it make you even more tired, and after a week of these negotiations you're very glad when you can finally get home before dark for once.

The lights in your apartment automatically switch on when you open the door. The soft pink and orange hues from the sunset outside drape over your living room like a blanket and you spend a few minutes just looking out the window, admiring the view over the city, something you didn’t take as much time for as you should.

No matter how hard you try, it’s impossible to empty your mind these days. Your little … adventure with your three clone friends left its marks on you, both emotionally and physically. They’re fading now, but every time you see yourself in the mirror before showering they jump out at you: two rows of bruises on either side of your hips, unmistakably finger shaped. Rex’s handiwork. And the worst part is that it turns you on more than you’d ever care to admit.

You haven’t spoken to Rex at all since flying back on the shuttle. He had been in two of the same meetings as you, sure, but only awkward glances were exchanged, no words. It bothers you, having these feelings fester inside you, but you have no idea how to approach the subject. If you send him a comlink message, what are you even supposed to say? ‘Hey Captain, I think we should discuss how you fucked my kriffing brains out and then pretended it never happened?’

The day after you got back, Fives and Echo had been waiting for you after your checkup in the medbay, bless their hearts. You had all agreed to leave out the specifics of what had happened in your official reports, but a warning had been attached to that planet’s datalog. Avoid the pink flowers: toxic to most humanoids. With those two guys, you can laugh about it now, and you’re grateful for it. Fives seems more relaxed around you, more open. You haven’t forgotten that he called you beautiful, that he held your hand and brushed the hair out of your face. You see the way he looks at you, and it melts you, the way a hot cup of caf on a cold day does. But you just can’t seem to examine your feelings about Fives, not while Rex’s fire burns inside you so vigorously.

If you don’t talk to him soon, you probably never will, and you’re not sure you can take that. You get a glass of water from the kitchen and down it in one go before laying down on your couch, comlink in hand.

Should you call him? Leave him a holo message? Or just a text message? He’s probably very busy, probably doesn’t even have time to meet with you, but there’s no way you can talk it out over the com. The little device feels heavy in your hand as you type out the message ‘Can we talk?’, and your thumb hovers over the send button. What if he says no? Or just doesn’t reply? What if he’s trying to forget what happened, and bringing it up will just anger him? But he’d called you perfect, had fucked you like a man possessed. You look like such a good little whore. Those words won’t stop echoing in your mind.

You press your face into a throw pillow and groan. “Stupid clones,” you mutter to yourself. “Stupid, sexy clones.”

It’s only when the buzzer to your front door wakes you up that you notice you had dozed off in the first place. Quickly, you smooth out your clothes and flip the throw pillow over with the drool-stained side down. You're not expecting any guests -- you were too tired to make plans this week -- so you're frowning when you open the door.

Your frown turns into a surprised smile when you see Fives and Echo standing in front of you. Their helmets are tucked under their arm, and Fives is holding a bottle of something that looks like alcohol, while Echo has a plain white box in his hands.

"Hey there, sunshine," Fives says with a sheepish grin that nestles itself in your heart.

"Guys! What's all this?"

“Hope this isn’t a bad time,” Fives starts, but Echo interrupts him.

“Fives wanted to-” A sharp look from his friend makes him rephrase his sentence. “Fives and I wanted to check up on you.”

“We saw you in one of the meeting rooms today, and you looked tired, so- oh, not that you look bad, you still look great, just-” You laugh, and that puts Fives at ease. He smiles back at you.

“You’re really too sweet. Please, come in.”

You step aside to let your friends into your home, both of them still wearing their armor. They must have come here right after their shift, and it warms your heart that they chose to see you instead of getting their well-earned rest.

“Brought you something,” Fives says, handing you the bottle he’s holding. “Thought you might like a drink.” It‘s a familiar bottle to you, the most common type of Corellian Red on the market, and one of your favorites, which Fives remembered.

“Aw, you shouldn’t have. But you’re absolutely right. I could really use a drink.”

Echo’s white box happens to be the best kind of box: a cake box, and time flies by while the three of you eat cake and empty the wine bottle. It’s nice, really nice, to just hang out like this. Despite the unspoken truth between you and Fives, it doesn’t feel awkward -- instead it draws something giddy and flirtatious out of you, though that may be in part due to the wine. One third of a bottle isn’t enough to get you drunk, but it’s definitely enough to get you tipsy, and soon enough you have your legs in Fives’ lap on the couch. He rubs circles on your calves with his thumb. He blushes. Echo laughs. The whole thing is adorable.

For the second time tonight, the buzzer of the front door interrupts you. This time, aided by the buzz of alcohol, you’re a lot more relaxed as you make your way across the room, glass in hand. There’s music playing from a concert on your holoscreen -- you don’t know the song or the singer, but the rhythm puts a spring in your step and there’s a smile on your face when you open the door.

Your expression shifts to one of open-mouthed confusion when you are met with another set of blue and white plastoid armor, worn by the man you so desperately wanted to talk to earlier today. And that's not all -- clutched in Rex's hands is a beautiful bouquet of yellow and white flowers, perfectly arranged like it's come straight out of a holo-ad for one of those high-end florists from Naboo.

You're speechless. Absolutely floored. Not just by the fact that Captain Rex brought you flowers, but that he decided to do this now, tonight, after ignoring you for over a week and- oh no. Did you accidentally send that comlink message? Is that why he's here? You would never even have considered sending it if you knew you'd have company tonight, but Rex doesn't know that and now he's here and so are Fives and Echo and every possible explanation you can give will bring trouble.

Blood rushes to your head as you try to think of something to say, but Fives and Echo beat you to it.

"Captain!" they exclaim in almost perfect unison while they jump up from their seats.

"Captain…" you repeat, at a loss for any other words. "I- I wasn't expecting-" You can't finish your sentence. Rex looks like he's going through all stages of grief simultaneously -- jaw tightening, brows furrowing, while his gaze darts between you and the clones behind you.

"I'll come back another time."

“No!” you say before you can stop yourself, “I mean, you’re welcome to come have a drink?” It’s embarrassing, the sheepish way you’re smiling at him, but he did just bring you flowers.

“Are those for me?” you ask, gesturing at the bouquet. Rex looks at the flowers like he had temporarily forgotten he was holding them, then hands them over to you.

“Yes. I hope you uh,” he hesitates, “are feeling better.”

“I am, thank you.”

This is unbearable. You want to scream, to either pull him inside or slam the door in his face, anything to make this painful situation end. You can feel Fives’ eyes burn into you from behind you, knowing that you have to explain why his kriffing Captain is bringing you flowers, when you can’t even explain it to yourself.

“So do you w-” you begin to invite Rex inside, pointing your thumb towards the living room, but he starts speaking at the same time.

“I’ll talk to you later. Goodnight. Troopers.”

With a curt nod and a sharp turn, he marches down the walkway, away from you.

You rush over to the low table next to your couch where you left your comlink and after you lay the bouquet down you check your message history. The words ‘Can we talk’ are still blinking up at you from the bottom of the display, unsent. The whole thing was a kriffing coincidence.

“So,” Echo says, pressing a button on the holoscreen to mute it, “what just happened?”

You groan as you let yourself drop down on the couch. Fives sits back down next to you, but his posture isn’t as relaxed as it was a few minutes ago.

“I don’t know if I should talk about it,” you say softly, burying your face in your hands.

"He …" Fives sighs deeply and turns his body towards you. "He also got involved back on that planet, didn't he?"

You nod without looking up. No point in lying about it now, and besides, it was Rex who decided to be weird about the whole thing.

"Said so, didn't I?" Echo says.

"Kriff, yeah, you were right. I really must've slept through it."

Now you sit up, bouncing your gaze between the two of them. “You knew?” you ask, confused.

“Not for sure,” Echo replies, “I stepped away for half an hour or so to fix the transmitter. But something was different about the Captain when I got back.”

Yeah, you could say that. It would’ve been a lot easier if he hadn’t been so secretive about the whole thing.

"I wanted to talk to him about it, but I thought he was avoiding me… Well, until-"

"Until he showed up unannounced at your apartment with flowers," Fives interrupts. There’s a small grin on his face as he shakes his head. "Stars, he's hopeless. We should give him some pointers."

Pointers? He wants Rex to be, what? Better at courting you?

“Wait… I thought-”

“I’d be jealous? Eh, a little, I can’t deny that. But one thing you need to know about clones,” Fives says with a knowing look to Echo, “is that we’re very good at sharing.”

His words make your face burn, your cheeks feel like the twin suns of Tatooine with how hot they are, and your breath hitches in your throat.

Echo chuckles at your reaction and moves to sit down on the couch as well. Stars, why was it making you so flustered to be sandwiched between the two of them?

“Fives was right. You really are cute when you get nervous.”

“I’m always right,” Fives jokes in return, “but more importantly…” He leans over and gently presses his thumb and index finger against your chin, turning your head to look at him. “Would you like that, sunshine? The three of us sharing you?” His thumb now grazes over your bottom lip. If he keeps this up, you might forget how to speak. Or forget your own kriffing name.

“Y-yes,” you whisper.

“Good.” He holds your gaze lovingly, his eyes darting down to your bottom lip. You’re hoping he might kiss you, but then he takes his hand away and smiles slightly.

“Better ask the Captain to come back, then.”

You fumble with your comlink and almost drop it while you type your new message to Rex. ‘Please come back. We want to talk to you.’ That’s the line you all agreed upon.

“While we wait…” Echo leans closer to you and lowers his voice. “Fives here never shuts up about wanting to kiss you.”

“Echo!” Fives hisses, embarrassed.

“Sooo,” you say, turning to him with a bashful grin, “what are you waiting for, then?”

Fives blinks a few times, and then with one swooping motion he pulls you into his lap, and puts his mouth to yours. His lips are sweet from the cake and the wine, his hands warm as he holds onto your waist. He’s firm and soft at the same time and it’s perfect -- until you move slightly and part of his armor pinches your skin, making you wince.

“Okay, you better take this off now,” you say, tapping one of his thigh plates with your fingernail, “or someone’s gonna get hurt.”

“That a promise?” Fives mutters against your cheek, making you giggle.

It’s touching how much care they put in taking off their armor. Just by watching them undress you can tell how important it is to them, almost sacred. They put every piece neatly on top of the other in the same way, like they were taught precisely how. Soon they stand before you in their tight black underclothes, still completely covered, but softer to the touch. The stretchy fabric doesn’t hide much. In fact, it accentuates the shape of their muscles and, well, other parts. You chew on your lip while you watch them move closer to you.

“Your turn, sunshine,” Fives states. “Let’s give the Captain a little surprise when we open the door for him.”

A small whine escapes your lips when you process his words, but you gladly oblige. As soon as you stand up from the couch, they’re on either side of you, so close it’s almost dizzying. They help you undo the clasps on your outfit and soon enough, you’re left only in your underclothes. Nothing fancy -- it was supposed to just be a regular work day when you got dressed this morning -- but at least it was a matching pair. Fives can’t seem to help himself and nuzzles his face into your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses that send shivers down your spine and he makes his way back up past your jaw, until he captures your mouth again. His second kiss is more intense, deeper, hotter, and as his tongue moves against yours, you feel the wetness between your thighs increasing. While Fives kisses you, Echo runs his fingers down your breastbone softly, before brushing them over your nipples through the thin fabric of your bra. He’s gentle, like he doesn’t want to distract you from Fives’ kiss, but it still makes you shiver, the hairs on your arms standing up with the thrill of it.

And then, the buzzer again. When Echo goes to open the door, you instinctively want to turn around, too shy to face Rex in your state of undress, but Fives holds you with your back to his chest and his hands on your shoulders, rubbing them softly. He presses a kiss to your temple.

When the door swings open, your eyes meet Rex’s almost instantly.

"What's going on?" Rex asks, but his voice isn't demanding. Quite the opposite, there's almost a quiver in it as his gaze moves over your body, then quickly away again.

Echo leads him into the room by the back of his arm and smirks.

"Well, Captain, Fives and I have a little … gift for you, if you want to join us."

"We know you got involved, sir. With the toxin situation. No need to be ashamed. In fact, I think we can all benefit from this situation." Fives’ mouth comes up right next to your ear and you can feel the tickle of his goatee. "Why don't you tell him what you told us?" Fives whispers to you. Kriff, he wants you to proposition Rex? Out loud?

"I-I… well…" Alright, breathe, you can do this. You know what you want.

"I want… I want all three of you."

Rex’s eyes seem to darken, his posture heavy when he walks over to you. Fives lets go of you now, taking a step back to give the two of you more space.

"Stars," Rex breathes, "y-you're sure?"

"I'm sure." To help ease his doubts, you trace a path up his armor with your hands, resting your arms around his neck, and kiss him. He seems frozen for a second against your lips, but then he returns your kiss eagerly, warm hands grazing over your hips. When he touches you, his breath hitches, remembering you are near-naked in front of him. He breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against yours.

“I felt- I thought I had taken advantage of you. You were so vulnerable, and I was- I couldn’t control myself, I was too rough-”

"Look," you say softly, turning around to show him the remnants of your bruises.

"Is that- did I do that? Kriff, I didn't intend to-"

You interrupt him. "You can do it again, if you want. Keep doing it, so they never fade.”

Rex swallows, but before he can reply you come up with a new idea.

"I want to thank the three of you for saving my life," you say, and you can't help the shy smile that graces your face as you unclasp your bra, shaking it off and revealing your breasts. You take Fives and Rex by the hand and look Echo in the eye sweetly as you lead the three of them to your bedroom.

"There's no need-" Fives interrupts, but you shush him with a finger to his lips.

"I'm going to thank you," you say more firmly this time. You press a quick kiss to his lips before sinking to your knees before him, your eyes lining up with the visible hard-on under his clothes. Your fingers find the waistband of his black compression pants and his briefs below them.

"Oh, stars, sunshine-" His words catch in his throat when you peel the fabric down, revealing his bare cock to you, exactly the way you remembered it. Fuck, you'd fantasized about this late at night, pushing your own fingers into your mouth, imagining how much their cocks might fill you. You can't help but lick your lips before gently wrapping your hand around the base, drawing soft curses from Fives' lips. Your tongue finds the head of his cock, giving it a few kitten licks before letting your lips wrap around it. You hum contentedly as you let him enter further into your mouth, gently licking and sucking and reeling with pride whenever you draw a noise out of him. When you take him in as far as you can go without gagging, you feel his hand coming to rest on top of your head and you let him guide your pace.

"Fuck, your mouth feels amazing, sweetheart. You- you wanna show the other guys what you can do too?"

You whine when he takes his cock out of your mouth, but then you realize he meant show them right now, at the same time, because both Rex and Echo have taken their compression pants off (and Rex his armor, too) and you're greeted by two more of their cocks, hard and leaking and so close to your face.

"My lucky day," you joke, but your heart is beating fast with the knowledge you haven't exactly done this before. You just hope you can give all of them the attention they deserve.

Rex stands closest to you, and his cock twitches as you reach to hold it. His hips jerk forward when you press your tongue flat against the underside, tracing a vein that runs all the way along it. Just like Fives, he reaches for your head -- when you take one of his balls into your mouth and suckle on it softly, his fingers tighten their grip into your hair, his breath hitching with every stroke of your hand along his cock. After you give the other ball some attention, you move back to his cock, bobbing your head along it gently until he suddenly thrusts forward, hitting the back of your throat, making you gag.

"Kriff, sorry-"

But you persevere, spurred on to try and take him even deeper even with tears forming in your eyes. The sounds of you struggling to take him down your throat are joined with the sounds of Fives and Echo stroking their own cocks lazily on either side of you. It's lewd, but deliciously so, and your cunt throbs knowing that it's the sight of you that's turning them on.

You swallow around Rex's cock and he curses again, pulling himself out of your mouth.

"I won't l-last long if you keep that up, beautiful," he says, wiping some saliva mixed with precum away from your chin. Your stomach flutters at the pet name, a silly youngling feeling that feels unfitting to the current situation, but you find yourself wanting to hear it again and again.

Instead you turn again to take care of Echo, who seems to be enjoying himself -- his hand is wrapped tightly around the base of his cock and he smiles down at you.

"Your turn, mister," you tease, and a small chuckle escapes his throat.

"Stars, baby, you’re so cute."

Smiling, you lick up the sizable drop of precum that has formed at the head of his cock, drawing small circles around the opening with your tongue. Then much like before, you try to fit as much of him inside you as possible until you gag again -- the unpleasant feeling is somehow unbearably arousing to you, just knowing that his cock is so big, knowing your throat and jaw will hurt after, it sends lightning straight down between your legs.

"Look at me, baby," Echo coos fondly, "that's right, you like my cock, don't you, pretty eyes?"

You nod weakly, turning your attention back to the rhythm you had found while hollowing out your cheeks, when he pulls out of your mouth.

"Gotta keep it fair," he says with a grin while you feel a pair of hands turning you around again.

You service the three of them like this for a while, switching between their cocks while using your hands on the others. You must be an obscene sight, lips swollen and plump, saliva dribbling down your chin, and with every passing minute you're grinding your hips more and more, rubbing your legs together to find pleasure.

"Getting needy, aren't you, sunshine?" Fives teases, his voice raspy as you stroke his cock which is now slippery and shiny with precum and your spit. You hum around Rex, who has gotten to the point where he's thrusting shallowly into your mouth. Your gag reflex seems to have been conquered for the time being. They do say practise makes perfect.

It's Rex who comes first with a groan, his cum filling your throat while he holds your head in place, your nose grazing the hairs around the base of his cock.

"Fuck," Fives says, his hand finding the back of your head, "open your mouth, sweetheart, that's it." You swallow as much of Rex's cum as you can in one go, then open your mouth wide, tongue sticking out. Rex lines himself up with your tongue, pumping his own cock in quick hard motions. He cums with a low, rumbling sigh and his release ends up mostly on your tongue, with some of it on your nose and cheek. Before you realize it, you hear Echo curse beside you and he also finishes, his cum landing on your face and chest, like a marking you're all too happy to wear.

The three of them seem pretty out of breath, and Rex sits down on your bed with a sigh. "Stars," he breathes, pulling the high collar of his shirt away from his neck to let in some cool air. "That was some kind of thank you."

It makes you giggle. He seems more at ease now, having been convinced by the benefits of this arrangement.

Seeing the three of them panting and sweating in your bedroom sends another molten shot of arousal straight to your cunt and you realize your underwear must be soaked by now.

Fives must have realized you were rubbing your legs together, a teasing edge appearing in his voice. "I think you enjoyed that just as much as we did, didn't you? Did that get you wet?"

"Mhm," you admit coyly, "very."

"I think we should do something about that."

With a yelp from you, Fives pulls you up off the floor with ease and you crash into his chest with his nose pressed into your hair.

"Why don't you lie down and let us take care of you?"

Your face turns hot and your cunt throbs with anticipation at his words. But there's one thing that needs to happen first. All of them are still a lot more dressed than you are.

"Shirts off first, all of you," you say with a grin, which they all return.

"Yes, general," Echo jokes, peeling his sweat-soaked undershirt over his head. Now all of them are naked before you, and you can see the differences in their bodies. Echo, despite being the lithest of the three, has the most defined musculature. Fives is slightly broader in the shoulders but narrower at the hips, and seemed to have a little bit of an edge in the body hair department. Rex is the broadest overall, and also the most scarred, with gashes and blaster burns all over his chest, arms, and back. All three of them are beautiful, perfect, and somehow in your bed.

You get comfortable on the mattress, back propped up against a pillow. Surprisingly, it's Rex who finds his way over to you first, the mattress dipping under his knees. He puts his hands (big, warm, calloused) on your knees and spreads your legs so he can get between them.

"B-been wanting to taste you for so long," he says, his voice a dark rumble that strikes you in your core.

"You better take what you want then, Captain." You're not sure where the daring edge in your tone comes from, but after just making three men come with just your hands and mouth, some confidence has gathered in your chest.

Rex slides your underwear off and spreads your lower lips with his thumbs, and you can hear him suck in a breath. Fives sits down on the bed next to you and chuckles.

"Naughty, so wet from sucking dick." You give him a playful nudge which turns into a desperate grasp the moment Rex starts licking your slit in long lines, his tongue putting pressure on your clit repeatedly.

"Oh, fuckkkk-" you moan, your head falling back onto Fives' shoulder. Echo has now sat down on the other side of you and has taken it upon himself to lazily stroke and pinch at your nipples, the small licks of pain making you whine louder. Rex's pace is relentless, not gentle at all, and you find yourself on the edge much sooner than expected. Your nails dig into Fives' arm when Rex adds his fingers into the mix, pumping them in and out and curving them to hit the perfect spot while he sucks hard on your clit until you see-

"Stars!" you cry out, your hips lifting themselves off the bed as you buck into his tongue, your first orgasm of the night hitting you hard and deep. Rex keeps his tongue pushed against you for a while longer, until you come down from your high, slumping back down into the mattress with your breathing heavy and your skin shiny.

"Didn't know you knew how to do that, Captain," Echo jokes, still playing with your tits almost absentmindedly.

Rex wipes some of your slick off his face with the back of his hand and grins. "There's a lot you don't know about me."

When he sits back up, you can't help but notice he's well on his way to being hard again -- so are the others. There's a glimmer of pride in your chest at the moan Fives lets out when you wrap your hands around his cock again. You roll over, knees tucked under you, and bend down to wrap your lips around him again. In this position, you realize your ass is up in the air at an inviting angle, and you spread your knees a little further apart to give the man behind you a good view. It works, because it only takes a few seconds for Rex to grab your ass roughly with both his hands. His fingers line up with the bruises he left there before, and you hope he remembered your plea for their renewal.

"Look at you… you need a cock to fill you up, don't you, sweetheart?”

You hum around Fives’ cock in response, who fists his hand in your hair.

“Or maybe…” Rex’s voice is dark and rumbling, a sound that goes straight to your cunt, but that’s not where he touches you next. His thumb brushes over your exposed asshole and you stop moving your hips instantly in surprise. "... more than one? Think you could do that for us?"

You let Fives' cock slide out of your mouth to reply, spit and precum leaving a stringy trail between you. "Yes, please, I'll be so good for you," you whine, wanting nothing more than precisely that, to be good, to be of use to them, to make them feel good because they deserve it, and you're giddy and proud that they want this from you and no one else.

There's a bottle of oil in your nightstand for occasions like these -- a gift from a friend months ago who swears by this brand, but you hadn't gotten much use out of it yet. After all his nervousness earlier, you were surprised Rex took charge now, although you suppose he had just needed some time to settle into this commanding role that seemed to come so naturally to him in everyday life. The three of them briefly discuss among themselves how they should take you, but you have a hard time paying attention to the specifics. You bite your lip at the thought of the three of them filling all of you, and you can't help but sneak your hand between your legs to put some pressure onto your throbbing clit.

"Uh-uh," Fives tuts at you with a crooked smile, "none of that, now." He grabs the offending hand first and then the other so you can't touch yourself anymore. He laughs when you pout, and it makes you want to kiss the corners of his mouth. "C'mere," he says, pulling you forward to straddle his lap, his erection pressed between your bellies. It feels good, being this close to him, your skin against his. His smirk is still there and so you do steal a kiss, softly rutting against him just to feel him moan into your mouth. "How about the two of us stay like this," he says in your ear, pulling you tighter towards him with a hand on your lower back, "and I get to see your pretty little face while the other guys fuck your ass, hm?" Oh stars above, nothing coherent can leave your mouth in response to that. You press your face into the crook of Fives' neck and whine a breathy please that makes him chuckle. "Alright then sunshine, up you get." His strong hands lift you upwards so you can position yourself over his cock. Like it's the best thing he's ever felt, his eyes flutter closed when you sink down onto him, giving an experimental roll of your hips that tightens his grip on your waist.

"Fuck, I forgot how fucking hot your pussy is," he groans, and you can tell he's exerting some self control not to start fucking your brains out right away. You feel another warm hand on your back and turn to catch a glimpse of Echo.

"Yeah, Fives, you do know how to pick 'em," he jokes softly, but there's something different about him -- out of the three of them, you keep feeling like Echo might not have been attracted to you as much, like he might be happier with some girl from 79's, but now… You wonder if he reeled his feelings in so he wouldn't hurt his friend-- no, maybe that was just your vanity talking. Regardless, you pull Echo in for a short kiss while slowly starting to move with Fives inside you.

The sound of the glass bottle opening behind you gives you goosebumps. Rex's silence feels like the calm before the storm, and you hold your breath in anticipation. The liquid is a little cold when it trickles onto your skin, and you notice Rex also put a generous amount on his hand as he spreads it out, circling your little hole with his thumb. He works one finger into you gently, but you can feel the stretch and you cling onto Fives' shoulders.

"You alright, sunshine?" he asks and you nod, soothed by his voice and the circles Echo is rubbing on your back. Rex works you open gradually with his fingers, adding more oil when needed while Fives whispers words of encouragement into your ear. He keeps his hips painfully still -- your cunt throbs around him and you know he can feel it, too, but he doesn't budge, not yet.

“You’re doing so well, sunshine. Do you think you’re ready?”

“Mmhm,” you murmur against the skin of his shoulder.

“Ask Captain Rex nicely, then.”

You tilt your head up to look at him in slight bewilderment, only to find a playful smirk on his face. Before you can think of what to say, Rex starts slowly pulling his fingers out, grazing them along the sensitive skin in and around your ass, and you whine as you bury your face in Rex’s neck again.

“P-please, captain,” you cry, “please, please.”

His hands firmly dig into your asscheeks, rough and purposeful.

“Please what?”

Your words come out stifled and choked, both held back by your embarrassment to say something so filthy out loud, and shaken up by desire.

“Please fuck my a-ass, I need your cock, Rex, please!”

“Well done, sweetheart,” he says in that low voice that makes you quiver. He lines his cock up with your ass and you can’t help but buck your hips back slightly. His hands take hold of your sides and he starts pushing himself in, splitting you open easily with the help of the oil.

You’re full, so very full, and it’s so much, on the edge of being painful but not quite. Every part of your skin that touches one of your lovers is on fire, burning with arousal like it did when you had those toxins in your body, but better, now that your mind is sound. Whenever you think he can’t go any deeper, he does, and all you can do is hold onto Fives, digging your nails into his skin in the process.

“Fuck, stars, you take me so well,” Rex says behind you.

Echo pets your hair softly. “How’s it feel, baby?”

“F-feels good,” you respond, your words slurring together. Now both Fives and Rex are holding still with you in between them. The waiting is unbearable, like when the ocean pulls back before its biggest waves, and you are waiting for the water to crash.

The smallest roll of your hips is all it takes -- Rex groans as he pulls out about halfway, then thrusts back into you. From below you, Fives starts tilting his hips upwards, and you feel your cunt getting wetter around his cock. With the way you’re lying forwards on his chest, your clit rubs against him every time Rex slams his hips forwards. They move faster and faster, their skin slapping against yours and all you can do is sob, warm tears of pleasure mixing with sweat as they roll down your cheeks.

You can take more. You want to take more, and you look up at Echo through your wet lashes, reaching out for him, trying to find your words.

“Echo,” you whine softly, “my mouth, you can-”

You don’t have to tell him twice. He shifts so his cock is directly in front of your face instantly, unbearably hard and leaking. Your mouth opens almost instinctively, tongue lolling out to taste as much of him as possible.

Rex chuckles behind you as each thrust of his hips forces Echo’s cock further down your throat as you moan around him.

“Seems I was right the first time,” he says, not halting his speed even a little bit, “you really are a good little whore, aren’t you?”

Fuck, why do those words turn you on so much? Being called names was never something you wanted, but the way he said it, in that fucking delicious voice of his, it set you on fire and makes your cunt clench eagerly.

“Kriff, you liked that, didn’t you? Got all tight around me.”

Your mouth is too full of Echo’s cock to answer, but your throat lets out a noise that Echo clearly likes, because he moans and his strong hand finds purchase on your scalp. They fuck you mercilessly, all three of them pounding and thrusting into your body while you bounce on Fives’ cock and grind your clit against him. There is a deep focus to it, this steady rhythm while holding Echo’s cock into your mouth, but it feels so good and so complete, all of you moving together, thinking of nothing else but chasing the pleasure building in your cunt, and once you start slamming your hips down at the same moment Fives thrusts his up, it’s like the ocean wave crashing into the shore with full force, dragging you along with it. You come hard, a white-hot orgasm that shakes you to your core. You let Echo’s cock slip out of your mouth the moment you scream, and Five holds you against his chest where you can hear the pounding of his heart.

Fives halts the relentless thrusting of his hips for a moment, but not Rex -- he gives you not a moment of rest as he uses your ass with the same ferocity he used your cunt back on that planet.

“Fuck, fuck,” he swears behind you, “I’m gonna fucking- gonna cum, gonna fill this t-tight little ass up, would you like that? You wanna take my cum like a g-good little whore?”

“Yes, please, Rex,” you sob in reply.

He buries his cock deep inside your ass, his grip on your hips so tight it hurts, and then suddenly you feel a hand in your hair at the back of your head. Rex grabs a handful of hair and pulls, lifting your head up and back. He keeps you there while he coats your insides with his release, swearing throughout it, before letting you fall back onto Fives’ chest.

Echo stands up from the bed the second Rex pulls out of you and switches places with him.

“You can take a little more, can’t you, baby?” Echo says, lining his cock up with your ass. Some incoherent noise comes out of you as an answer, and Echo pushes in. Rex has opened you up enough for him to enter you easily, but knowing he’s fucking Rex’s cum back inside of you fans the flames in your belly and you can’t help but start bucking your hips back to feel it more, while Fives’ cock is still hot and throbbing in your cunt.

“Look at you,” you hear Rex say, “you can’t get enough of it, can you? Fucking yourself on two cocks at the same time, and looking so pretty doing it.”

“Mmm,” Fives agrees, and you can hear he’s trying to keep his composure but his breathing is ragged as he comes closer to his own release, “such a pretty little cockslut.”

The way they talk to you spurs you on, which they probably intended, and you start riding Fives like your life depends on it, pushing your upper body up a little straighter so you can look at him. He’s beautiful like this, face flushed, beads of sweat between his knitted brows while he intensely chases his pleasure. As soon as you look him in the eye he grabs the back of your head to pull you down, your forehead to his forehead, your nose to his nose, his eyes closed.

“You’re so f-fucking perfect,” he mutters, then lets out a long groan while he spills inside you, his head crashing backwards into the pillow. Echo’s thrusts get shorter and faster now and you buck back against him, wanting to give everything you still have left inside you. Rex’s hand sneaks up between your body and Fives’ to find your clit.

“Cum one more time, sweetheart, I know you can, with two cocks inside you.”

It’s too much -- you want to, but you don’t know if you can, don’t you if you’re even capable.

“I-I can’t, I-” you try to plead, but he rubs your clit roughly and you sob, hot tears wetting your cheeks. Echo tenses up behind you and you know he’s going to finish soon but-

Slap.

Rex’s hand comes down and strikes your asscheek so hard you squeal.

“I said cum.”

You do. You can’t explain it, but you do, an almost painful orgasm coursing through you while the sting of the strike lingers. A curse leaves your mouth but is caught by Fives’ lips pressing to yours and his tongue in your mouth. Echo spills his release into your ass with a moan, and with all three of their loads inside you, you have never felt so full.

After Echo pulls out, you climb off of Fives and let yourself fall backwards onto the mattress, every inch of you covered in sweat. Rex leans over to move some hair out of your face.

“Was that too much?” he asks, and the gentleness in his voice is almost heartbreaking.

“No,” you answer, a blissful smile on your face from how unbelievably good you’ve been fucked, “that was just right.” He leans over to press a kiss to your forehead, and you feel an ever so slight trace of stubble on his jaw, less than a day’s growth. You’ve never thought about him shaving, but you’d like to watch him do it, some day. Fives sits up, grabs your hand and puts it to his lips, pressing a firm kiss to your knuckles. Moments later, Echo appears with a towel from your closet and starts cleaning you up, dabbing the cloth between your thighs where their cum has started trickling out of you.

“So,” you start, grinning playfully “are we even, now?”

Rex chuckles and gets up off the bed to find his underclothes -- no doubt duty will call for him again soon. You feel so, so lucky, that these three men have chosen to spend what little free time they have with you, and a warmth spreads through your chest as you look at them, eyes half-lidded from drowsiness.

“Not a chance,” he jokes, stepping into his briefs.

Fives lets go of your hand and strokes your cheek with his thumb, grinning down at you, and Echo, too, has a smile on his face. Rex kisses your forehead one more time.

“You won’t get rid of us that easily.”

[shintin]

Forget Me Not: Chapter 25 (Promises)

↳ Gojo Satoru x Female Reader

Description: Imagine that from the moment you opened your eyes into this world, you had no choice but to kill and shed the blood of others, that you had to fight alongside Toji Fushiguru and die with him.

What would you do when they force you to do something you don't like? When the torment of conscience presses on your throat, will you give up? Now think about a day that life gives you another chance; how would you use it?

This is the story of a murderer who seeks salvation. Will she find it in the arms of Satoru Gojo? Or will pain find her sooner than redemption and drive her out of heaven forever?

Genre: heavy angst, sad love story, maybe tragedy, violence, lonely hearts, broken souls, +18.

Tags/Warnings: Slight NSFW.

Author Note: OK. I have news for you. I will be out of the country in the coming weeks (I have a medical issue), so I will probably not be able to update this story, but I will try to write the second chapter of my other story (Her: A Memoir). My maximum hiatus will last 3 weeks.

Song Recommendation: Secret love song - Little mix

Chapter index -> Next chapter

Year: 2019

Yuji saw it all.

He saw how his Sensei began to run through the dim hallways of the school on that cold winter day. He saw Satoru standing in front of Y/N's room, calling out to her, panting. But there was no response. Yuji watched as he reached into his pocket and pulled a key to open the door with trembling hands.

'Why does Gojo Sensei have the key to Y/N's room?' Yuji's eyebrows curved upwards, wrinkles formed on his forehead, and the whites of his eyes became visible.

At that point, nothing came to Yuji's mind, so he followed his Sensei into the room and stood at Y/N's door. Satoru quickly turned his head, and Yuji was able to see his sleepless eyes and drawn-back lips.

'Why is he worried?' With a smile, Yuji walked inward and greeted Sensei to say hello, but it was as if somebody else had stolen Satoru's body. He didn't have his usual grin and turned to his student with wide eyes and tensed body.

"Where is Y/N?" As Satoru spoke, his voice was sharp; then, he was on the verge of tears before Yuji knew it. He tried desperately to hide it; he kept his face straight and stern words.

Today, Satoru did not have time to sugarcoat his words. His heart was not far from tearing off his chest and leaping out of it.

No later than yesterday, he received a message from Shoko while he was on a mission. Y/N had been injured on a mission, accompanied by Yuji and Maki, exorcizing a high-ranked curse in an orphanage.

The physical injuries weren't something Y/N couldn't handle herself, but when they were about to leave, the orphans surrounded them to thank them for their help, and the tragedy began just down there. Without knowing what they were causing, the poor kids had started to embrace Y/N and clung to her arms.

According to Ijichi's report, he and the others had tried to distance the kids from her. Still, she had pointed them to stay away, "They don't deserve all this grief!" was her statement. She voluntarily stood there and absorbed the load of negative energy into herself. As a result, she passed out.

'My silly little angel! She sees salvation in the sacrifice.' Satoru thought as soon as he heard the news.

But what bothered him the most was that, according to Shoko, her injuries hadn't healed. Why? Why wasn't she able to heal them the way she was before? Why was she wounded when faced with the first-grade curse? On missions, he had seen how Y/N overcome the special-grade curses in the blink of an eye. There was something wrong with her, and the lack of knowledge about it had added to his anxiety.

And now Satoru - standing in the middle of her room and looking at Yuji's shocked face- hated himself for not being able to be with her yesterday. He was on a mission, but he exorcised all the curses during the night to be with her today. But she was nowhere to be found. 'Why on earth did she hide her cursed energy between school walls?' Satoru hated this.

By the way, about a month and a half had passed since their secret relationship. Oh, sorry, did I say relationship? As far as I know, a relationship refers to the way two or more persons feel and behave toward each other with their desire.

But as far as we knew, Y/N's feelings for Satoru probably stemmed from the binding vow between them. That's why he was found in the library years later to find a way to break the stupid vow. Death seemed to be the only way out from it. So there was no way for him to find out about her real feelings. So what did he do? Nothing! He chose selfishly to keep that fact to himself and not share it with Y/N. Why?

Because of

Obsession.

Fear.

Love.

Three words tormented him day and night the past few weeks.

When Y/N held his face between her hands and looked at him with a smile, Guilt whispered in his ear: "You don't deserve this love, liar!"

She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest, and all Satoru heard was the deep, grating voice of Fear saying, "She's going to leave you as soon as she finds out everything."

He held her in his arms at night, as if hiding her between his wings, but Guilt had sharp eyes. "You can't hide the truth forever. Her eyes and ears won't be blind and deaf, you will lose her eventually."

Satoru knew that he was no longer a lover; he was a liar with a messed-up brain. A coward who couldn't confront reality.

Yuji scratched his neck, but fear took Satoru's mouth to speak before he could answer. "Did she leave?" Oh boy, he was addicted to a losing game.

"What? No ..." Yuji raised his eyebrows. "She's probably gone for a walk. Why, did something happen to make Y/N want to leave?" But before waiting for Yuji to finish, Satoru stuffed his hands into his pockets and passed by him, leaving her room.

The sound of a disgusting laugh filled the room. "Only love can make you that crazy, and that's damn stupid!" The mouth under Yuji's eyes had begun to speak. "You sorcerers are the dumbest creatures in every era." Yuji frowned and slapped himself hard. "Shut up, Sukuna!"

'What was Sukuna talking about? Why did Gojo Sensei seem scared of not finding Y/N here? Why the possibility of Y/N's absence is upsetting me?'

Yuji took a deep breath, shut the door to her room, and went away. Gojo and Sukuna got him worried. Was Y/N in danger? He didn't know, so he took the path to the backyard as well.

Satoru had not yet walked a few steps up the hill when his eye fell upon Y/N. She was sitting on the same bench as five months ago, staring at the view. When he saw her, a warmth took hold of his heart. Some things haven't changed. But Fear was there to slap him hard in the face. "And there are things that change forever. Like when someone leaves the other and never comes back."

The ache in his chest prevented him from taking a deep breath. He slowly approached Y/N; She would make everything alright; after all, she was his guardian angel, right?

"You love this scenery..." After hearing Satoru's voice, Y/N turned her head and looked at the white-haired man walking toward her. Quickly a smile appeared on her lips; She got up and walked to her lover.

His blue eyes met hers. As he leaned to kiss her, his hands moved to her neck, fingers spreading across her chin.

"Shame on you!" The Guilt awoke and crushed Satoru's heart—Pain... pain... pain.

Satoru clung to Y/N's arms, even more than before, and pressed his lips tighter as if she could save him. Like she would want to hold him after all of his lies...

Satoru's hands were strong, and Y/N could sense the pain in her arms, but she didn't object. She had missed him a lot, and a little pain wasn't something worth ruining the moment they had.

Satoru pulled away and looked at her, memorizing her curly eyelashes, the shape of her smiling lips, the curvature of her chin, the cuteness of her red nose. "She will never touch you again." Fear sent shivers down his spine.

"I missed you, Satoru." She stood on her toes and embraced her arms around his neck.

'No... No... Everything was a joke. Y/N is mine. See... she actually loves me.'

Satoru's arms tightened around Y/N, and he dipped his head into the crook of her neck. She smelled like the ocean on a summer day. Just like the first time. Like when he was sitting here, without knowing she was his missing piece. He rubbed her back, pressing her towards himself. He needed her to hold him.

"Your wounds, do they hurt a lot?" He asked with a gentle tone, brushing her hair.

"Not anymore." She ran her hand through his hair and felt the roughness of his undercut with her fingertips.

"You can't save everyone, Y/N." He whispered in her ears.

"I wasn't trying to save everyone, just the ones who are wronged by the Gods." She kissed his shoulder, his neck, and his throat.

Satoru lifted his head from her grip and brushed a piece of hair from her face. "This world doesn't deserve you, Y/N. I don't deserve you." Then he kissed her again, without waiting, without permission, without deciding to do it, because he couldn't do anything else to ease the pain in his lungs. He needed to breathe her.

She was there to save him. Once she kissed him back, his breath returned. His heartbeat slowed down, and every muscle in his body relaxed. He was terrified of the way he needed her. She had his sanity in the palms of her hands.

He leaned back, something welling up in his chest every few minutes. "Better liar, worse lover," Guilt mocked him.

"I want you, Y/N, you know that, right? I want all of you, I want you inside and out..." He looked at Y/N as if waiting for confirmation from her. It was as if she was the only one who could save him from the guilt he was drowning in.

Y/N took a deep breath. What sadness did Satoru feel in his heart? Why was he upset?

"Damn you, Y/N! Why do you keep quiet? Is it too much that I want you to ache for me as I do for you? Don't you have any affection for me?" He shook her shoulders. He was acting like a drug-seeking junkie. Crazy, impatient, and ferocious.

Y/N looked into his eyes. No, he didn't look normal. "Satoru, why are you in pain? You've been like this for the past few weeks. What's eating you alive? Why do you avoid talking every time?"

She placed her hands on his shoulders and looked into his eyes. "I'm here for you, always, you can talk to me, Satoru." A worried smile painted delicately across her face.

Y/N's hand slipped out of Satoru's shoulders toward his heart. "Let me make your sorrow mine, that you might have help in bearing it. Let me have my share of it, just as you share your happiness with me."

She had a weakness for him, a desire to make him happy, a longing for his smile. He was something she couldn't resist.

"No!" Satoru removed her hand from his chest and held it firmly in his. She wasn't afraid of Satoru's behavior. 'No, he would never ever hurt me.'

"My sorrow is mine! I'm the responsible of my pains! I'm the one who has to bear my plights, not you!" His voice was heavy with shame, the same way his guilt weighed down upon his shoulders. "The pain of others is killing you! Look at yourself Y/N, you can't heal your wounds, but you want to help me! How is this fair?" His chest contracted.

"Satoru...you..." Her voice trembled. "Satoru, you are not yourself."

"Why? I can't fucking care about you?" How did anger find his way to his words? He didn't know, but he frightened Y/N because she took a step back from him. She couldn't recognize the man before her, anymore.

"I'm sorry, Y/N; Please...please don't walk away from me." His voice was soft, almost fragile as if it and his heart would break any minute. Perhaps his heart was already broken. "Let me be the owner of your sorrows tonight, keeping your worries out of sight. Take all of my hopes and have a peaceful sleep. Let me mourn for you tonight and weep. Let me see how it feels to have others' pain in the heart. I want to take you to the world of sweet dreams. Please let me take your pains tonight." There was a bitter smile on his face.

"Don't worry about me. I'll be okay, I'm the strongest, I can handle everything, I can fix everything, you trust me, right?" A rain of despair poured upon his words.

Y/N looked at Satoru hesitantly, but he unzipped his uniform, kissed the palm of her hand, and placed it over his heart. It was cold, but he didn't care about anything. His sins were about to find him, and he was willing to accept whatever would come from her—what a way to punish yourself for biting the forbidden fruit.

Y/N surrendered, closed her eyes, and it was at that moment that Satoru's heart twitched with pain.

Have you ever felt like even your lover's pain is sweet? Satoru did.

His greatest moment of intimacy wasn't the day he took all of her clothes off, but it was now when she shared her pain with him and let him witness the most vulnerable part of her being. She showed her cursed nature to a jujutsu sorcerer. She revealed her most hated side, her ugliest scar, and despite all of this, he leaned and kissed her even harder, arms winding tight around her...

"She trusts you with her life, and you misuse it." Guilt shook their head.

"Y/N? "Enough is enough. He had to confess everything to her.

But she grabbed the lapels of his uniform, whispering: "I'm dying for you, Satoru...make me come to life again."

Satoru's eyes widened. Before he could say anything, she kissed him. But he pulled her away and looked at her eyes and the strands of hair on her cheeks. She meant everything to him. He kissed her like he was about to die. Licking, sucking, and retaining the very taste of her.

And Yuji saw it all! Standing far away from them, frozen in his spot.

Anger permeated his being. He liked his Sensei, but he knew that Satoru Gojo was nothing but a heartbreaker, and he didn't want that for Y/N. Yuji's fists clenched, but he felt another hand on his shoulder before taking a step. He turned around and noticed Megumi.

"Calm down! This has nothing to do with us. They love each other." Megumi said softly.

"But ..." Yuji turned his head, but there was no sign of Y/N or Satoru anymore.

Suddenly, Y/N felt the air around them shift, and her back hit a wall. She blinked a couple of times. It was dark all over. 'Where are we?' But before she could think any further, he grabbed her by the throat but didn't choke her. He was kissing her so deeply to make her forget whose air she was breathing.

"Sato..." He was all heat and desire, and she wanted more. Her voice rang like Beethoven's Moon Walk Sonata in Satoru's heart. All pain.

'Just for the last time... just once more,' He repeated to himself.

He kissed her again and again. Each time stronger than before; after all, it was his last chance to have the feeling of her lips against his. "I wish you were mine," he murmured, brushing his nose to her cheek, taking a deep breath.

"I'm yours, Satoru." She leaned her head to the wall in pleasure. Satoru raised his head and looked at her eyes. Lust? Love? What was in her eyes? He couldn't point it out.

He grabbed her hands tight. She knew this was where he wanted her tonight. Against the wall, hands pinned above her head.

His hands opened the buttons of her coat, curving them beneath her shirt. He wasn't thinking straight. All he wanted to do was feel every curve and edge of her body. His palms reached under her bra, and his fingers touched the softness of them. Suddenly his hands stopped. 'What am I doing?'

She lowered her hands and started to unbutton her own shirt. Her hands were shaking. She didn't know that she had yearned for his touch this much.

To be honest, Y/N never liked to be touched; it was a strange dislike. That was not the case with Satoru. She craved him too much that she was willing to let him have her in every way he liked. She wanted to be held by him like he was the only one who could prevent her from breaking while trusting him not to shatter her into pieces.

She unbuttoned his shirt, too, and grabbed his collar, dragging him closer to herself. Now she could feel his hardness through his pants. Her fingers hooked around the waist of Satoru's pants, moving her hands to unbutton and unzip them.

Satoru followed the movement of her fingers with his gaze. He was going to miss these hands. No one knew how soothing was her touch. Her touch was only meant for him, and now he was on the verge of losing it.

Every bone, every muscle, every nerve in his body wanted her. "Don't continue, idiot! She's gonna hate you! Do the right thing for once in your lifetime." Fear brought his senses back. He took Y/N's hand and stopped her. He raised his head and looked into her eyes.

He brushed sweaty hair off her forehead. "Kiss me like you'd do if you loved me, Y/N..." he said. Her face in between his large hands, his thumb doing this circling motion on her cheeks, making it hard for her to concentrate. His eyes were pleading and begging for something she couldn't pinpoint, and suddenly, she felt like she was holding his life in the palms of her hands. She could crush him with just a word, kill him, stab him...

"I can't," she said. The pain that crossed his eyes shot directly into her heart. She pressed her lips lightly on his. "I can't, for I already do."

In the darkness of the room, she saw his sad crystalline eyes. It was the kind of sadness that transformed him into someone else entirely. She realized that she'd never seen him like this before. He looked so soft and vulnerable.

His hand brushed her cheek, holding her like it was their last time together.

"What is wrong, Satoru?" She loosened her grip and looked at him with worried eyes.

"The wrong is that I love you too...Y/N." The impact of his words hit her. He continued. "I have loved you since the day I was laying on my death bed. Ever since, what I've felt has only grown. My thoughts can't fucking move without constantly being drawn back to you!" His voice cracked, his hands dropping.

What was this feeling? Why was he the most beautiful thing she had ever seen? She could feel something inside her was ripped apart, and it felt like fear, tasted like anxiety and depression. Were these Satoru's feelings?

"You're it, you're my world," he met her eyes. "But you are not mine, nor will you ever be. All your feelings for me are because of this goddamn binding vow! I made you unconditionally loyal to myself; I forced you to love me!" He even took responsibility for the binding vow that he did not know its consequences.

Y/N was speechless and didn't know how to understand the portrait in front of her.

She just stared with wide-open eyes that she couldn't shut while the whole world was breaking apart around her. She didn't even shake; she stood there in total paralysis without realizing what would happen after this.

"Forgive me, Y/N. Believe me, I didn't want that..." The words that had been burning inside of him finally came to the surface. "I love you. I love everything about you, but you don't belong to me..." his voice trembled.

Y/N looked him in the eye, disbelieving. 'What is he talking about? Is this one of his stupid jokes again?' And her gaze searched his face. 'No, he is not lying.'

"How long have you known this?" When she spoke, it sounded like her voice was made of sadness. Her teary eyes closed, and a single tear, as clear as spring rain, flowed down her cheeks.

"Three weeks." Satoru lowered his head. He knew Y/N would never forgive him.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" She grabbed his chin and raised his head. 'How could those ever-smiling eyes be so sad and begging?' And suddenly, her heart ached with pain. 'Was that the same sorrow that kept him from sleeping?'

"I didn't want to lose you." He couldn't look at her eyes—shame... shame... shame.

She had no idea how hard it was to see someone you loved with a sad face. She always knew about the burden he was carrying in his heart; she just didn't know what it was, or where it would lead.

Memories of those few weeks were in front of her; she remembered how he could make her heart tremble with just a smile, but she realized the amount of pain hidden behind those happy moments. And the reality broke the glass of happiness. Now breathing felt like a choke, and her eyes fell to closed. She waited a moment as if she was in extreme pain.

"Y/N?" Satoru worriedly reached out to take her hand, but it stopped a few inches away. He couldn't see the courage in himself to contaminate her pure soul with the filth of his lies.

Hearing her lover's soft voice, she opened her eyes, took a deep breath, and started to talk, words tripping and stumbling out of her. "I'm a black ship Satoru, and I'm not a human, and that was what I missed the most. I'm something you can exorcize. I'm a fucking half-curse, for God's sake..." She tried to pull herself together before speaking again, but suddenly her eyes saw the movement in his throat. The effort he was making to keep still. His eyes were terrified.

"But you treated me equally. You were the only one who saw my half-human side, and for a long time, I felt that is the reason behind why you are the only one who can touch me without causing me pain. You don't consider me as a curse. In a world where everyone is trying to kill me, you were the only one who saved me, even if you didn't do it for me ..." Satoru opened his mouth to object but promptly closed it.

"Maybe what I feel for you isn't love. I'm not used to love, I don't know how it feels but I know that it wasn't nothing either." Satoru felt the warmth in her voice, and the rays of hope appeared on his face, shifting the corners of his lips imperceptibly upward.

"And perhaps it was just stolen glances in the long corridors of the school, and laughing a little too much at each other's ridiculous jokes; But... but I know that I paused every time before breathing your name. I thought about you before I fell asleep, the things we said, the way you looked at me... about the silent moments we shared... your laughs... after years I dreamed, and it was all about you, Satoru."

She raised her hand and took the face of the man she loved between her hands. "It doesn't matter to me if those feelings are true or not. They are real to me."

A tear slowly ran down his face as she stared into his ocean blue eyes. He could see that she was on the brink of crying as well. He leaned his forehead on hers.

"You're the most caring human being on earth, the most selfless, loving person I will ever know." He kissed her temple. "You're gorgeous, you're sweet, you're beautiful in so many ways. Not just the way your hair looks like in the wind or how people stare at you while you walk. You're beautiful for who you are, and I love it." His eyes were red.

"Satoru..." She looked up at him with tears in the corner of her eyes.

"Let me finish what I started. You think you're less than everyone else. You think that because you have flaws, you're some type of mistake, you think that you're worthless, and that's not true!" Eventually, she stopped trying and lowered her head in a quiet sob.

Tonight, she was maybe the luckiest woman in the world! Hearing things that no one had ever whispered in her ears.

He ran his fingers through her hair and brushed it back. In the darkness of the house, they stood half-naked facing each other, staring into each other's eyes. He leaned over and kissed her forehead. "You're the only one that I will ever want; I belong to you. You're my home. I need you. You're the only thing that matters."

His hands circled her waist. He had finally found the peace he was looking for in the arms of a veteran murderer, a sinful angel, and she was his.

Y/N's hands wrapped around his neck. She had finally found her redemption in the arms of a miracle, a blessed devil named Satoru Gojo, and she was happy.

"I love you, Satoru, I will love you always and forever..." She promised.

"I love you, Y/N. You're my forever." He promised.

But they didn't know promises are like hearts; they are meant to be broken.

Tag list for Forget Me Not: @wobblewobble822 @imaginationisme @itsmekalou @yukianzaiii @halveablock @selahna @grade1sorcerer @crazyotakugal @insoukesboarmask @gojothealaskaboyph @their1andonly @dabithetouya @whyispistashanuttaken @godtieruwu @chippyroh @where-are-you-

[whimsicallyreading]

An angsty one-shot for your day. I stayed up way too late to write this.

CW- drinking

Aelin keeps the letters stacked neatly on her desk.

Each letter is stamped, addressed, and ready to mail. In tiny marks on the back, she writes the date every individual one was written. The envelopes are his favorite shade of green. A deep, pine color that she’d painstakingly scoured every stationary shop to find.

Delicately, Aelin seals the latest envelope and adds it to the growing pile.

My Love,

It’s almost winter here in Orynth. I know it’s your favorite season and you are probably sad to miss out, so I took a Polaroid of the clouds coming in over the staghorns for you.

Do you remember how we’d sit in front of Mistward every year and watch the first snow storm come in over the peeks? We would drink hot chocolate and talk for hours. About our families, our futures, anything and everything. It’s still one of my favorite traditions.

In fact, it’s where I am right now. Writing this letter to you. Just because you are overseas doesn’t mean you get to bail out. I bought two hot chocolates, but I suppose I’ll have to drink yours for you. What a shame.

Writing to Rowan was her weekly tradition since he got deployed. No matter how busy life got, every Friday she wrote him two full pages front to back. Whether she got to sit at her desk or had to scribble against the rusty bench at the bus stop, every inch was covered in her hand writing.

That was her personal rule. They had to be handwritten. Aelin felt it meant more that every piece of the letter was entirely from her. So she keeps a collection of colored pens handy for whenever the urge to speak to her husband grows to be too much.

At the bottom of the last page, next to her signature, Aelin always kisses the paper with red lipstick. Maybe it’s cheesy, but it’s the same shade she wore at their wedding.

You could see the ghosts of the color along his jawline in their favorite photos together. His beaming smile, the smudges of red on his face and the collar of his white dress shirt. A remnant from the happiest day of her life she thought would bring him comfort.

My love,

Winter is here! It’s so cold outside. You would say it’s this frigid every year, but it just feels different this time. Maybe it’s because you aren’t hear to snuggle up with and your side of the bed is empty? You were always so warm.

I keep your slippers by the couch. They are ridiculously huge on my feet, but I swear they still feel like you just walked in them. Your warmth is still there.

You would laugh if you saw me hobbling around the apartment in them. My toes slide all over the place. Truthfully, your feet are atrociously large, dear- Still they remind me of you, so I love them.

Aelin gets home late from work that night.

Humiliated tears sting her cheeks, even as she rubs them away. The feeling of that creep, Cairn’s, hands lingering on her ass.

She was used to fending off handsy patrons. What bothered Aelin is that when she complained to her boss, Erawan, he publicly berated her for instigating the customers.

None of the other waitresses would meet her eye when she looked for back up. Grave, the bartender, sniggered through the entire dressing down. Aelin could still feel their eyes on her skin as Erawan accused her of being provocative.

Rowan would have demanded she quit the job. He would have marched down to the bar and broken Cairn’s face. Possibly even held him back so Aelin could do it herself.

Aelin needs the money, though. Rowan’s accounts were frozen due to some stupid technicality at the bank. Without her paycheck, she would lose the apartment.

Sniffling, Aelin slides her feet into Rowan’s slippers and plops at her desk. It isn’t Friday yet, but she’s desperate to speak to him.

As her hand flows across the paper, Aelin knows she won’t describe the days events to him. He’s under enough stress without her work drama adding to his worries.

My love,

Yulemas is next week. Aedion is in Caraverre with Lysandra and our new nephew. Lorcan and Elide are going up from Perranth to stay with them, but the roads are so frozen in Orynth I may just stay here this year.

Besides, work is busy right now. They need someone to man the place for the people with nowhere to go for the holidays.

Maybe I’ll host a little celebration at the bar. Like we did that one year when we got stuck in the Hostel in Rifthold. We made the best of a bad situation, and it was the first time you told me you loved me. I think I’d like to relive a little of that this year.

I miss you. Please come home.

Aelin lays in her bed the night before Yulemas and sobs.

Ugly, guttural noises spill from her chest and she soaks their pillows with tears. The newest envelope is clutched against her chest, and the building stacks mock her from their spot across the room.

Her heart is so raw. Aelin knew it was a bad idea to count the letters, but there was so many. Curiosity got the better of her, and now she was bleeding for her mistake.

Fifty-six.

A full year of letters she hadn’t been able to send.

Rowan had only ever written her twenty before he was declared missing in action.

A year ago, she’d been hanging bobbles and decorating a tree knowing her husband only had a few weeks left of his tour.

Aelin had painted a welcome home banner, and her whole family made plans to come and spend the holiday with the soon-to-be-reunited couple.

She had his slippers waiting by the door. Rowan’s favorite blanket was laundered and folded on his side of the bed in case he wanted to lay down. Aelin had it on good authority that the bed would be one of the first places they visited when he arrived. Emerys had even given her a mixture of their favorite hot chocolate to make.

Everything was perfectly in place for his return.

That’s what when the soldiers arrived at her door and her world fell apart.

Lorcan came home a week later. He hugged Elide and she cried into his shoulder. Happy tears. So unlike the ones Aelin had been shedding. Her friend beamed ear-to-ear, as the love of her life gathered her into his arms and squeezed.

It was a touching sight, but Aelin could feel the hot knife being twisted in her chest. Elide’s happiness caused her physical pain, and it made her feel so selfish. She didn’t begrudge Lorcan his life, or Elide her joy- Aelin just missed her own husband.

Elide and Lorcan spent Yulemas together. Kissing and holding hands. Lysandra finally announced her pregnancy. Aedion’s expression when he opened the box with the baby onesie inside was priceless. Her cousin whooped and hollered, almost dancing with the prospect of becoming a father.

Aelin smiled. She gave her congratulations and celebrated with her family. They hugged, and laughed. Aedion took care to include her in everything, and she played her part even as she tried to ignore the concerned looks her family exchanged behind her back.

Aelin made it to lunch before she couldn’t take it anymore.

Fenrys was the one to find her having a panic attack on the bathroom floor. She hadn’t even known it was a panic attack. Aelin just assumed the pain of losing her soulmate was finally killing her. The tightening of her chest and the body aches felt enough like a heart attack to be convincing.

He gathered Aelin in his arms and counted breaths with her. His twin brother Connal was lost in the same fight where Rowan had gone down. Fen had seen the whole thing from the cockpit of his plain, and nothing he did could’ve saved them.

He shared his pain, and for the first time Aelin felt like someone understood her.

Fenrys let her lean on him as they excused themselves from the celebrations. They drove to some bar in Caraverre and spent the rest of the day wallowing over whiskey.

Aedion came to collect their drunken asses later that evening. Worry etched into every line of his kind face. It only made her feel ashamed that she’d rained all over their happy day.

He was going to be a father, and she’d forced him to spend his time fretting over her instead of reveling in that news.

Now here she was a year later. Aelin wasn’t going to subject herself to that again. Couldn’t. She wouldn’t force her grief upon anyone else this year, either. Just because she was hurting didn’t mean that everyone else had to suffer with her.

So, as Yulemas Eve came, and before she could finally distract herself with work, Aelin pulled Rowan’s blanket over herself. She’d spritzed it with his cologne, donned his shirt, and pulled his socks over her feet. Aelin did everything she could to feel surrounded by him.

Then, alone in their bed, she watched as the clock ticked down to midnight.

Rowan,

Wherever you are, I hope my words reach you and that you know you aren’t alone. I wish with every ounce of my being that I could trade places with you- would give anything, just to know where you are.

It breaks my heart, to be without you. Every breath seems pointless. I lied in my last letter. The roads aren’t frozen. I’m not needed at work. No one really needs me to be around them. I just couldn’t spend another holiday surrounded by happy people when the other half of my heart is gone from me.

When you come home, I will feel like celebrating again. I’ll wrap my arms around you, and we can make up for lost time. Just please, don’t make me wait too much longer.

Merry Yulemas, my love. We will be together again one day.

Until then, I’ll keep on writing, only so long as you don’t yield.

Sincerely, your loving wife

Aelin