#i didn’t really know where this one was going lol

[clockwork-hearted]

This was the first queer movie I watched in high school. I remember finally having good, strong WiFi and exploring YouTube one night. Was using my refurbished MacBook that I begged my dad to get me so I can have something to use for school.

I don’t remember how exactly I came across this movie (honestly was probably going through some YouTube rabbit hole of “movies where guys make out” or the classic “two men kissing” search), but it was the full length movie. And it was free.

I was so excited to watch it and see what kind of guy on guy action I would get to see. But being forced to stay in the closet growing up, I couldn’t just outright watch this movie while my parents were home.

So I bookmarked it. Made sure I even saved the link somewhere. And had to wait until my parents weren’t home.

Thankfully, I ended up realizing that I was a teen that was allowed to stay up late on the weekends. So I stayed up, waited until both my parents were in their rooms, fast asleep, and then I went into my room, closed the door (couldn’t lock it though. Locking bedroom doors was an offense that would cause a scene every time for absolutely no reason), plugged my headphones in, and snuggled up and watched it.

I remember sitting upright to start it then getting tired and deciding to lay down. Ended up laying the laptop on its side just so I could keep watching haha

And I remember going through the rollercoaster of emotions seeing these two characters having a connection but being so twisted up about it. Regardless of everything they went through, I still wanted that. I still wanted someone I could kiss passionately. Someone I could go to bed with and wake up next to in our own little world. Someone I could go to the beach with and spend all day with. Someone who wanted to push me for my abilities (don’t have any but it played into my fantasies lol) and strive to be the best I could be at them.

And then reaching the end of the movie and being so happy with it. I remember crying. Crying so much that I thought I wasn’t going to be able to stop. I remember shoving my face in my pillows to try and muffle my crying.

Oh, I learned to cry silently so very quick in my home. How I learned what it meant to be even more suppressed than I already was. How I had to learn to hold back all the choking sounds my throat would utter and just let the tears flow. Silently blowing my nose into tissues so I wouldn’t wake my parents and cause a scene.

“Why are you crying? What’s happening? What did you watch? What’s going on? Etc. etc. etc.” - yeah, like I was going to come clean about my emotions and be able to talk these things out. Pht. How I wished and how I dreamed that I could. Would’ve made growing up easier. But I didn’t have those kinds of parents.

So the first night I watched this movie, it meant a lot in such little time. Movies like this really saved me as a teen.

I started doing a deep dive into any and all other queer movies I could find online for free (but that’s a story for a different time).

Tbh, I had forgotten about this gem of a movie. Made me feel a little guilty for forgetting, mostly because it really helped me continue pretending, and knowing that one day I would find someone to experience beautiful moments with. It allowed me to realize that queer media (that wasn’t porn) was out there, that I didn’t have to feel alone, and that it was only a few key strokes and google searches away.

For anyone who read through this whole thing (I know I blabbed, but I really needed to get this off my chest and my mind), thank you.

And I also hope that even though the world can feel so against you, even in spaces that are supposed to be safe, that there are people out there that know and understand you and can relate to how you feel.

I know it’s always easier said than done, but hang in there. And if it all gets to be too suffocating, please remember there are resources out there to help. But please, please, please, don’t get snuffed out. Let yourself burn as bright as you can. Because at the end of the day, you will always find Shelter- whether it’s with family members, friends, teachers, chosen/adoptive families, online communities, etc. you will find it. And you will be safe. And you will be loved.

I wish you all the very best. May this movie and many others bring you as much joy as it did to me. <3

Shelter (2007) dir. Jonah Markowitz

[rubiehart]

LOOK AFTER YOU…

pairing: jj maybank x bsf!reader

summary: an alternative universe to my own bsf!reader, where her parents aren’t supportive of her and jj’s relationship and the consequences of that.

warnings: graphic description of injuries, mentions of physical, mental and verbal abuse, underage use of tobacco, hurt/comfort.

a/n: literally came up with this in ten minutes and binge wrote it in an hour, wasn’t even initially gonna be based on any song but this one just fit so well so why no lol. i guess this is kinda the start of my comeback for the new year, hope you all love ♡︎

♪ Look After You - The Fray ♪

Honestly, JJ didn’t know how he ended up dating the girl who’d been his best friend since elementary school, how sharing beds after a long day of surfing in middle school turned into them smushed up against each other only three years later, limbs tangled and breath mingling, completely drunk off of each other, completely enamoured by the other like it was the first glimpse.

He knew she was a bitch sometimes, he knew she was sweet sometimes, but only ever around him and when they’d completely stripped each other of every wall they’d put up, emotions raw and throat’s even more so from whatever had gone on with their own parents in the place they were supposed to call home. Neither of them knew the meaning until that night.

That one night that changed the entire rest of their lives, for better or worse? Neither of them knew. The night when they both separately hit rock bottom. Absolutely nothing to lose, now. The lowest of the low. Hell.

She’d just been kicked out by her parents for good, and it really was official this time. Something stupid she’d done with JJ that really wasn’t as serious as they were making it seem, but it seemed to be the straw that broke the camel’s back, the final push that made them force all their walls up against JJ, but they were a team, two halves of a whole, so in her eyes, if they were denying JJ they were also denying her, and she didn’t have time or the energy to deal with people like that, so she up and left that night. Sending JJ a quick text before shoving her dying phone in the pocket of her battered shorts and setting off to where she knew he’d go to first.

Unbeknownst to her, JJ’s situation was similar, something simmering on a low heat in Luke’s body for a few days previous, a few too many pills popped and he was ready to burst, and who better to take it out on that his sixteen year old son? No one, supposedly. This is how JJ ends up shoving open the door to the wooden lodge he’s supposed to call home, body aching as he forces himself down the steps, stumbling on an already bruised leg, until he reaches the edge of the lawn of the Maybank residence. The last thing he hears is the raw, blood curdling yell of his father, ‘Run and pray I don’t find ya, boy!’, the blood rushing in his ears and the soft beating of his combat boots against the dead grass, a baffling contrast to the absolute war in his mind.

His bruised legs carry him all the way across the island, the only thing in his mind is her, and it’s the only thing keeping him on his feet, head spinning, as he continually tells himself, ‘Just a little longer, J’, ‘A little longer than you can take a break.’ He doesn’t let himself stop until he gets there, lungs gasping for a breath of fresh air as the wind rushes past his ears, legs aching and stinging but he fights it until the image he’d been imagining comes into view through the weeds of the marsh. The lighthouse.

He’d found her on the rocky island, as expected slumped against the rocky wall of the structure, red and white painted chipped to hell. She was wearing an oversized black tank top, assumably his, the usual pair of denim shorts, and some beat up sneakers, hair falling in front of her eyes, cigarette already burning between her lips.

It’s late, the moonlight bathes her body, forearms resting on her knees, friendship bracelets dangling from her wrists and brushing against the grazed skin of her legs. He wordlessly slumps down next to her, groaning softly as his beaten body hits the rocky floor, a streak of white hot pain passing through his chest.

She obviously senses his presence, it’s completely un-ignorable. She makes brief eye contact with him in the pale light, a warm glow casted over her face from the flame at the end of the cigarette, highlighting the tear marks down her freckled cheeks, now dried and assumably sticky in the soft wind of the late night.

She doesn’t say anything, doesn’t need to, and neither does he.

That’s one thing that was so special about them, even before they’d gotten together and were just best friends with insane sexual tension, they could always read the other’s mind without sharing any words, could read each other fluently with just looks and body language.

The toe of her beat up sneaker digs into the rocks scattering the floor, and he watches her from the corner of him eye, chest still heaving, her head falls back against the concrete wall of the lighthouse, exhaling into the cold night as she passes off the burning stick to him. He notices how her fingernails are painted shimmery purple, or were, now they’re all chipped and her fingernails are bitten.

He accepts the cigarette, the familiar bitter tobacco and smoke slip past his chapped lips, gash on the lower corner re opening as he inhales. He couldn’t care less in this moment as they both sit wordlessly in the moonlight. She could practically feel the tension in his shoulders and the inevitable tightness in his chest, maybe this cigarette wasn’t the best thing for him right now, but everyone’s got their way of dealing, so she keeps her mouth shut for once.

He glances at her through his peripheral, pulling his legs up into a similar position to her, arms aching as he rests his forearms against his bloody knees. His hooded eyes frail over her tear stained cheeks. She’s tough. Tougher than anybody he’d ever met. He knew not to push her to talk. She’d talk when she was ready, and he wasn’t exactly eager to tell her about what went on tonight, either.

Her softer fingers brush his calloused ones when he passes it back, taking a drag and holding it in her lungs, letting it burn, because in this moment she wants to hurt, the pain is almost a comfort.

She exhales, smoke clouding his image of her for a second as she passes it back off to him, the orange glow lighting him up for once as her lips part to speak.

It’s raspy, like she’d been screaming, or crying, or both. He assumes both because he knows how it is in her house, much like she knows how it is in his. The precise reason why she doesn’t question the cuts on his cheekbones, or the grazes on his knees and elbows, and knows that there’s bound to be a ton more all over his body, concealed by his threadbare shirt and cargo shorts, curtesy of his deadbeat father.

“Got thrown out.”

Her voice pierces the bitterly cold wind that blows, blowing his sweaty, blonde tresses every which way, he lifts a hand to cover the end of the cigarette, blocking it from the strong gusts, the silver of his rings glinting in the orange glow.

He nods once, taking a hit as he takes in the information, he’s not all that suprised though, it was only a matter of time, he knows they’d been waiting for anything to happen to get rid of her for good.

“Same here.”

He says with a soft chuckle, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes and she doesn’t wonder why. He doesn’t want her to know the extent of it though, he doesn’t want her to know how bad it gets. Doesn’t want her to worry.

A small smile graces her lips, the skin stretching tight from the cold, licking over her lips once as she glances at him. She doesn’t even know why, she’s got absolutely nothing to smile about, sixteen, homeless, not even a dollar to her name, but just a glance at him smiling lifts a weight off of her, like maybe things weren’t going to be so bad.

She takes the cigarette back from him, mock forcefully, a ghost of a smirk still lingering as she takes another drag, shorter this time, sucking and blowing before speaking again, forearms adjusting on her grazed knees with a silent hiss, teeth gritted.

“What for?”

He lets out a bitter scoff, staring at his shoes so he doesn’t have to meet her eyes. The moonlight is making her look a fallen angel, all soft and pretty but still a little rough around the edges, just like him. He shrugs like he doesn’t know, pretending like he doesn’t know she can read him like a book.

“Same old bullshit.” He mumbles around the cig, taking a second drag since she’d passed it back, like he was trying to drown out the memory. She scoffs, mirroring his own reaction. Two halves of a whole. She can’t stop her eyes from wandering to his side profile, illuminated by the soft amber glow of the flame, highlighting the slope of his angular nose, the chisel of his cheekbones, already blooming with black and purple splotches, but he’s beautiful to her nonetheless.

She forces her eyes away and nods. “Same.” Picking at the chipped polish along her nails as she glares out at the horizon, the waves lapping ever so quietly at the rocky shore, the light from the lookout flickering dully above their heads.

He huffs softly, shaking his head, passing back the cigarette with trembling fingers.

Of course that was the reason, on her end anyway, and without her explicitly stating it he knows what her ‘same old bullshit’ is. He had pretty much known from the start that her parents wouldn’t be supportive of their relationship. He was a troublemaker, a bad kid, the kind of boy parents warned their daughters about.

He looks up at her, fiddling with his fingers between the gap in his bent knees, blonde hair flopping over his sweat slicked forehead, tickling at the gash above his eyebrow. He studies her profile as the glow of the cigarette lights her up. Even with her hair messy and her eyes red rimmed and her eyeliner smeared down her cheeks, she’s still the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

A comfortable silence falls over the two of them, the gravity of the situation hitting them both at different speeds. Two homeless, empty pocketed sixteen year olds, only their love for each other keeping them above water. Dodging whirlpools and massive swells with just each other to stay afloat. She digs the toe of her sneaker into scatter of rocks again, the soft clink of them the only thing heard other than the soft lapping of waves and their breathing, which had now synced.

He keeps his eyes on her, studying her and taking in every single detail in the moonlight. He can see every single freckle on her skin, every single eyelash. She’s perfect. Gorgeous. An angel amongst a sea of demons. He leans in closer, gently knocking his knee against hers.

“We’re gonna be okay, yeah?”

He mutters under his breath, so close she can feel the warmth radiating off of him.

She turns her head, hair falling infront of her black rimmed eyes, framing her blood rushed cheeks in the moonlight, nursing the fading cigarette between her fingers. She nods once, it’s small but it’s there, and it’s all the reassurance that he needs that they’re gonna be okay.

She leans a little more into his touch so they stay close, shoulders occasionally brushing and knees pressed together.

“Yeah.” She breathes out, a small smile making its way onto her lips.

He’s tempted to reach for her hand, to tangle his fingers in hers, to hold her as tight as possible for as long as possible, because she’s all he has left, and he’s afraid if he doesn’t hold her close, she’ll disappear like every other ounce of hope in his life.

But he doesn’t know if she’s okay with being touched right now. He knows she can be sensitive sometimes when she’s like this, closed off and thinking. So he keeps his hands to himself, not wanting to overstep. Instead, he just lets himself lean into her a little more, head tilted a little to the side to give her more than enough space if she wants to lean her head against his shoulder like she does sometimes. He’s making it clear that if she needs him, he’s here. Always.

Then, almost as if reading his mind, her hands finds his, soft skin brushing callouses along his pinkie finger, it’s hesitant but it’s not accidental as their fingers intertwine. She doesn’t look at him but he doesn’t need her to to know what she’s thinking. She stubs out the cigarette with her other hand, the ash hissing softly against the concrete wall behind her head before she flicks the butt into the rocks. Waves lap against the shore, sea foam clotting and sticking and forming pretty consolations, her thumb brushes over his bruised knuckles thoughtfully, but it’s natural and unpracticed.

He lets out a shaky exhale as her delicate fingers wrap around his. They’re smaller than his, more nimble, and yet they’re strong. Stronger than normal, like she’s solidifying every word she’s conveying through his simple touch. That this is real. Once that contact is made he feels like he can breathe again. Her skin feels electric against, sending sparks up his arm and signals to his brain that stop him feeling the dull, everlasting ache all over his body, that thrums low but never truly leaves for good. But this feels right. It feels good.

The winds starting to pick up a little now, she has no idea what time it is and neither does he, but it’s a distant worry. She’s got a little niggling at the back of her brain that there’s a storm incoming, but she’s not sure when or where’d she’d heard it, every memory from the past few days blending into one, where she can’t pinpoint any individual words or emotions.

She lets her eyelids flutter closed, head laying down softly onto JJ’s shoulder, incase there was a nasty bruise underneath the worn cotton, he wouldn’t have told her even if there was. She breathes steadily, breathing in the lingering scent of him on the warm skin of his neck: sea water, sweat and a hint of the old spice cologne he’d stolen from his dad in ninth grade, and then kept stealing bottles whenever it’d run out.

She squeezed his hand in hers: once, twice, three times. A silent ‘I love you’. Neither of them had ever been any good with words, but they didn’t need to be.

She doesn’t know whats going to happen and she doesn’t know what they’re going to do after tonight, when they wake up tomorrow morning in the abandoned lighthouse with less than a dollar to their shared name. But she doesn’t let the thought cloud her memory too long, because with JJ by her side it’s hard to worry about things that aren’t facing you yet, it’s easy to just live in the moment with him.

With her head leaning against his shoulder, breath from her nose tickling his skin, he takes the time to study her for the billionth time that night. Taking in the slope of her nose, her jawline, her eyelashes. His heart does all sorts of crazy things in his chest, things he’d never felt before her. But it’s not from fear, or uncertainty, or anything of the sort. Instead, it’s from love. From adoration. From everything he feels for her.

“I love you.”

He whispers, just loud enough for her to hear him over the wind.

Her eyelashes flutter open, kissing at her eyebrows, fingers still interlocked with his as she zones in on him, he notices the way her eyes are glazed over with tears.

It had always been harder for her to say those three words, even though she’d come from a more conventional family than JJ, his full of physical abuse, hers was full of mental and verbal abuse, the pushing down of her feelings to avoid manipulation is second nature to her. Usually.

But now with JJ, she lets out a soft exhale through her nose, pressing it against the side of his neck, breathing him in as she whispers, hot breath ticking the sensitive skin.

“I love you too.”

He can feel his cheeks heat up when her hot breath brushes against his skin. He doesn’t know why it makes him so flustered, because by this point he should be used to her touch, her quiet little declarations of love. He’s spent countless nights wrapped around her, his arms holding her to his chest like she’s his lifeline.

And yet, when she whispers that she loves him, his heart races in his chest. His fingers squeeze around hers so tight it’s bound to bruise. He doesn’t need to say anything back and she doesn’t expect it, he conveys everything he wants to say through the way his breath hitches and his heartbeat quickens under her ear.

Her eyes flick up to his profile after a minute or so, eyes roaming all over his features from this new angle, pressing her cheek against his shoulder, watching him fiddle with his rings on his fingers, twisting at them, pulling them off and putting them on again. She breaks through his quiet thoughts with a soft question, that he misses because it’s caught in the whisper of the wind.

“Hm?” He mumbles, hand reaching down to find hers again, squeezing it reassuringly as he looks down, hooded eyes completely captivated by her.

“Does it hurt?” She repeats softly, no irritation in her tone like normal when she has to repeat herself to him. He’s confused for a second, eyebrows furrowing until he realises she’s talking about the series of bruises across his cheekbone, her wide eyes lingering on the skin. It’s only then he remembers he was even hurt in the first place, and the low thrum of pain comes back all over his body, wound above his eyebrow stinging when a gust of wind blows.

She squeezes his hand again softly, not forcing him to speak if he doesn’t want to, being patient with him. His gaze stays on her, and he’s coming up with a lie, telling her he’s fine and not to worry about him. But the words get caught in his throat at the worry in her soft gaze. He doesn’t want to lie, not to her.

“Like hell.”

He mutters, bringing his free hand up to his eyeline, the one that’s not gripping hers. He stares down at his bruised knuckles, some starting to scab, others not, starting to turn an ugly shade or reddish purple.

“Yeah?” She replies softly, she seems to have thawed off a little, anger not so red hot, scalding in her fingertips. Not so angry at the world. Her free hand comes up to softly brush against the blossom of purple along his cheekbone, and his jaw ticks under her touch, refraining from flinching away from her. She notices, though, and tears spring to the corners of her eyes, tear ducts working overtime tonight, it seemed.

He lets out a shaky exhale, it’s covered by the wind but she doesn’t miss the quiver of his lips. Her gentle touch feels electric against his skin. He doesn’t want to flinch, but it hurts. It hurts.

Her touch is soft and delicate, tracing over the bruise with a feather light touch. His skin is heated and tender, and any contact makes the thrumming under his skin stronger. But at the same time, it feels good, because she’s touching him. Loving him.

His eyes dart up to meet hers, searching them for any sign of fear. Or disgust.

There’s nothing even close reflected in her eyes. They’re soft, softer than he’s ever seen them. That hard exterior she puts up is broken through as she looks at him, beaten and bruised. It makes her heart physically ache in her chest.

“You wanna talk about it?”

She whispers softly, he hears her through the soft gust that comes in, blowing his hair out of his face a little, exposing the gash across his temple. He’s so tuned into her right now, overanalysing every movement she makes, every word, every breath.

He lets out a soft scoff, shaking his head. The last thing he wants to talk about is his piece-of-shit dad. Talking about the events of tonight wouldn’t change a single thing, and it’s just gonna make her worry.

“There’s nothin’ to talk about.”

He mutters under his breath, avoiding her gaze. He knows she’s trying to be sweet, and care for him but he doesn’t want her to pity him. He doesn’t want her to think he’s weak.

She notices his walls coming back up, him pulling away from her a little, if not physically definitely internally. She doesn’t force anything, just nods softly, blinking back the tears in her eyes and slips her hand from his cheek, slumping back against the concrete wall with a soft sigh, knees and shoulders brushing.

The last thing she wants to do it push, make him cramp up and close himself off like he did sometimes.

The part of him that wants to lean back into her touch, to be held and loved and cared for after being beat to a pulp wars with the part of him that doesn’t want her pity.

He settles for somewhere in the middle, their thighs pressing together and shoulders brushing. He’s still avoiding her eyes, staring down at his bruised knuckles, biting back the tears that lodge his throat.

Her gaze stays on him for a long time, even if he’s refusing to reciprocate her longing gaze. She doesn’t mind, she just quietly watches, admires.

He feels her gaze on him and he can’t fight it anymore, he never could. His eyes flick to hers, fiddling with the rings on his thick fingers, forearms rested on his knees.

She’s giving him this look that makes him want to melt, like she sees right through him, for everything he is and everything he will be and the only emotion in her moonlit eyes is love.

“Do you..” She trails off, the wind picking up a little around them, the waves splatter against the rocks, sea foam clinging to the pebbles only a few meters away and JJ’s eyes flick from the shore, and then to her. He knows what she’s trying to ask, or along the lines of her question.

His heart’s doing that fluttering thing again, like a caged bird. He doesn’t need to be told what she’s asking, because he can read it in her eyes. He knows she’s not asking out of pity, or even out of lust. Just a pure, unconditional adoration. A need to hold the boy she loves. A need to be as close to him as possible. He knows there’s no point in denying her, and he doesn’t want to, anyway.

He nods shakily, letting his eyes flutter shut, pleading with him himself internally to not break, not yet.

“What do you need?”

She whispers softly, fingers itching to touch him, to comfort him, but she wants to touch him however he wants to be, and she don’t want to push anything.

He wants her. Needs her. He wants to run his fingers through her hair, feel her heart beating against his, breathe in the scent of her skin. And it’s not out of lustful desire, it’s out of a deep-down desperate need to feel safe. To feel wanted. He shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut as he lets out a shaky breath. His eyes flick open, the saddest look she’d ever seen gracing his features, and she can tell he’s about to break.

“C’mere.”

He mutters under his breath, voice scratchy and quiet as he reaches his arms out for her, wincing softly at the stretch of the skin of his chest, littered with purple and blues.

She doesn’t wait to crawl into his lap, slowly, listening intently to every little gasp he makes to make sure she’s not putting any pressure on his major bruises, if they weren’t outside on a rocky beach, slumped against a wall, she’d be the one holding him, but sometimes sacrifices have to be made, and right now JJ needs her, no matter how.

Her chest is pressed against his, strong arms wrapped around her back and keeping her as close as possible to him. He’s holding her tighter than he should, afraid she might slip away if he loosens his grip.

His hands find her hips, snaking under the loose material of the tank top and digging affectionally into the warm skin there. The feeling of her finally being against him is driving him crazy, but in a good way, caged between the wall and her.

He lets out a shuddering breath, burying his face in the crook of her neck, his nose nuzzling at her soft skin.

“You’re okay.” She whispers, resting one hand at the back of his head, fingers carding through the hair at the nape of his neck gently, pressing her lips to his crown. She feels his shoulders begin to shake and the meltdown that he’d been holding back from all night crashing down and overtaking him now.

You know all you can do is be present, and reassure him. “Everything’s gonna be okay..”

He feels the dam inside of him break, like the floodgates had finally opened, and before he knows what he’s doing, hot tears are springing to his eyes.

She’s saying all the right things. She’s touching him like no one’s touched him. And it’s too much. Too much to handle. He buries himself against her chest, his arms wrapping around her torso to hold her close. He lets out another shuddering breath, a soft crying shortly following, and it’s guttural and soul shattering as he shakes against her.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you. ‘M not goin’ anywhere.” She mumbles into his sweaty hair, blonde tresses tickling at her chin, leaving kisses anywhere she can reach, hands carding through his hair, offering the maximum amount of comfort she can in his arms.

“You’re okay, baby.”

Her calling him ‘baby’ isn’t something he realised has such an effect on him until now, and the way her voice is so soft, so sweet and caring, has him melting against her.

Her touch and her words are like a balm on his frayed nerves, extinguishing the fire burning under his skin.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.”

He chokes out, like a mantra, into the warm crook of her neck, over and over again, soaking the skin with his tears.

“I love you more.”

She whispers against his head, leaning sitting up a little straighter against him for a sec, but he’s pulling her down just as quick, pressing a soft kiss to her collarbone as he cries.

“Hey, listen for a sec.” She mumbles, and waits for him to nod against her before continuing, fingernails scraping deliciously against his scalp as she speaks, her words attempting to calm him down from his spiral.

“‘Member what we said? After we figure all this shit out.. gonna get a house t’gether and get married, yeah? You listenin’?”

He nods shakily as she holds him, her hands brushing his sweaty hair at his temples, her kisses along his forehead keeping him grounded to reality. He swallows hard at her words about the future, his heart seizing up in his chest. But he nods again, desperately needing to hear more. He needs to hear about their future together, because it’s the only thing keeping him together right now, when he feels like nothing’s going right, his only way out is her.

“Yeah-yeah, ‘m listenin’.” He murmurs against her hot skin, his hands gripping her hips a little tighter, making sure she was really still there, and this wasn’t some hallucination.

“Good, keep breathin’. And y’know what else? Gonna have so many babies together, yeah? All of our little mini us’s runnin’ ‘round. We’re gonna be so happy, J. Soon as we get outta this mess.”

The very thought of having kids with her has him choking up again.

He can picture it all so clearly, the cozy fish shack by the marsh, a whole football team of kiddos, the little girls beautiful like their mama, getting dressed up all pretty, the rowdy boys the spitting image of JJ, with unruly blonde hair as big blue eyes, tackling and wrestling with each other on the grass outside whilst he tries to teach them to fish.

He can’t help but grip her tighter at the imagery flashing through his clouded mind, ringed fingers digging into her hips.

“Lotsa babies. Lotsa babies. Our babies. Promise?”

She nods with a soft smile, eyes reflecting the same expression as his when his eyes meet hers, glazed over and filled with an emotion unlabelled. Her thumbs swipe at his under eyes, wiping away the hot tears, careful to avoid any gashes or bruises.

“Promise. But none o’ that’s gonna happen if you don’t make it through tonight, baby. You gotta breathe for me.”

Of course she’s exaggerating, and it’s in a hope to bring a little light to the emotional rollercoaster he’s going through right now, and she’s on the same ride internally, but she needs to be strong, for him.

He lets out a shaky exhale, his chest heaving against hers as he forces his body to breathe.

In, and out, In, and out, In, and out-

He wants that life. With her. A life with her in a homey beach shack, a physical place he can call home, instead of the girl he’s holding in his arms.

In, and out, In, and out, In, and out.

But the only way he’s going to get that life is by surviving, together and by getting through tonight, together.

He slowly nods, squeezing her hips again.

“M breathin’.. ‘M breathin’..”

She nods tearfully, sniffling and swiping at her own eyes before he can see them. “Good.. that’s good..” She mumbles in praise, hands still holding his face and stroking at his cheeks with her thumbs gently. “Can you look at me a sec?” She’s careful to keep her touch featherlight over any bruises.

He nods shakily, slowly lifting his tired eyes to look at her, the day weighing heavy on his shoulders and now he’d really let everything out, he was exhausted. His cheeks are still tear stained and his chest heaving. He slowly brings a hand up, cupping the side of her face so he can run his thumb along her tear stained jaw.

“Lookin’.” He mumbles, breath hitching.

“You breathin’ properly now?” She mumbles, jaw moving under his calloused palm as she eyes him sweetly, eyes reflecting all the love he feels for her in this moment.

He lets out a shaky exhale, his eyes slowly raking over her face, taking in all her features like he’d never seen them before, and he’s lost count of how many times he’s got lost in her tonight.

She’s beautiful, he thinks to himself. Stunning in an effortless way, always has been. Like she woke up this morning and was effortlessly gorgeous.

His hand is still on her face, his thumb brushing against her skin.

“Yeah.. yeah baby, ‘m breathin’ normal. You’re makin’ it all messed up ‘gain, though.”

He mumbles, breathing a little heavily out of his nose and it tickles at her skin, a soft smile makes its way onto her face at the look in his eyes, completely enamoured by her.

She lets a breath of laughter slip from her nose, it’s soft and sweet and his eyes visibly soften at the sound, ears perking up.

“You’re so handsome, J.” She mumbles, thumb never stopping it’s comforting ministrations against the damp skin of his cheek.

Her touch on his skin makes him shiver, his mind and body always being so receptive to her. He wants to hide his face when he calls her handsome. He doesn’t think he’s handsome. Hot, sure, he’s been called that many a time. Pretty, meh, makes his heart flutter a little when you mumble it against his ear in bed, but he’d never admit it. But handsome? He’s not handsome.

He swallows hard, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he averts his gaze.

“Don’t. ‘M not handsome..” He mutters under his breath.

Her heart breaks a little at his immediate denial of the compliment.

“You are, J.” She mumbles, hand coming under his jaw to lift his gaze back to hers.

“You are, JJ.” She reassures him again, making sure he really knows it, believes it.

“‘n our babies are gonna be too.”

His heart is doing the fluttering thing again, his stomach flip flopping inside of him as he meets her gaze.

Babies, plural.

Oh, Jesus.

The thought of having little babies running around looking like the perfect mix of the both of you has him reeling. He’s always had a hard time picturing his future, but mostly the father part, after everything he’s been through he could never see it for himself. But with her, the image never seemed so impossible.

He lets out a shaky breath, a tear slipping down his rosy cheek, fingers squeezing at her hip again.

“You think so?”

“I know so.” She smiles, thumb stroking over a larger bruise at his temple.

“‘N I know things are hard right now, but we’re gonna get through this rough patch together, yeah? We can sleep here, at the lighthouse, we’ll get jobs, then eventually buy a house, get married..” She speaks softly, the wind picking up a little and making her cheeks cold and frost bitten. They’re sixteen and homeless, but all they need is each other.

That night they hold each other closer than ever before, knocking out on the old mattress up in the look out tower, limbs tangled together and content just for the night. JJ had calmed down now, stripped down to just his underwear, her too, pressed up against his good side in bed, head rested against his shoulder as she sleeps soundly, for the first time in what feels like forever.

JJ eventually manages to fall asleep, too, her previous words on his mind all through his slumber, dreaming of Maybank family fishing days, and the beautiful house that he would raise his babies in, the love of his life by his side, dreaming of a future where he wasn’t ashamed of his last name, and everyone he loved dearly shared it with him.

[stuffeddeer]

Idk if your like still taking asks since your last one was 2 whole weeks ago but i really just wanted to talk about 15!Dazai cause i miss my pookie and i reread your first kiss hc’s and ughhh being Dazai’s first ever crush, hes so smitten with you and doesn’t even understand why, maybe also forces Chuuya to be his unwilling wingman because he deadass uses cringey one liners on you and chuuya is sick and tired of it.

15!Dazai deserves to be a giddy infatuated teenager and kicking his legs like a schoolgirl when you give him your attention ��

Smitten 15!Dazai needing a wingman | Bungo Stray Dogs | Dazai x reader

nearly 8 months later i am here to complete this request!!! hope this is what you wanted (and was maybe worth the wait lol)

Chuuya doesn't really get the whole "Demon Prodigy" thing. Oh, Dazai is just soo smart and soo scary - what a joke. Chuuya has seen him spend ten minutes trying to figure out how to open a cereal box. Sure, the ginger didn't know either, but he figured it out quickly once the brunet gave up.

On the battlefield, Dazai can be quick-witted and ruthless, a foe worthy of his title. Yet right now, Chuuya watches with his arms crossed as the man beside him stumbles over his words while trying to talk to you about the weather of all topics.

It's sickening, almost - seeing the "genius" Dazai so blatantly ignore every signal you're sending. It's true, of course, that the brunet teen is exceptionally off-putting and non-socialized. The bandaged kid with unruly black hair and one emotionless eye (the other bandaged up and hidden away) is the type of weird befitting a title such as Demon Prodigy. While he is a mere 15 year old, his presence rouses unease wherever he goes.

Or so Chuuya was told. With him, the 15 year old is just that: a 15 year old. Dazai is bright but childish, boisterous and witty, ready to spar verbally until Chuuya has to walk away to calm himself down. The Dazai that Chuuya had come to know during their relatively recent partnership would never falter like this around someone his age - someone of equal standing. He isn't one to falter with those of higher standing, either.

Lackeys fear him, new recruits find him off putting and so on. But there are a few in the mafia - Chuuya and yourself - that are privy to see what he can really be like. Or, Chuuya, more exclusively. You... get an interesting version of him, to say the least.

“So that’s why it’s actually bad that it’s sunny out,” Dazai finishes, cheeks dusted an embarrassed red and hands wringing together. Is that… sweat? Dripping down his forehead? The man is always annoyingly cold, usually shoving a freezing hand onto Chuuya’s neck just to laugh while watching him recoil.

Jeez. Chuuya already knows how smitten Dazai is for you, but this is a new low he wasn’t expecting.

You politely smile, trying to act like his rambling made any lick of sense. “Well, I suppose I like flowers enough to concede. A little rain is good now and again.”

“We both like flowers!” Dazai points out. You idiot; everyone does.

Chuuya takes one hand out of his pockets to readjust his hat. “Dazai’s been tryin’ to get me to go to some flower garden on the other side of Yokohama,” he decides to lie. As if it wasn’t clear before, you pretending Dazai’s argument held any merit only proves that you like him back. Helping you is all he’s trying to do, because that stupid mackerel will never make a move on his own. “But I keep tellin’ him I’m not interested. Would be nice if you took my place.”

Eyes widening ever so slightly, you turn to Dazai with a timid expression. “I didn’t know we had one.”

“Wait, I— “

“It’s free admittance. Paid for by the government to clean up our city or somethin’ - Kouyou told us about it,” which is true, minus the part where Kouyou told Dazai as well.

The excited smile you give causes Dazai’s usually-controlled heart to leap into his throat. “That’s super cool! I totally wanna go, if you’re still up for it, Dazai.”

He doesn’t reply. The stupid, idiotic strategist that supposedly has been bolstering the Port Mafia’s defenses is left defenseless by a pretty smile. Seriously? This is what Chuuya has to put up with? He should just smack Dazai and take it all back. He’s never helping this lost cause again.

With one gloved hand, Chuuya slams it against Dazai’s head to force it into a nod. The slam is hard enough for Dazai to snap out of his stupor, but soft enough that you don’t notice how rough the ginger is being. “Say yes, idiot.”

And Dazai quickly follows through. He swats Chuuya’s hand away with an “I was gonna do that,” before clearing his throat. Looking back at you clogs it up once again and he gives an awkward smile back and a nod of his own this time. “Y-yep! I wanna go. With you. Well! Not like with with you, but like, with you. So, not like a date, just— I wanna go and you should come.”

Chuuya did his part. Can he leave yet? God, remind him to never help Dazai ever again. This was embarrassing for Chuuya and the short man is just a bystander. Though, the flush on Dazai’s face and the excited grin on yours helps to keep Chuuya’s annoyance at bay. At the very least, now the two of you can finally move on from this awkward crush stage and he won’t have to see Dazai metaphorically drown himself in every conversation with you.

And when the two of them got back a week later out of breath from running, Dazai’s hands covered in dirt and you holding an uprooted bouquet of fresh flowers, Chuuya realizes that maybe he chose the wrong location.

[yuikomorii]

do we think that yui fell first and it was ayato that fell harder or do we think that it was ayato that fell first and yui that fell harder? 🤔 this has been on my mind for years and i've never came to a definite answer

// OKAY, LET’S GET THIS STARTED—

Yui definitely fell for Ayato first in HDB. From the start, she kept calling him cute and imagining them as friends. After Ayato gave her her first REAL kiss, she began picturing them as lovers, and he kept giving her more of that "cuteness aggression" that only deepened her feelings. Ayato, on the other hand, seemed to start falling for her after waking up from a nightmare, when Yui willingly offered him her blood and confessed that she actually enjoyed it. By the end of HDB, Ayato definitely loves Yui, but it’s clear she fell harder for him, especially given the things she does in the After Story.

Anyway, as for MB, we’re not sure who exactly fell for the other first. All we know, based on his route description, is that they both had feelings for each other even before the Mukamis arrived.

“With the appearance of the Mukami brothers targeting the heroine Yui, the bond between the two who have feelings for each other becomes even more intense. Ayato, who desires her heart, not just as prey, hides his painful feelings behind his rough words and actions.”

I think it was pretty clear that Yui fell for Ayato the fastest, since in the second chapter, after taking the truth, she confessed to him. Ayato also seemed happy when Yui asked for his kisses and bites there, so it’s pretty obvious he had feelings for her too. I also remember a scene from one of the earlier chapters where a classmate gave Yui two cinema tickets, and she wanted Ayato to go with her. Even though Ayato claimed to dislike movies, he was still willing to go with her. It’s clear he liked Yui; if he didn’t, he wouldn’t have done something he wasn’t interested in.

The problem with his MB route lies in how Yui constantly objectified him and pushed him to return her feelings, without ever considering his struggles. I also understand that Ayato’s past gave him trust issues, leading him to the belief that "I won’t make anyone special again because they won’t reciprocate my feelings." His intense bloodlust, likely worsened by the fig curse, pushed him to the edge too. But honestly, it was sooo tiring to watch. It felt like it was the same scenario over and over again, and I can't help but think that everything could have been resolved if they just COMMUNICATED earlier. Yet, I suppose the writer wasn’t feeling inspired when they wrote that route. 🤷🏼‍♀️

As for the After Story, sorry not sorry, but it’s undeniably the best-written one in the entire franchise. The way Ayato went to university for Yui, despite the deep trauma studying caused him, was incredibly moving. He didn’t pressure her to get a job; instead, he wanted to surprise her by building a good future for both of them, which I find really admirable. It’s also heartwarming how Yui continuously praised Ayato and helped him with his studies. In the Vampire Ending, she waited years for him to wake up from the coma, and all those years he kept searching for her in his dreams, therefore in the end, they both fell deeply in love with each other.

On top of that, there’s this official short story, where Ayato mentions not remembering when he started liking Takoyaki but then Yui rizzes him up with this confession:

Translated by Koiiro

In conclusion: They’re both down bad for each other, lol.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

I think William and Kate are real people and real people go through stuff and not everything is sunshine and roses, so I do agree that going through a big thing like cancer may have changed their relationship in ways we won’t even know. However, there can a be a hundred different reasons for small interactions and we can’t know for sure what they’re feeling in that moment.

For example, my friend who is casual with her interest in the royals saw that video of William and the kids waiting fot Kate and just thought it was funny and cute and didn’t think much about it. But I guess for us, maybe we know better or maybe we’re just more prone to overanalyzing their actions? Idk.

Anyway, as I said there can be a hundred different reasons. William may have been aware of how her “hurrying Kate” was perceived the last time (during the Jordan wedding) and wanted to avoid something similar. However, I think he used to have more gentle ways of reminding Kate to hurry before, so there’s that. But maybe it’s possible Kate has told him she doesn’t like being hurried no matter how he does it and he’s simply following her wishes.

Also, this is Kate’s first time to talk to the public since Christmas 2023, so maybe William had that in mind and didn’t want to be seen hurrying Kate in any way because he understood the public would want to talk to Kate. Maybe he also knew a lot of people would want to talk to Kate about her diagnosis, and William isn’t really the type to open up to the public during walkabouts about big personal things like that. He keeps it light: anecdotes about the kids or their dogs, Aston Villa, dad jokes. He probably didn’t want to be cornered and ambushed about a question about Kate’s illness that would make him vulnerable. Or maybe Kate wanted space to talk to the public about by herself. I also did notice that he was constantly looking for her or trying to see where she was during the walkabout.

I also think we can’t always interpret the change as William being callous as if William is the only one wearing the pants in the relationship and everything relies on the change in his feelings. In my own personal opinion and imagination, I think Kate has become more vocal about her boundaries. And if something has changed in their dynamic, I think it’s Kate wanting more individuality in the relationship. But idk this is just a feeling. I know I’m doing a lot of projection and I can’t be sure about my interpretations.

Anyway, maybe it could even be something as mundane as William having stomachache and needing to go to the bathroom and that’s why he was in a hurry lol. As I’ve said, there could be a hundred different reasons.

To be honest, I'd completely forgotten about the Jordanian wedding.

I was thinking about this moment from one of the garden parties.

(This is one of my favorite photos of them. I love how happy Kate is. I love the firm hand William has on her, like he knows if he lets her go she'll wander away again. I love how ladylike her trailing hand is posed. I love the soft feminine pink of Kate's suit contrasted with the sharp black of William's suit. I love everyone in the background cheesing at them. I love how Mary Poppinseqsue it feels.)

[pinkskiessss]

LACY - chapter 5

Paige Bueckers x oc

Warnings: internalized homophobia, mature content

A/N: I feel like alot of the last few chapters have been about Layla really struggling with coming to terms with identity/sexuality. Which I wanted to write because I wanted to show the process of really coming to terms with being queer and how it isn’t just something you immediately accept in one night, based on my own experiences personally ofc. So with that being said, I hope someone else can find comfort in her character or relates. (Also forgot to write this in, but for anyone wondering, Layla has been involved “romantically” with guys in the past, but I think it’s just a realization now for her that it was like a cover up for who she actually is, because she’s feeling emotions she’s never felt towards a man, towards a woman if that makes sense. Basically she’s gay lol hope this helps! Which like same girl) Anywayssss sorry for the rant, enjoy loves!

—

When I woke up, the first thing I noticed was the folded note on my bedside table.

I hope you feel better. Text me when you get up.

I exhaled slowly, the events of last night still swirling in my mind. Her low voice, her subtle touches—it made my skin crawl, the way I feel when she touches me. Even if it’s only for a second. The way it made something stir inside me that I couldn’t ignore, but couldn’t accept either.

I grabbed my phone and texted her, my fingers shaking slightly.

Me: Hey, I just woke up. Thanks for taking care of me last night. I’m sorry for being such a mess.

Her reply came quickly, almost like she’d been waiting for me.

Paige: Don’t trip. You’re good. Seriously.

Paige: You feeling better?

Me: Yeah, a little. Thanks again.

There was a short pause before her next message came through.

Paige: Can we talk? In person, if you’re not busy?

I hesitated, biting my lip. I didn’t want to see her, not right now. I’d rather save myself the embarrassment. But I couldn’t avoid it forever.

Me: Sure. You can come over if you want. I’m heading to the gym soon to practice, though.

Paige: Volleyball grind? Big game coming up, right?

Me: Yeah, it’s the regional final this weekend. If we win, we’re in the Final Four.

Paige: No pressure or anything

Me: Tell me about it lol

Paige: Can I come practice with you for fun cause why not? I won’t distract you to much I swear.

I couldn’t help but smile at the thought of her trying to play volleyball.

Me: Ok sure, if you insistttt

When Paige arrived, she was dressed in basketball shorts and a black tee, her hair pulled into a messy bun. Somehow she always looks perfect like all the time. It’s crazy actually.

—

We set up the net, and Paige was already messing around with the volleyball like she had no idea what she was doing. I tossed her the ball.

“Alright, ready?” I asked.

She caught it but didn’t seem to know what to do next. “Uh, sure. Can’t be too hard.”

Her first attempt was… not great to say the least. The ball went flying across the gym, and she just stood there, looking at it like it had betrayed her.

“Okay, so let’s just act like you didn’t see that,” she said, laughing at herself.

I couldn’t help but laugh too, the tension easing just a little. “Maybe try not to hit it like you’re dunking a basketball.”

“Yo I didn’t sign up for this kind of slander, not to much on me,” she said with a grin. “But fine, I’ll try again.”

We kept going, and she got a little better—or at least, less terrible. But I couldn’t focus. My mind kept drifting back to last night, what I asked her in a drunken haze. How awkward it feels that I got drunk and slipped into a vulnerable state where I felt comfortable enough to ask her how she knew she was gay. Like come on Layla, why do you always have to make shit weird.

I tried to push it out of my mind, but when she stood beside me, her shoulder brushing mine as we took a break, I felt a knot tighten in my stomach. The kind of knot that made me want to run. To escape this feeling.

“Layla,” Paige said softly, breaking the silence. “You okay?”

I glanced at her, swallowing hard. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

She didn’t seem convinced. She took a step closer, her eyes searching mine. “You sure? You don’t have to pretend everything’s fine if it’s not, you know this.”

I shook my head, looking down at the ground. “I don’t know what to think anymore, Paige. I don’t even know why I asked you what I did. It just… felt like something I needed to say. I was really drunk and confused I guess. But now, I just feel… weird.”

Paige’s expression shifted, a flicker of something defensive in her eyes. “Weird how?”

I was silent, except for the sound of my breath, heavy and uneven. I could feel the weight of Paige’s words pressing down on me, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something inside me was breaking. I didn’t know how to fix it.

“I just don’t get it, Layla,” Paige said, her voice a little shaky but firm. “Why are choosing to continuously hurt yourself by denying the facts.”

“I’m not. I just—” I paused, struggling to find the right words. “I don’t want to be that person. I don’t want people to look at me like it’s all they see when I play. I don’t want to be judged. People already say enough disgusting stuff online about queer people. Imagine what they would say if they found out an athlete they looked up to secretly liked the same gender. It would hurt my career so much if people found out Paige, you don’t get it.”

Paige’s face tightened, her blue eyes flashing with anger. “What the hell, Layla? Are you seriously forgetting that I’m gay myself? I would get it. People speculate about my sexuality all the time, and yeah, it’s obvious. Everyone knows it. Sure, there’s a small percentage of people who hate on me for it, and I see it. But if I let that control my life, I’d be a pretty shitty person. People always have their opinions, and most of them are garbage, but you can’t let them define how you see yourself. You’re letting people on the internet make you think you’re wrong for feeling how you feel. It’s fucking ridiculous.”

I flinched at her words, the anger in her voice cutting deeper than I expected. I didn’t answer, my heart pounding in my chest. She was right. She knew exactly what it was like to feel out of place. But I couldn’t help the way I felt.

“I’m sorry,” Paige says quietly, her voice suddenly soft, regret seeping into her tone. “I shouldn’t have said that the way I did at all. I shouldn’t have gotten that mad, I just hate hearing you talk about yourself like that.”

My hands were shaking now, and I wiped at my eyes, feeling the tears I’d been holding back start to fall. I couldn’t stop them. I couldn’t stop any of it.

Paige saw me crying, and her expression softened instantly. She stepped forward, reaching out to gently grab my arms, pulling them away from my face. “Layla, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have let it get that far. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

I looked up at her, my chest tight. “It’s not you, I just don’t know what to do, Paige. I don’t know how to feel. I don’t know how to make this go away.”

Paige’s eyes softened as she held my arms. “You don’t have to make it go away, Layla. You don’t have to figure it out right now. But please, don’t hate yourself for it. You’re not disgusting, or weird. You’re… you’re perfect just the way you are.”

Her words hit me like a wave, and for the first time, I felt like I could breathe. Like maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t as lost as I thought.

“I really care for you,” Paige continued, her voice low and sincere. Hearing you talk about yourself like that—it hurts me. It hurts to see you think you’re not worth it. You are. You really are.”

My heart skipped a beat, and I felt a surge of warmth in my chest. I stepped closer to her, not sure what I was doing but knowing I needed to be near her. “I’m sorry, too,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like that.”

She smiled softly, her hand brushing against my cheek. “You don’t need to apologize. I just want you to know you’re not alone in this. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

I felt a pull in my chest, an undeniable connection that I couldn’t ignore. I leaned in slightly, my breath catching in my throat. I was close enough to feel the warmth of her skin, to see the way her blue eyes softened, the way her pink lips parted just slightly. My heart raced, the air thick with unspoken words, with everything we hadn’t said yet.

For a moment, everything seemed to stop. The world around us faded, leaving just the two of us in this fragile, suspended moment. I could hear the soft sound of her breathing, the way it matched mine, both of us caught in the tension that had been building between us.

I barely registered that I was moving closer until our noses were almost touching, the smallest breath between us. I could feel the heat of her body against mine, the way her cologne lingered in the air, intoxicating and all-consuming. I could feel the pull, stronger now, undeniable, and it was like something inside me snapped.

I couldn’t stop myself. I leaned in, closing the space between us, and my lips brushed against hers in the softest kiss. It was tentative at first, a question, a hesitation, but it felt right. Her lips were warm and inviting, soft as velvet, and I couldn’t help but press into her, deepening the kiss just slightly, my hands finding their way to her neck, pulling her closer.

Her lips moved against mine with a gentle pressure, and I responded instinctively, my body leaning into hers, craving more. There was no fear, no doubt. Just the rush of the moment, the way her touch made everything else fade away. It felt right.

But then, just as quickly as it started, I pulled away, breathless, my chest heaving. I looked at her, my heart pounding in my ears, and I saw the same intensity reflected in her eyes.

“Paige,” I whispered, my voice shaky. “I—”

She didn’t give me a chance to finish. Before I could say another word, she pulled me back to her, her lips crashing against mine with a hunger that took me by surprise. This time, there was no hesitation, no softness. Her hands were on my waist, pulling me even closer, and I could feel the urgency in her kiss, the way she needed me as much as I needed her.

I kissed her back with everything I had, my hands threading through her hair, pulling her even closer, if that was even possible. I could feel the heat between us, the way our bodies pressed together, desperate to feel more. It was a kiss that left no room for doubt, no space for anything but the raw, overwhelming undeniable connection between us.

—

Taglist:

@unadulteratedcyclepaper

[doodlegraveyard]

Pretty pretty please tell me you have pictures of the other Winx’s dorm bedroom like you did flora and I love your art by the way it’s so cute and detailed

Hi @spectrum-007 ! I’m glad you liked it, I have the doodled out plans for the other girls rooms but if I’m honest backgrounds and environment design is something I really don’t think is my forte. The flora room sketch was me forcing myself to practice lol. I’ll share the rest of them but I might redesign the dorm rooms a bit more (I really tried to base the floor plans on the original canon but I think I might change it for my own version)

Clean version of flora’s without her in front of it:

And the ‘base’ dorm I saved without flora’s stuff in it. One of the changes I made is I decided I wanted to make the Alfea dorms have standard furniture provided, like most dorms irl. This is a fun contrast from Cloud Tower, where rooms aren’t assigned and it’s a lot more freeform.

Here’s Bloom’s half of her and Flora’s room. I imagine they keep these suites the whole 3-4 years at Alfea so they get pretty lived in, but I did my best to keep Blooms life feel more……earth-y

i know getting rid of Musa’s piano bed is a sin but honestly who brings their own bedframe to a dorm situation. I really like her little mixing station at the desk there and idk how legible these doodles are to anyone else but there’s some little easter eggs and story things hidden around

Tec’s side of the room. I was a little less certain about what I had going on over here but in combination she and Musa have a lot of mood lighting lol

STELLA!!!! I don’t remember if I forgot that her room gets a little loft area or if I Decided to make it the same layout. I love it in here. I didn’t get to Aisha’s but I actually intend to have her move in here with Stella - I always thought that was a missed opportunity! They have princess stresses in common but are so different in almost every other way, and Stella particularly is the one who accidentally rubs up against Aisha wring when she’s new and insecure in the group - having them share a space would be so sweet…

((As you can see, Stella is the only one who brought her own bed frame. Because she Is That Extra))

I’m probably gonna redo these and custom floorpan their suite so I can understand the internal consistency.

[visionsofyouandme]

𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓈

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜: Something lurks in the woods, ravenous and feared. Joel finds solace in a cabin, and in the belly of the beast herself.

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 6.1k

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜/𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚜: DDDNE. Joel Miller x afab!Reader. Post Outbreak. No Ellie. Dark!Reader. Spooky vibes. No use of ‘y/n’. Reader has no physical descriptions but has she/her pronouns. Age gap. fear of monsters in the woods. Blood. +18 MNDI DubCon (Joel is “under the influence”). Somnophilia? Smut. Dry humping. Unprotected P in v sex. Swapping bodily fluids as a ritual (you’ll see👀).

𝙰/𝙽: Soooo idk how this even came in my brain but god when I started I couldn’t stop. I wrote this for my own self indulgence and decided to share it, cause I know there’s some twisted MFers just like me out there LOL. So, if you’re sick like me and love this shit, I hope you enjoy<3 Alright. Let’s get down to it.

Here on AO3!

“Be careful in ‘them woods. A monster hunts there, worse than Infected. Get somewhere safe before dark.”

Joel wanted to scoff, but still heeded the old man’s warning. Having just left the safety of the old man’s cabin and into the Appalachian wilderness, Joel made his way through dense trees and stepped over protruding roots. He didn’t know exactly where he was until the old man had produced a map, showing Joel that he was still going in the right direction of Wyoming. Being somewhere in Tennessee, he got instructions from the old man to stay near the road, and it would lead him to a small, desolate community that was abandoned some time after the outbreak. He told Joel to not stop until he got to that little community, and to find a house to stay in. Shut the doors, let minimal light out of the house, and stay quiet.

Joel had strayed from the road in fear of roaming raiders and Infected. He was losing light fast, and tried to find his way back to the road, but felt sufficiently lost. This didn’t completely worry him, as he still headed in the direction the old man had given him. He did want to find somewhere to lay for the night, and the man’s words lingered in the back of his mind as Joel threw a look over his shoulder every so often. 

He finally set his sights on a small cabin, and after watching, saw no signs of life. Jogging to the safety of the porch, he nudged the door open with his rifle raised. Doing a quick sweep, he saw no signs that anyone or anything had been in there. There was still furniture standing- a kitchen table with chairs, a couch and armchair, what used to be a media console was now bare and dusted. He lowered his gun and did a better sweep of the house- looking in the pantry, in hallway closets, opening the closet doors in the upper bedrooms. He found clothes, bedding, blankets thicker than he had seen in a minute. In the pantry, he found canned food and figured he would finally have something other than sardines for once. 

Whoever was here before left a hell of a treasure trove. 

He made himself at home as best he could- stoking a fire in the fireplace, laying out blankets and pillows on the worn-out couch, setting his rifle in arms’ reach. He found a pot and cleaned it out to the best of his ability, putting one of the cans in there to heat up food and actually have a somewhat hearty meal for once. 

He set the small bowl aside, wiping his face. The solitude was not foreign to him, and he really didn’t mind it these days. Being on the road all alone kind of forced you to be content with yourself. 

Shifting his eyes to the open window, he stood up and walked to it, looking out. He remembered what the man said, and closed the curtains, even though night had fallen hours ago.

He found a book and struggled to read it in the dim light, but felt something make the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

Outside had gone quiet. Too quiet. No birds, no crickets, no rustling of wind in the trees. Until, he heard the softest cry.

“Open the door! Please, god- open the door!”

Distinctly female, Joel jumped to his feet and grabbed his rifle. He shifted the curtains and couldn’t see anything but darkness, and the voice that seemed to be drawing near. He ripped the door open, rifle raised until he saw a shape appear from the treeline.

“Stop!” he called, and the figure came to a screeching halt, nearly doubling over. Definitely human. Not Infected.

“Sir, please- there’s-” she said, and swiveled her head around behind her, but Joel heard nothing. A million thoughts flew through his mind, and he gave a strangled huff and lowered the gun, nodding at her viciously to come inside. She shot out like a bullet, and as she drew nearer, he could see her features grow more clear. When she barreled inside, he shut the door tightly and looked out the window into the night.

“What was it? Infected? Raiders?” he said, and turned his head to the panting mess of a woman behind him, who cowered by the couch. She looked at him, eyes wide with fear, and shook her head minutely. 

“N-no. Not- I don’t know.” she said, her voice small, trembling. He huffed, and looked outside, and quickly shut the curtains even tighter. 

Shut the doors, let minimal light out of the house, and stay quiet.

“Are you hurt?” he whispered, and she shook her head again. They stood on opposite ends of the room, assessing one another. Joel’s eyes cast down her- ratty clothes, gaunt features, bags under her eyes. She looked young and old at the same time- hard to pinpoint when you look like you’ve been to hell and back. He’s sure he looked similar.

“Who are you?” he questioned, his voice still low. Deep, sallow eyes watched him, and she whispered her name like it was a breeze. He nodded, offering up his own. 

“Joel,” she repeated, nodding like she was confirming it to herself. He nodded, and finally set his rifle down, raising his eyebrows and sighed heavily, the years suddenly tumbling onto his shoulders.

“Want something to eat?”

She was reluctant at first to eat, but he coaxed her into at least a can of chicken noodle soup. Even then, she didn’t eat much, her eyes moving between his like a frightened animal. He wondered if she regretted coming to the cabin for safety. 

He wasn’t much of a talker. He took the armchair, letting her stay on the couch. He looked at the fire as she pushed around the soup in the can, and he then looked at her a bit more closely in the firelight. She had bloodstains on her sleeves, her shirt. It didn’t look new, and he wondered how long she had been wandering with blood coating her thin shirt and jacket. 

“You… ya sure you’re not hurt?” he questioned, and she set the can down, looking over at him. 

“It’s not mine.” she said, regarding the blood, and Joel nodded. He leaned back in the chair, sighing with a bit of sympathy in his chest. In a world like this, everyone has lost someone. He just hated that someone like her- so delicate and fragile- had to be wrapped up in it, too.

“Where are you going?” she questioned, and Joel looked towards the fire. Did he really want to implicate himself in this? He didn’t owe her anything. But, he felt bad, sitting in silence. He cleared his throat, and shrugged, deciding to keep things vague.

“West. Hear there’s some people survivin’ out there.” he said, and she nodded, wrapping her arms around herself. The air was chilly, even with the fire, like life was being sucked right out of it. Joel stood up and put another log on the fire, twisting things this way and that to bring it to life again. When he sat back down, he could see her gaze still on him. Unwavering, cautious.

“Where are you from?” she questioned. Curious thing she is, he thought. No use in hiding, though. 

“Well, born and raised in Texas. After the world went to hell… well. That’s where things get blurry.” he said, and shook his head like it would erase the memory of life at the QZ. She nodded, and he felt a little uneasy under her gaze. He refused to give in to her, though, and kept his gaze on the fire. 

“What about you? Where ya going?” he questioned, trying to shift the course of the conversation away from him. 

“Was supposed to be going north. Canada.” she said, and he nodded, sighing deeply. He didn’t know shit about the situation up there, but he knew it couldn’t be much better than here in the states. 

“You lost your people on the way?” he questioned, and glanced at her at that moment. Surprisingly, her gaze was locked on the fire, the flames castng eerie shadows on her features. His eyebrows furrowed, and he could see something move over her face. Regret, maybe? Fear?

Giving Joel a slight nod, his suspicions were confirmed, but also put him at ease. She was alone. Good. Meant that there wasn’t much for stragglers, or worry that someone was waiting to ambush him. He nodded in response, and looked her over again.

“I have a spare shirt, if you wanna get out of that.” he said, nodding to her attire. She looked at him, a bit of gratefulness in her eyes and nodded. The exchange was quick- she left to the bathroom and emerged with his (very faded) navy blue shirt and a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Settling back onto the couch, she looked at Joel and mumbled a thanks. He nodded, waving his hand dismissively. But, it felt nice to have someone to take care of again. After losing Tess, he felt pretty lost, the only hope driving him was that he may see his brother again. Or die trying to get to him. 

He heard her shift and saw her back turned to him as she lay on the couch. He sighed, his rifle next to his leg and he felt himself slowly succumbing to sleep, despite his best efforts to stay vigilant and keep watch.

When he awoke, it was dark.

Not just dark- but pitch black.

The fire had apparently gone out, and all Joel could see that offered light was the last dying embers of the fire. He began to sit up, his back groaning in protest, but he suddenly felt a heaviness on his chest. Not from anxiety, but like a light pressure trying to keep him down. He grunted, but felt a warm breeze fan his face, the scent sweet but tangy. 

“It’s okay, Joel,” a voice cooed softly. Warmth pressed against his face, and he turned to it out of pure instinct. A hand that was warm and soft like velvet brushed against his skin. Comforting. 

“Rest. It’s going to be just fine.” The voice was encouraging, soft and sweet and utterly enticing. His thoughts strayed to her, and wondered if it was she who was speaking to him now. Why was she so close? Why did she move from the couch? How was she making it so easy for him to… Fall… Back…. Asleep……..

When he awoke, he was covered in a blanket, the curtains drawn back, and the fire roaring steadily in front of him. He frowned, shifting in the armchair and looked around. His gun still sat at his side, and his eyes scanned the room for the girl. But, she wasn’t on the couch. In fact, it was her blanket that was draped over him. 

He called out her name, and sat up, rubbing his chest where he thought he could still feel warmth pressed there. Had he imagined all of that? Had it been a dream? It felt like one, but at the same time, could have been mistaken for an experience teetering on the edge of dream and reality. 

He grabbed his rifle, but heard a voice-

“Oh! You’re awake.” 

He turned to see her standing in the hallway, and she looked a bit better in the daytime. When she stepped out of the darkness of the hallway and to the living room, he could see she was definitely looking better- not as sallow, cheeks a bit more rosy, eyes a bit more relaxed. She still wore his shirt, and he nodded, wincing at the pain that shot through his neck. He reached up and rubbed it carefully, like he slept on it wrong. She frowned,

“Are you alright?” she questioned, and Joel nodded, and pushed the blanket off of him to stand but suddenly became lightheaded, the floor coming to meet him rather quickly. He heard her cry out his name as he fell. and felt her warm touch on his arm, pulling him onto his back. He blinked, looking up at the ceiling, and then her face that hovered over him. She was mumbling something, hands tracing over his chest like she was trying to find something wrong.

Warmth. Hands. Pressure.

That dream was starting to feel a little more real.

“Joel? Can you hear me?” she questioned worriedly, and he coughed to clear his throat that felt like it was closing up.

“Y-Yeah. Can you- help me up.” he said, his question turning to a soft demand, and she put her arm under his own and helped him to a sitting position. She broke away and handed him his canteen that he swiftly downed, the room finally stopped spinning.

Guess that canned food wasn’t as good as he thought.

He looked at her and could see worry etched across her features, and he smiled gently.

“S’alright. Must have had some bad food last night.” he said, and she nodded, though the concern didn’t leave her face. 

“Come on. Let’s get you to the couch.” she said, and helped him to his feet. He was thankful he didn’t have to walk far, and nearly collapsed onto the couch had it not been for her strong hold on him. He blinked, and looked at her, suddenly feeling exposed. Raw. Open.

He couldn’t afford to be sick with someone new in his sights. What if others showed up? What if she tried to rob him of his things and leave? He shouldn’t have ever fallen asleep. He should have stayed awake, and tried to have kept watch. Something. Anything.

“Here, I'll heat you up something.” she said quickly, and stood up to pick up the can of chicken noodle soup she had barely touched last night. Joel was too tired to care or worry if she had done anything to it, and she returned what seemed like hours later with the can and the spoon. She helped him sit up and he took it gingerly, beginning to shovel it into his mouth. She watched him warily, and tilted her chin down to study him more. 

“Whatever it is, you need to rest. You won’t survive out there without being able to stand.” she said quietly, and he nodded, hating he had to agree with her. He needed time to recover from whatever the hell it was that had a hold on him, whether he liked it or not.

Fuck, he thought. He gave the woman a passing glance. He didn’t know if he could trust her entirely, but he didn’t have a choice.

He was stuck with her whether he liked it or not.

He felt better over the course of the day. He was able to walk outside with her, and she pointed out a stream nearby where they collected water and boiled it to refill their canteens. Joel had eventually taken off his boots and laid up on the couch. He felt lazy, and was disgusted with himself. He had never taken a day off in the 20 years since the outbreak. Even if he got sick in the QZ he’d pop a pill or two and sleep it off, getting up the next day and going back to work.

This “break” felt forced. He hated it.

But her, on the other hand… he was somewhat grateful for someone to talk to for once. Seeing as he had nothing better to do, and couldn’t concentrate on reading, he focused on her. Asking her questions, keeping things light. She kept things vague, and he couldn’t blame her. When she questioned him, he did the same. They were guarded, watching each other, trying to see if the other was trustworthy. 

And by the way she diligently took care of him, even if he was a stranger to her, he was starting to believe she was just a fellow human desperate for human connection. 

She sat on the armchair that he had vacated early that morning as he sat up on the couch. With water and some food in his system, he felt better. She entertained him with a story about her former party- something about a friend formulating a new game to entertain children with as they traveled. When he heard that, his heart fell into his stomach. She had been around a decent group then, and a family at that- he was jealous. But also deeply, deeply sad for her. She talked about them fondly, and he could see a sad glint in her eyes. He felt a pull to reach out and comfort her. 

That distracted him for a moment. Why was he so… caring for her? He wasn’t a touchy-feely guy. Never one to encourage physical touch, or any kind of intimate moment. His days of softness were long gone, so this surprised him. 

“I hope they’re okay, wherever they are.” she said at the closing of her story, pulling at the frayed edge of the blanket that lay next to her on the armchair. He nodded, knowing the feeling all too well. Hoping that whatever kind of peaceful afterlife there was, that all of those people he loved and cherished were there.

Nightfall came, and Joel knelt next to the fire, shifting the sticks to make the fire burn a bit brighter. She had somehow found some firewood, probably by former inhabitants, and they were using that to heat up the cabin living room. 

“Here, i’ll take the chair-” Joel said gruffly, turning to stand and he saw her looking at him with a hard expression. She cocked an eyebrow, and he did the same.

“Joel,” she said sternly like a mother disciplining their child. “You need to actually rest, okay? I know that’s a tough notion to wrap your head around, but still.”

“We can alternate, then.” he said, trying to figure out a compromise. Another first for him- compromising was not in his blood. But, he wanted to appease both of them. “You can take the couch, and I’ll take the armchair. Tomorrow-”

“Joel, take the damn couch.” she said, her tone not unkind but softly demanding. Like the wind had been knocked out from underneath him, he sat down onto it with a grunt. He shook his head, and she smiled. In the dim firelight, her teeth looked oddly white and straight. This was probably the first genuine smile he had seen from her, and it was radiant. 

He sighed, trying to show his disdain for giving in, and she shook her head with that same smile, looking towards the fire. He looked to the window where the curtains had been drawn again, and he could hear the sounds of the night beyond them. He sighed, sliding his boots off and threw his body onto the couch. He pulled the blanket halfway over him, his hand over his stomach. He could barely get the words out to bid her goodnight as his eyes fell shut and he floated away from reality. 

He must have been dreaming. There couldn’t be any other explanation.

He felt the warm heaviness on him again. This time it felt like it was straddling his waist, the same warm hands on his chest. Arousal twisted in his stomach, and his hips shifted involuntarily, meeting something solid and warm.

He hadn’t had a sex dream in a long while, hell, probably years-

He opened his eyes, the ceiling dark but discernible in the dying firelight. The warm heaviness covered him, and his neck felt sore again. His hand reached up, and found a warm, clothed waist.

Sensing movement from the corner of his eye, a head lifted. It was her, and she looked surprised. Her mouth was covered in some kind of dark substance, hard to tell in the light that was barely there, her lips dark with it as it trailed down her chin. Her hand smoothed over his chest, and she smiled sweetly, noticing the smallest bit of teeth exposed from under her upper lip. 

“You’re okay,” she cooed quietly, and he felt warm fingertips brush his lips. Feeling a soft roll of her hips, he groaned softly. Whatever this dream was, it was both thrilling and terrifying. “It’s okay, Joel. Go back to sleep, I’ve got you,” and her head moved back down from his view, and he felt the ghost of warm lips on his neck.

With no other choice and no strength to fight it, his hand dropped from her waist and complete darkness overtook him again.

When he awoke, the sun was barely peeking through the curtains, and he felt heavy, his head spinning like he was drunk. He shifted, trying to bring feeling into his limbs again, and he smelled something oddly appealing. 

Meat.

He slowly sat himself up right and saw the fire was still going steadily, more firewood sitting next to the fireplace. He heard movement behind him and turned to look back but winced, rubbing his neck, feeling like the muscle was spasming. He pulled his legs off the couch, and rubbed his eyes. When they cleared, he looked to the kitchen to see her at the kitchen table, canteens sitting and a plate of food waiting. She was pouring over a book, and he stood up slowly, his joints cracking lightly and making him wince.

She looked up at the sound and smiled, closing her book. 

“Made you something,” she said cheerily. He nodded, craning his neck to see what was on the table. “Got a squirrel this morning, hope you don’t mind I used your rifle. I don’t know how to set traps, so…” she said, and he walked over to the kitchen table slowly, settling in the seat. Shooting her a look, he wondered how the hell he slept through the shot. Was he really that tired?

He could see some vegetables from a can that were steaming next to the seared meat. His stomach grumbled, and he quickly took the (somehow clean?) fork and dug in. He realized he probably looked like an animal, and slowed down, his eyes raising to her. She grinned, leaning back and crossing her arms.

“Good, isn’t it?” She laughed, and he nodded, swallowing.

“Sorry.” He murmured, a bit ashamed of his lack of manners. She laughed, and shook her head,

“No, it’s okay. I had some food myself before you woke up. You should have seen me… Probably looked like a monster or an animal or something.” She laughed, and he grunted in response, continuing to eat. Feeling like life was literally coming back to him, he sat up and back. He regarded her with a guarded expression, trying to piece together what his dream meant. He could still feel the impression of hands on him, and he rubbed his chest absentmindedly.

“How are you feeling?” she questioned, and he shrugged, looking out the kitchen window that showed the sun was high in the sky. How long had he been asleep?

“Fine.” he said, rubbing his face and letting it fall into his lap. She nodded, and picked up the plate and fork, walking over and setting it in the sink like she was a dutiful housewife performing tasks. He half expected her to turn on the water and wash it. But, she turned and faced him, smiling lightly.

“You look better.” she noted, nodding to him. He scoffed, and shook his head, wincing at his neck pain again.

“Wish I felt as good as I look, then.” he said, rubbing his neck absentmindedly. She watched him, tilting her head to the side. She pushed off the counter, and walked over to him. She gestured to him, like she was asking permission to help. He looked at her and frowned,

“I don’t need- I’m fine. It’s alright.” he said, waving her off and she rolled her eyes, scoffing.

“Don’t be such a man. It’s okay to accept help every once in a while.” she said, and walked behind him. He shifted uneasily, and then felt her hands on his shoulders. Light, careful… warm.

He tensed when she began to rub, and she laughed lightly,

“Joel, if you don’t relax, you won’t help yourself.” she said, and he frowned down into his lap, and willed himself to relax. But, he just couldn’t. The thought of someone being so near, and a woman at that- he was just a man, after all. She worked at a particular knot in his shoulder and he flinched. He felt her shift behind him, and as she leaned forward, he could feel her face nearly against his ear.

“Relax.” she breathed quietly, and like a switch had flipped, he sunk into the chair. It felt like he was weightless- floating in the ocean, carried wherever the tide took him. Not a care in the world. Nothing mattered in the moment- not the Infected that roamed outside, the threat of raiders, the overall state of the world- nothing. Just bliss.

He let out a soft sigh, his head lolling forward as she continued to rub at his shoulders, her lithe hands moving to his neck. He sighed as the warmth enveloped him, feeling almost hot at this point- but the heat soothed his neck, making him even more lax. 

“Does that feel good?” she murmured, and he lifted his head slightly, mumbling a “yeah.” He could feel her hands working at his neck delicately, like she wasn’t massaging anymore but just… feeling. He really had been deprived of human connection, human touch, that he let out a soft moan.

His eyes opened gently, and he saw her kneeling in front of him, her eyebrows knitted in concern. She was calling his name, back down from the cloud he had been floating on. He blinked, and she put a hand on his knee.

“I think you dozed off.” she laughed lightly, and he looked at her, then the hand on his knee. He cleared his throat, sitting up straight but couldn’t tear his eyes away from her hand. She didn’t move it, even as he tried to regain composure.

“Yeah, uh… you must have magic hands.” he said, and she grinned. If he thought her teeth were bright and straight last night, it was even more so apparent today. And her lips were a deeper shade, like she had been putting on lipstick or receiving too many kisses. He swallowed.

She stood up slowly, and he watched her with soft brown eyes. He felt rooted in the chair, caught in her orbit. She nudged his knees apart gently, and he spread them dutifully, leaning back in the chair with a heavy stare. She tilted her head to the side, her hand moving out to touch his chest. He raised his hand, placing it over hers as it pressed over his steadily beating heart. She smiled, and he felt utterly entranced. Every movement was slow, graceful. He didn’t even notice when she settled into his lap, her other hand moving to the back of his neck. 

His free hand moved to her waist, where it held her gently. She was silent as the grave, but her body language and gaze spoke volumes. He could see this look in her eyes- soft, sultry, and maybe a bit pitiful. He raised his hand from his chest to her face, where he cupped her cheek gently. He leaned up slowly, like he was trying to emulate her easy movements, and she bent her head to meet him halfway, joining their lips in a kiss. 

The hand that rested on the back of his neck became firm, her hand curling up and holding his hair at the base of his neck. She leaned into the kiss and he sucked in a breath through his nose, feeling a hunger come over him. His hand on her waist became possessive, grabbing her and pulling her close and he heard her gasp softly against his lips. 

“What do you want?” he whispered against her lips as he went between kissing them and hovering over them. His jeans grew tight in his lap, and he could feel her smirk against his lips, giving her hips a roll. He groaned, his eyebrows furrowing and he pulled her down to guide her movements. 

“You,” she murmured, moving to kiss his cheek, his cheekbone, then jaw. He sighed, his eyes falling shut at her warm lips pressing against him. “I want all of you.”

When she moved to his neck, she lay a few careful kisses on the skin, moving to his pulse point. He grit his teeth, bringing her pelvis down to his to grind against him, his cock harder than it had been in years. 

“Fuck,” he whispered, taking her face back in his hand and crashing his lips against hers. She leaned into him, moving her hips in a way that made him moan. His hands found their way under her thighs and in a moment of sheer strength and lust, he lifted her up and carried her to the couch.

He lay her back on it and she huffed, looking up at him with glassy eyes and a smirk on those pretty lips. Her eyes moved down his chest, and he began to undo the buttons of his flannel, not even needing her to ask. She pushed herself up as he let it slide off his shoulders, pulling his undershirt off not too long after. She raised a hand, pressing against his stomach, up to his sternum, then chest. He leaned down to her and her hand snaked around his neck, pulling him towards her. He crawled over top of her, and she smiled, kissing his lips deeply. 

He sighed into her mouth, and ground his hips against hers. Hand moving up her side, under her shirt, he reveled in her warmth. She pulled away to pull her shirt off, and he was surprised to see nothing underneath. Fine by him, since he dove in and took a nipple into his mouth, giving it a hard suck. She whined, her hand curling in his hair again. He grunted in response to her flexing against his hair, and he bit down on it with just enough pressure to make her gasp, her hips lifting to his.

“Joel…” she whispered, her voice sounding familiar. Comforting.

He moved to her other breast, his hand moving up to fondle the other that he had abandoned. He laved against her skin, tasting her sweetness and soft, supple body. Everything about her seemed magical, other worldly- like she was an angel coming down to please him and him only.

He breathed her name into her skin, trailing kisses up her breast, her chest, her neck, her jaw. She whined in response again, and it only made the hardness in his jeans a bit more unbearable. He felt a tug at his waistband, and he undid her jeans, sliding them down and he stood to rid himself of his own pants. When his cock sprung free, hard and red and weeping with precome, she looked like she could salivate on the spot.

With their bodies now fully exposed, Joel settled between her legs, his hips grinding against hers. His cock brushed her slick core, and her body twitched in response. He couldn’t help the moan that escaped him, just thinking that she was just so wet. And all for him? He was a lucky man.

He felt her hand move down his side, then to his front where it wrapped around his cock. He sucked in a breath, feeling stiff and like he needed a release as quickly as possible. She dragged his cock over her pussy, and he shuddered. She looked up at him, pulling him up to meet her gaze.

“You want this,” she asked, but it ended up sounding more like a statement. He looked at her with a pleading expression, nodding gently, and she smiled like she had won the lottery. She kissed him deeply, and lined him up against her core. Without much more encouragement, he slipped inside her. 

Their chorus of moans echoed around the room, and Joel’s hips began to move as if on their own accord. He was completely out of this world by now- he didn’t feel like he was in control of his body. He felt like he was just sitting inside, feeling, and watching it happen. 

But god, was it not all so fucking good. Every sense was afire, his skin feeling as hot as the surface as the sun. He even began to collect sweat on his forehead, and down his spine.

He moved his hips against hers, dipping his head into the curve of her neck, laying soft kisses there. She tensed beneath him, and it caused his hips to falter just a bit, his cock twitching within her. She wrapped her legs around his hips, and was able to take him deeper. He felt like his arms would give out from holding himself up with the way she twitched and moved her hips against his. The way his tip hit her cervix was making him tense. He felt her lips on his neck again, and he gripped the blanket beneath them so much his knuckles turned white with pressure. 

“God- goddamn.” he huffed against her skin, and he could feel her grin against his skin, laying a soft kiss on the side of his neck.

“God has nothing to do with us.” she said quietly, and he nodded, feeling like he was going to combust. His movements got more erratic, more frantic, the couch shifting beneath them as Joel continued his assault on her body. 

“I’m gonna- fuck-” he choked out, and she kept her legs tightly around him, feeling her heels dig into his ass. 

“It’s okay, baby. Let go.” she whispered, and he could feel the pressure rising in his lower stomach, and then suddenly it was as if a dam had burst. His hot spend began to release in her womb, and he then felt a pinch on his neck, lightheadedness coming over him. 

“It’s alright,” she cooed, and he somehow managed to keep thrusting into her through his high, panting into her neck. He felt warmth run down his shoulder, and her hand moved to his back to keep him against her. Her hand that lay on his neck curled in, keeping him locked in place. 

He didn’t know what came over him, but he turned his face to her neck and bit down. Hard.

She cried out, her body spasming around him and he almost came again, tasting something bitter and of iron on his tongue. Her body convulsed around him, and his hips were slowing down. Her head stayed pressed against his neck, that pain he felt turning into a dull throb. She laid her head back down, and he pulled away to see blood drip onto her chest from his lips. 

He panted, looking down at her as she looked up at him with stars in her eyes, her lips tinged with red that dripped from the corners of her mouth. He leaned down and kissed her there, licking up the liquid and hearing her sigh against him softly. He pulled out of her at last, his spend dripping out of her weeping hole. He collapsed on top of her, but managed to keep one arm up to keep looking at her. Her hand moved to his parted red lips and swiped the blood from his lower lip gently. 

She raised her finger in her mouth and licked, smiling up at him. Her hand moved to touch his cheek, bringing his forehead against hers as he panted, trying so hard to not pass out.

“I have been waiting for you.” she whispered, and he could only look at her in awe. She really was beautiful- exquisite. Ethereal. Divine. Like she didn’t belong amongst unremarkable, average humans.

He wouldn’t know this now, but when the next day would break, things would be different. Very, very different. Almost alarmingly so. 

But for now, he leaned his head into the crook of her neck that still seeped crimson, and pressed his lips there. He sighed, relaxed, and his eyes fell closed with the feeling of her hand moving steadily through his dark curls threaded with silver. 

Comment, like, reblog, anything is appreciated! Divider by @/saradika-graphics!

[jemgirl86]

For the "send me a ship and one of these and i’ll write a mini fic" sambucky and 15. things you said with too many miles between us

Hi! Sorry for the wait :) But what can I say? The Golden Globes inspired me lol

Also, tagging @funsized-loser who asked for the same prompt. Thank you both!

Sam pulled his vibrating phone out of his pocket and smiled. Normally, he wouldn’t have left his phone on at all when he was at the studio, but it wasn’t exactly a normal day. His close friend.. occasional muse… lover… partner? Well, maybe. They hadn’t exactly defined it, clearly, and they certainly hadn’t told more than a couple of people about it, but his… well, his something, his very important something, was having a very important night. And, since Sam couldn’t be there in person, which he kind of still felt like shit about, he’d figured the least he could do was break one of his oldest self-imposed rules and leave his phone on while he was recording just this once.

Sam looked over to where his band was settling back in after a short break, and grimaced. He knew what he was about to say wasn’t going to go over well.

“Hey, guys, let’s take five - again,” he said, sheepishly.

“Wilson,” Rhodey sighed, wearing a frown.

Sam’s bass guitarist was even more of a tight ass than he was, and usually Sam appreciated having some backup when he was trying to get the rest of the guys to focus during some of their longer and more brutal recording sessions, but right now, with his phone still buzzing in his hand, appreciation was about the last thing he was feeling.

“I just need a minute,” he said, and started making his way toward the exit.

“Sam,” an exasperated voice called over the intercom.

He looked up to see his manager, Isaiah, and really, everyone else behind the glass too, staring at him in disbelief. “This deadline for—

“I know,” he bit out, frustration boiling over. His phone had already stopped ringing, and started back all over again, and Sam didn’t want Bucky to think he was ignoring him, on today of all days especially. He didn’t want to let his — he didn’t want to let Bucky down.

Read the rest on ao3!

[writingsfromhome]

The Ex-Text

Epilogue: what’s next

A/N: this isn’t so much an epilogue than a part two but it just fit better to call it one lol. But it’s the final instalment in the Ex-Text so make sure you read the first two. As always, ty for reading this far <3

Prologue (text) / Main (ex) / Epilogue (what’s next)

—————————

It was a bit of a wet morning but I was determined to have a good day. And it’s like the world listened because by the time I got my morning coffee the sun had decided to kiss my skin hello. It was a Friday, I had a weekend of bachelorette festivities—our last girls weekend before Taz officially married next weekend. And I was going to a job I loved after changing roles last year, and getting promoted to the position I’d been chasing after.

It had been a year and 7 months since the night I decided to change. It wasn’t linear by any means but I had a better sense of who I was and what I wanted nowadays. I stuck up for myself, and felt less end-of-the-world if someone didn’t like me. I wasn’t perfect all the time, but things were better.

I’m so excited for tomorrow, I read Taz’s text in the lift up. I’d set up a spa day for the bridesmaids, and then a potentially rowdy evening across a few bars with a scavenger hunt. As the maid of honour I took my duties very seriously. I was friends with most of the invitees either from childhood or through Taz—there were a handful of girls from high school that Taz and I were friends with who I hadn’t seen in a while. It was going to be an interesting weekend.

***

“So YN,” Taz’s cousin slides in beside me wiggling her phone. This was our second pub on the list and she had the lead for the scavenger hunt by two. The group had enough drinks that everyone was loud and comfortable even though not everyone knew each other well. “How far along are you?”

“I’m not playing,” I made the game. I tell her that.

“Oh c’mon!” She looks at the girls sitting near us. “You’re just trying to get out of some of these! Like kiss a stranger, or find a way to write your number on someone’s arm? You’re cheeky with these—find someone to do a musical number with—“

“That’s how I know I’m not winning the hunt,” Felicity says. “I’m shite at dancing.”

“No you was so good back in school,” Taz giggles as she catches up. “Dots was even better, remember when she went with that wanker to the year 11 dance and oh what was his name-“

“I heard my name,” Dots pokes her head through. “You lot are loud.”

“Have you heard them?” Taz’s cousin points to the other end of the table. Someone’s getting a shot poured directly into their mouth.

“Taz are you participating in the hunt?” Felicity waves her phone that has the app pulled up.

“I’m getting married in a week so…only the PG ones.”

“No one’s going to say anything if you do number 7,” Dots winks. I smile uncomfortably, remembering the grip the peer pressure these girls had in high school that lead me to some pretty bad decisions.

“Taz is too much of an angel to do anything like that,” I try to swoop in for her.

“Then you should do it for her.” Dots says, her eyes alight with mischief. “Since you’re not playing. That way the bride-to-be has a chance to win.”

“Yeah!” Felicity jumps right into the plan eagerly. “It’s not like you’re dating someone right?”

“I…”

“I don’t need to win that bad,” Taz tries to come to my rescue but the plan is too enticing for these girls.

“Oh yeah YN you never got back on the horse after…Ethan?” Taz’s cousin mouths the word like he was going to appear if she said it too loud.

“No it’s…” I’m tempted to lie. To look good. Everyone leans in to hear the end of my sentence and I blurt out. “It’s complicated.”

“Ooh what’s that mean?” They move in closer and I feel crushed. I avoid Taz’s eye, she knew I hadn’t dated in forever. Not for lack of wanting, but I found opening myself up to new people was more exhausting than it used to be. Being in one long term relationship after the other, then taking a huge break, now dating felt like learning to walk again.

“Um,” I try to backtrack on the lie. “It’s just complicated but technically I’m not dating someone right now!”

“Wait so you’re not bringing a plus one to the wedding?” Someone asks.

“Well I-“

“You should invite the guy! If he comes you know he’s serious and if he doesn’t…”

“Yeah!” Felicity grabs my arm. “Invite him! I want to see Ethan’s rebound that manwhore.”

“It’s not really a rebound when it’s been years,” Taz says. I agree, but I’m also touched by the vehemence in Fel’s voice when she talks about Ethan.

“Well screw the guy. If he’s complicated, you can kiss anyone you want at any bar you want. So?”

“YN,” Taz’s murmur catches my attention. She shoots me a warning, I had to put my foot down. Not give in because I wanted to please. I should but with this many eyes on me I chicken out.

“Fine. But maybe pick number 7 at the next bar, this group looks uni aged.” I feel Taz’s disappointment beside me.

“So? I had a thing with a 21 year old last summer,” Fels shrugs.

“Ew. Didn’t you feel like his mother?” Taz asks and I laugh, a bit of the pent up energy releasing with it.

“No, he was a big boy. He knew how to take care of himself.” She grins. The topic shifts to her and I think I’m forgotten until the hour hits and we decide to move places.

“Okay YN I know you’ve mapped this all out but if we’re trying to get you a good number 7 I know a better place where I used to live. Last summer actually.” Felicity links her arm through mine as we walk out.

“We know how well that went,” Taz’s cousin teases.

“Exactly! May I? Girls! Change of location on the third cuz Taz has to win tonight-“

“I really don’t want the gift card that badly.” Taz says but it’s drowned out by everyone cheering. God we were all well on our way to drunk.

***

“That one,” someone whispers to me. She points to a tall blonde with a cardigan on.

“Mmm too bookish,” someone else says. Somehow the whole group was debriefed on the way over that I was to have the most epic kiss with a stranger for Taz’s sake. Because even though she had three other missing items on her list, doing this would make her win.

“Well that creep over there just bought me shots,” Taz slurs. We look to where she points, it’s a guy who had been a potential kisser. The group crosses him out as well as the line item on her list. Now she was down to 2 to win.

Felicity had led us to her old local area, one I hadn’t spent much time in but sounded familiar. Even though I’d planned the pub crawl to the detail I had to let go of the control and go with the crowd.

“Okay YN you have to do this now,” Dot says. “You can kill two birds, then Taz is free to win.”

“Doesn’t anyone else want to win?” I ask pathetically.

“No!” The group encourages me. “You need this too YN!”

“Him,” Fels points to a guy sitting at the bar. He’s talking with the bartender who’s laughing at whatever he’s saying. “Look, he’s funny and nice enough to talk to the bartender. He’ll give you a nice smooch.” She kisses my cheek with this statement.

“Oh he’s cute,” Taz says and I glare at her.

“You can’t even see his face.” I tell her.

“Yeah but his hair is nice,” she rubs my cheek where Felicity kissed me. “And his shirt stretches nicely over-“

“Okay bride-to-be,” she was such a traitor.

“What? A girl can’t look?” Taz asks. She wraps an arm around my shoulder and leans in. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I know,” but with all these girls waiting on me to I didn’t have another choice. I just had to get over it. Plus I hadn’t kissed someone in over a year so I wasn’t complaining if he was cute. And Taz was right, from the back he was cute. “Fine.”

I step away from the crowd and they all gasp. They get ready for the show and so do I. I clear my throat, push my shoulders back—my cleavage looked great in this dress so I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt, and head over. My stomach drops with nerves but I take a deep breath and tap the bloke on the shoulder.

My lungs deflate like a released balloon when the face looking back at me is Harry. Harry the ex-texter.

He blinks, then blinks some more. Meanwhile I stand there staring.

“YN!?” Harry turns the barstool to face me. His neck must’ve started cramping.

“I-uh,” I glance back at the girls and they’re all pretending not to stare but it’s a bad attempt. They’re staring.

“It’s you-I-“ Harry stands up, it seems like he was going in for a hug but he thinks better of it almost immediately. “What are you doing here?”

“Hi,” I say lamely. I feel the shame of the last time we spoke. That YN feels like someone else. Someone people manipulated easily. Like him.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” he laughs nervously and his eyes roam up and down my body. He runs his fingers through his hair and looks back. “I think there’s a massive group of women there staring at us? Have you rounded up a gang to kick my-“

“Ignore them,” I quickly take a seat beside where he was sitting. He takes one last glance at them and sits back down.

“Can I get you a drink?”

“No no,” my mind is occupied. I couldn’t kiss him. This was the worst person in the world to have picked, why was he here damnit?

Then I remember why this area was familiar to me. His address was only a street or so over, this is close to where I’d picked him up that day.

“Actually, I’ll do a a vodka soda.”

He orders for me while I try to sort out my thoughts.

“So are you in a cult? Am I some sort of blood sacrifice?” Harry throws another glance over his shoulder.

I finally look at him. He looked good, of course he did. He’d decided to do something about those razor blades—he’d thrown them out; he sports a mustache and stubble. His hair is styled, nicer than it was when I met him. His eyes are murky waters and I don’t look at them too long. I spot the gym bag by his feet, so that’s why his shirt fit so well…

Omg.

“Actually,” I consider what he’d just said. “You’re not too far off.”

“Wait really?” His eyes bug out. “You’re joking.”

“Well the cult is actually a bridal party,” I say. “And the blood sacrifice is a number on our scavenger hunt.”

“Oh,” it dawns on him. “I’m fresh blood. You already have my number, wait is that why you came up to me?”

“No I actually didn’t even know it was you,” I say honestly. “They picked you out from the crowd.”

“Really?” Harry looks back, now intrigued that this group of women found him fit enough to pick out.

“Don’t let it get to your head,” I roll my eyes. My drink had landed in front of me so I take a sip.

“Well? You have my number right?” When I just nod he laughs. “Wait. You need something more.”

“Well obviously I’m going to lose this scavenger hunt,” I scowl. “Don’t worry.”

He chuckles and looks to the front, meanwhile I try not to squirm. Being around him wasn’t the best feeling, especially on my way to drunk. I felt hot with embarrassment and yet the intrigue of who he really was still stayed with me. And it stays because even now, despite not trusting him or liking him very much I felt like I had room to just be myself. He was an easy presence despite his baggage. Or maybe because of it.

It seems we were good at silences because we drink without saying a word. It’s like our brains are catching up to our sudden run-in.

“How have you been?” Harry asks quietly.

Fine, I’m going to say automatically. But I answer truthfully. “Alright. Life’s been better but also nobody’s tricked me into going to a cheating ex’s wedding so life’s been a lot worse!”

He laughs awkwardly and clinks his bottle against my glass. “Yeah. I deserve that.”

“Yeah. How about you?”

“Better. A lot better.”

“Good to hear,” I say genuinely. Despite my grievances it was nice to hear he was past whatever he’d been in when we first met.

“I think about you often,” he says while still looking forward. Oh god this felt like being in a car with him. I turn my body towards him and tap my knee against his. He looks at me, like we’re having an actual conversation. “I do. About what I did to you…I’m sorry.”

“Yeah you’ve said.”

“Yeah,” he grimaces. I wasn’t going to let him off the hook so easily. Being manipulated and lied to like that still stung. It was rock bottom for me in a way. “I was a dick. I’m deeply sorry and I’ve thought about how to make it up to you but I thought I should just stop texting you ever. Trust me that was rock bottom for me and you didn’t deserve to be dragged down with me.”

I try not to look surprised when he says it was his rock bottom, like I was thinking seconds earlier.

“You got one thing right,” I tap at his phone. I wasn’t going to tell him I forgave him, or that I understood even though I did. I didn’t like him very much, I didn’t trust him, but I knew he was sorry when he said it.

I remember the wedding—there was something I wanted to apologize for, “Well now that we’re unloading apologies, I am actually sorry for uhm, slapping you that night? That’s not me. And I don’t know where it came from! I feel bad about that.”

His laugh is quiet, to himself. “You shouldn’t be apologizing for anything. Anything at all YN.”

God, the way he says my name is addictive. He said it like everyone else, but in his voice…

“I know. But that crossed a line…”

“Nah don’t worry. Plus I don’t mind when a woman slaps me around a little,” his face splits into a grin when I give him the reaction he was looking for.

“Harry,” I scold. “You’re teaching children with that mouth?”

“That’s why I’m quitting.”

“You’re quitting!?”

“Yep. Phase 3 of my plan, to live the life I want. I’m finishing the school year and looking for a job in my field over the summer.”

“Wow,” I was impressed. “Wow Harry. Good luck with that.”

“Yeah I’ll need it thanks.” The way he looks at me makes me nervous. I think I’ve been single a bit too long. And right on cue he asks: “So YN how about you? Are you still doing your single thing?”

“I feel like you’re still talking about it like you don’t believe in it,” I tell myself to calm down every time he says my name.

“No I-“ he plays with his bottle. “I believe you. I’ve tried it, it’s been good for me. But I started dating again this year and I found I really love that too.”

“Yeah?” I ask him more about it. He tells me he’s dating knowing what he wants now. What kind of woman he’s looking for.

I felt like focusing on myself has helped me with that too. The only issue is I was finding it hard to open myself up to men again.

“I haven’t been dating much,” at all. “But I’m open to it now.”

“Show anyone your mean side lately?” He jokes but in there is a serious question.

“That’s only reserved for you,” I say, then realize how flirty it sounds and clamp down on my tongue. Maybe I should stop drinking. I didn’t even know Harry very well. But when I peek a glance he looks flushed.

I liked this version of Harry better. I wonder if he was like this before, before he had his heart broken, or even before he started dating Vanessa. But I don’t tell him that, I didn’t want him to think we were friends or anything.

We fall into silence again, not an uncomfortable one though. I look at him, he looked the same but different. Like a change had taken place underneath the surface. I imagine he’s studying me the same way. He smiles and I return it.

A body pushing into the side of me interrupts us. Dots is there with Taz and they wave the bartender down for a drink even though they could’ve ordered from the table. I roll my eyes and turn to them.

“Hi,” I look between them. Dots looks mischievous as usual and Taz seems curious.

“Aren’t you going to introduce us YN?” Dots asks.

“Oh, this is Harry,” I eye Taz when I say it. She’s a bit slow but when I introduce them to Harry it dawns on her. Her face darkens as she pinpoints who he is.

“Harry is it?” Taz asks. “I’ve never met a Harry I liked.”

Dots looks over at her like she’s grown another head, clued out and assuming I was still here to kiss him.

“Oh well…” Harry looks just as confused at her sudden intensity. “I hope I can change your mind about that?”

“Too late for that,” she nearly spits out. I watch his eyes widen and then go to me. I’m biting back a smile.

“Taz, right you’re Taz.” He sounds like he remembers her.

“And I’m Dots,” Dots repeats. Poor girl was clueless. “We’re just doing a bachelorette thing and YN seemed to think you were cute enough to ditch us right?”

“Really?” Harry takes pleasure in playing along.

“Well no I—ow!” Dots interrupts me by smashing her elbow into me. I sigh. “Right. Yeah. You were irresistible, I had to ditch my friends for a man like you.”

“Sarcasm,” Harry says just low enough for me to hear. He’s smiling.

“YN you should come back,” Taz tries to grab my arm but Dots is like a pro as she cuts that off.

“No we’re just doing the same thing back there. Talking and drinking. You two enjoy. You should give him your number here.” She drops a sharpie in my hand. “Let’s go Taz.”

I try to warn Taz with my expression, please don’t tell anyone I know him. None of these girls knew I went to Ethan’s wedding, it was an embarrassing story on my timeline I didn’t need to share. I didn’t want them to know the story of how I knew Harry.

“Your friends are scary.”

“I guess,” I turn back to him. My drink was nearly empty and I did think it was time to go back. “I should go back to them.”

“Oh,” he looks disappointed.

“What?”

“I thought we were having a nice time.”

“Yeah well we were catching up. And now my drink’s finished and I’m-“

“I can buy you another?”

“I think I’ve had enough. This is our third place on our night crawl so…”

“Fair.” Harry looks at me like he has something to say. I stand there and wait but in the end he just sighs and sits back down.

“Oh yeah I’m going to write my number,” I grab his arm and pull his sleeve up. Holy muscles. “on your arm. If that’s alright?”

“Sure,” he smiles and his dimples make an appearance. It’s boyish, like we’re teenagers exchanging numbers.

I write it down even though he had it, cap the marker, and look up. We’re so close; his eyes flit to my mouth and away so quickly I almost miss it.

“I’ll get this tattooed,” Harry jokes.

“I’ll change my number if you do,” I warn him. He just shrugs like he didn’t believe me and I shake my head, turning back to my friends.

I get back to a group of disappointed women. They give me a hard time and tell me how upset they are that I don’t care about Taz winning. They try to tell me how good we looked together, how I looked with him.

“We’re not leaving until you kiss him,” Felicity says.

“Leave her alone! He smelled like bad news,” Taz says. She was well past drunk now so no one listens to her.

“Ethan was bad news,” Fels states. “This guy is just a random man you can kiss and invite as a plus one. Have some fun with him. Get back into the pool where all the fish are. C’mon YN we know your dating life is shite!”

“Remind me to never get drunk with you lot,” I stare at them. They were scary. “I gave him my number, at least Taz can cross that out!”

“Wait! Harry!” Everyone begins to shout his name as they spot him leaving behind me.

I catch him turning with a wary expression. He points to himself. The girls shout “Yes!” and earn some dirty looks from the other patrons.

He walks up to our table like a sacrifice to an ancient ritual. “You ladies need something?”

“Yes,” a few voices say but Felicity is the loudest. She points to Taz who has her head down on the table. I should check on her.

“See this beautiful creature here? She’s getting married! Married! And we have a scavenger hunt. And she can almost win! But she needs to kiss someone at the bar. But she’s getting married! And you look decent enough to help this bride-to-be! So YN her wonderful friend is helping out. And she chickened out up there. So she wants to kiss you. Does she have your permission?”

“Does she?” He turns to me. God I was helpless with the pressure around me. My eyes lock onto Harry and I hope he can read the help etched into them.

“This is silly,” I tell him. “We don’t need to do this. I don’t think Taz even cares.”

“I don’t!” I guess she was conscious because she lifts her head to answer me. But everyone crowds her out, her cousin actually guides her head back down.

“You owe her a kiss,” Dots says proudly.

“I owe her a lot actually,” Harry says to me. My heart races as we look at each other.

I would be lying if I said the idea of kissing him doesn’t intrigue me. He was attractive! And his facial hair made him more so. But I didn’t want to complicate anything.

What’s there to complicate? I ask myself. It’s not like he’s in your life. Plus maybe this will be the push to start dating again. Kisses are nice right?

“Okay whatever,” I take a step towards him. “It’s not like this means anything. It’s just a kiss.”

A cheer goes up with the group.

Harry drops his bag to the floor and takes the other step to me. “It doesn’t mean anything?”

“No,” I say more to myself. “It’s just a kiss with a guy.”

“Just a kiss with a guy,” Harry repeats. “If you say so.”

His hand reaches up to my neck and he pulls me gently to him, with his height I crane my face up and his warm lips come down on mine exactly how I imagined it would feel. That’s when I realize I had imagined how he would feel. But it’s too late by then.

It feels like hearing music live for the first time, I can suddenly hear every atom of the song. I can feel it, taste it, even smell the soundwaves pounding through the room. That’s what the kiss feels like. Ultrasonic and consuming as hell.

He’s gentle but I can tell he’s holding back with the way his hand grips the back of my head tight. And that sends my senses into overdrive. Even though his moustache is a bit tickly, he was a really good kisser.

When we part, I laugh because I’m nervous but also he has lipstick on his face.

“That was hot,” someone in the group says but we can’t take our eyes off of each other. I’m trying to remember how to breathe and it seems like Harry is doing the same.

“You have-“ I laugh nervously again and reach up to wipe the lipstick from the side of his mouth. This close his pupils are blown out and it only confirms to me that he was holding back. Because he looks like a man who can barely contain himself.

“Uhm,” he finally breaks his gaze to look at all the women staring. “I hope that was satisfactory enough.”

“That was movie worthy,” everyone begins shouting scores out. Some of then fan themselves with the menu. Harry clears his throat, picks up his bag, does an awkward half-bow, and stiffly nods to me.

“G’night YN.”

“Yeah…thanks.” I didn’t know what to say after having the most intense kiss of my life. To Harry. The ex-texter.

“I need some water after that,” Felicity climbs over me out of the booth and I slide in by Taz.

“I’m sorry,” she wraps her arms around my shoulder. “We have really shitty friends.”

“You have amazing friends,” Dots says. “We just broke YN’s dry spell. Did you see that? That was chemistry YN. That was wow. I hope you got his number.”

“I have it,” I sigh.

I decide I was going to drink more. I didn’t want to remember this night anymore.

***

It’s the Friday after and I’m at work, it’s a slow day so I’m scrolling through my phone when a notification pops up.

Hi

It was Harry.

Hi. I text back. I’d been thinking about him a lot this week, about the kiss, and about dating again. I wouldn’t admit it to my friends but it was a reminder that chemistry existed somewhere out there.

I don’t want our whole relationship to be wedding crashing so I want to run something past you.

???

Your friend Felicity invited me to Taz’s wedding. Tomorrow. She said you knew but you haven’t texted me all week so I think she’s setting you up?

I couldn’t believe it. I text Felicity and she responds immediately with a kissy emoji and a tongue sticking out.

I’m sorry I didn’t know, Fels just confirmed. You don’t need to come she’s just on this mission to get me a date.

She said you have a flaky boyfriend?

Oh my god the lie had spread. So embarassing, I was going to strangle Fels.

Really I’m alright. Sorry about that.

I would like to see you again. Even if it’s at a wedding. But I’ll only go if you invite me.

Wow. I read the message another time then put my phone away. What was I supposed to do?

I take my phone into the toilets and call Taz. She picks up, it sounds like she’s in a car.

“Hi you free?”

“Yeah I’m just getting back from the salon, what’s going on?”

I tell her. I tell her it all, the conversation Harry and I had and how I was feeling and what Felicity did.

“That one does not know how to keep her nose out of people’s businesses.”

“I know,” I groan. “I could not invite him and get a million questions from everyone who knows Fels invited him. And I keep him out of my life. Which is fine because I barely know him (even though that kiss felt like I’ve known him for all of eternity). But if I invite him, I’m telling him I’m okay with what he did to me. That we’re okay.”

“YN listen,” she sighs. She says something to someone on her end and I hear a car door close. “Look—sorry just getting in. You’re not that person anymore. I don’t trust him more than you do but just tell him that. So he knows you’re only taking him to get everyone to shut up. Like…use him as a date like he used you.”

“Hm,” that was a good point. “Yeah. That could actually work?”

“Really? I thought I was just saying shite,” Taz laughs. “Okay I really have to go my in-laws are here. Are you alright?”

“Yeah yeah you focus on your stuff. I’ll be by this evening.”

“Love you, bye!”

I call Harry immediately after. He doesn’t pick up so I go back to my desk and consider what to text him when he calls back.

“YN I was still in class sorry.”

“Oh god sorry I forgot!” I look at the time. “Sorry I just assumed you were free.”

“No it’s alright,” he answers. “Are you calling about tomorrow?”

“Yeah…” my mouth is suddenly parched. I get up and walk away from where people could hear me. “So, the thing is my friends are giving me a hard time because I don’t have a date and all that. So sort of the way you used me as a date at that wedding, I could use you at this one. Like if would be doing me a favour?” I cringe as the words come out.

“Oh. Sure…yeah if you want.” He sounds…offended?

“Like if we’re being honest we’ve not really spoken since that night. And I have no reason to trust you and whatever. So this is just…”

“Returning the favour.” He puts it simply.

“Yeah? Yeah! Right. Exactly.” Why was this coming out so horribly.

“I get it,” he says. “I’m glad we talked. I’d be happy to be your plus one tomorrow.”

“Perfect,” I find myself smiling.

***

Taz’s wedding is a dream. An absolute dream. I tell her a million times after the ceremony and I gush to her how much I love her and am proud of her during speeches. Her bridesmaids give their toast, and every person who was at the bachelorette makes sure to tease me about bringing Harry who had been nothing but supportive tonight. He stuck to himself when I was doing maid-of-honour duties, and squeezed my hand encouragingly before my speech because public speaking was not my favourite thing. I had to admit it was nice to have someone here just for me. It had been a while.

When Taz told me she got engaged a couple years ago I always thought it would be Ethan by my side. It was weird that Harry was here, because of Ethan, but also the way he came to be here.

“Hi!!” I shout at Harry after doing shots with the bridesmaids. I was officially tipsy but most of the major wedding traditions were over. We were waiting for the cake cutting and bouquet toss and the first dance. And then it was all fun.

“Hi,” he holds out an arm to guide me to my seat.

“I hate these heels,” I unstrap my feet and groan when I put my feet on the bare floor. “That feels sooo good.”

“Hi!” A chirpy voice says to my right. I peek an eye open and groan again, Felicity has joined the table.

“Hi, Felicity right?” Harry says.

“Fels,” she nudges me. “You glad he came?”

“Whatever,” I shrug.

“She’s happy you came,” Fels tries to make up for my rudeness. “She’s not usually this rude.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Harry says. I cut him a look.

“Oh no she’s very nice. She’s just a bit grumpy probably all the maid of honour duties,” she tries to convince a Harry that’s just sharing an inside joke with me. It does something to me.

“It’s okay,” I put a hand on Fels’. “He’s teasing. I’m allowed to be rude to him.”

Harry laughs and Felicity realizes too late she was sitting in on two people that didn’t need her help to get along.

“Well I’m going to find my date, play nice!”

“Nice suit,” I tug at Harry’s lapels once she’s gone. It was nicer than what he wore the last time we met.

“I borrowed it from a friend. I only have one suit and…well you’ve seen it.”

“Teachers don’t wear suits to work?” I tease.

“Thank god no.” His eyes roam over my bridesmaid dress, an off the shoulder sage dress that honestly reminded me of a folky tinkerbell. “You look beautiful.”

“Flattery won’t get you extra points.” I say whilst flattered. The dress had also reminded me of the colour of his eyes when he greeted me today. Now his eyes stay on me all evening.

The announcement for cake cutting goes off so I walk with Harry to watch. Taz looked beautiful in her embroidered dress and she glows even while narrowly missing cake all over her face. Everyone toasts and she readies for a bouquet toss.

“You’re standing here,” Taz’s cousin centres me. “Because there’s no way I’m catching that.”

“I don’t even have a boyfriend,” I say but the other girls crowd me so I stay put. The bouquet is tossed high and I don’t make much of an effort but it glances off the hand in front of me and lands on me. I squish it against me to keep it from falling.

“YN!” My friends tease me and I hold it up in mock excitement. Taz laughs from up front and I go up to hug her, I’m handed another flute of champagne and I toss it back with my best friend.

“YN’s next,” one of the bridesmaid says. “Cheers!”

I get another drink and down it with the girls. I can’t stop laughing about it. I try to look out for Harry to see how he feels about the bouquet but he must be in a darker corner. I don’t spot him.

I refuse the next drink pushed my way and move to my seat as the couple gets ready for their first dance. Harry’s not there but he sits down shortly after I do.

“Look!” I show him the bouquet. “I caught it!”

“I saw,” he smells the flowers. “I got a picture of you.”

“Let me see!” I hold my hand out and wait for him to find it.

“Oh my god,” I laugh as I zoom into my face as the flowers hit me. “Look at my face! And look at her! This is a great pic…” the words die on my lips. I’d accidentally swiped to the camera roll zooming out and I see dozens of photos of me.

“Oh,” Harry takes the phone from me. “Is that creepy? Sorry I was taking photos to send you since you’re busy having fun I-“

I feel tears threaten my makeup and I clench my mouth closed. Despite all the drinks I suddenly feel incredibly sobered.

I take his phone back and swipe through, he recorded my speech and took a million photos of me with Taz. My chin trembles.

“Hey I’m sorry,” Harry takes the phone back. “I didn’t mean to upset you I’ll delete-“

“No!” I stop him. “Don’t. I want all of them.”

“Why are you…” his confusion is all over his face. “Are you upset?”

“No,” I blink away any tears. “Sorry. No. I’m okay! I’m alright.”

It was stupid but Ethan never took photos of me. Even on important days like birthdays, Christmas, holidays. I had a million candid photos of him but I had to beg and remind him for photos of me. Harry took so many without even asking, just because he knew I would want to look back on the memories I was making. It was such a basic thing to do but it felt like the world to me in this moment.

“Thank you.” I say when he doesn’t make a move. “Honestly thank you. Sorry, ignore what my face is saying! But make sure you send every single one okay?”

“Yeah I will,” he promises. He swipes a fallen tear with a gentle smile. I draw back from his touch and use a napkin to dab at my eyes instead.

“YN you know I’m really sorry,” he says just as the first song comes on.

“No I’m fine!” I shift my chair to face the dancefloor. I position it slightly ahead of Harry so he leans forward to speak to me.

“I mean about the other wedding we went to.”

“Yeah I-“ he looks serious so I stop what I was saying. I turn slightly so I can look at him. “Can we talk about it later?”

“Yeah,” he shakes his head. “I didn’t mean to…”

“Okay,” I smile and turn back to admire the couple but I can sense the emotional turmoil beside me. I push my chair back enough to be side by side with Harry. I lean my head on his shoulder as I watch the married couple dance the first dances of many. When Harry puts his arm around me, his thumb rubs my shoulder. A finger pokes my arm and Dots face pops in beside me to waggle her eyebrows. Was everyone watching me with Harry tonight?!

When the DJ invites everyone else onto the dancefloor I pull Harry up.

“So what was it you were saying?” I ask as we wrap arms around each other.

“I like you a lot YN. A lot. Even when we first met, I started liking you right when you returned my bullshit with sarcasm. You rolled with all my jokes. It was a breath of fresh air.”

I don’t say anything; he had more to say.

“I wish I didn’t do what I did. I sabotaged everything because I was hung up over the wrong girl. And now I’m just a guy to you. A guy you kissed once, I’m just a favour returned.”

“Why are you telling me this now?” I ask.

“Just in case you felt anything, if you thought we could…”

“Harry you lied to me. Embarrassed me. You weren’t a very nice person.”

“I know-“

“I do like this Harry better.”

“Uhm,” he thinks. “Thanks. It’s old Harry, before my life went to hell. Old Harry mixed with some lessons learned. I’m telling you I was at rock bottom when I did what I did.”

“I believe you.” I did.

He sighs in relief. “Thank you.”

We dance quietly for a bit. Until I speak, “I’m trying not to date losers.”

He flexes his jaw, fixating on a spot behind my shoulder.

“I thought you were one,” I tell him honestly. “But I’m not so sure now. But this feels like asking a lot Harry I…”

“You don’t need to respond now,” he urges. “Just think about it.”

“I can’t,” I was terrified of agreeing to a relationship that would hurt me all over again. “I do like you Harry but I don’t know if I can agree to what you want…”

The truth was that Harry was showing me that the glimpses I’d gotten of him throughout the last week were more telling, more consistent than the guy he was when we first met. I was deathly afraid of getting hurt again, and I’m not sure I was willing to take the risk. If that kiss was any indication, I know Harry was telling the truth on his end but I didn’t want a relationship with a guy who started it off by lying.

“I’m-excuse me,” Harry stops mid-dance and walks away. I feel awful but I let him go, watch him disappear to the lobby, and I sit back in my seat. Dots tries to wave me by but I ignore her. The lump in my throat sits heavily and I feel like shit. Especially when a few dances later Harry returns and announces he was going home early. His face is splotchy and it feels awful.

“Are you sure?” I ask him.

“Yeah,” he holds my arm. “Thank you for tonight, and again I’m really sorry about everything.”

I just pull him into a hug, with no words equivalent to what I should say. He squeezes once and lets go.

“Tell Taz thank you for the invite. I’ll see you around.”

“Okay…bye Harry.”

That’s the last I see of him. I head right to the drinks and drink enough to feel okay. I dance with my friends and get as many pictures as my phone can handle in.

At the end of the night I go home to an empty flat and drunkenly download all the dating apps I swore off of. Swiping through like a catalogue, by the time I wake up the next morning I’m well on my way back to the dating scene.

***

I stare at the man in front of me. His profile on the app was exactly the kind of guy I was looking for. And he’d actually made me laugh a few times tonight which was a bonus. But something feels like it’s missing—they all have this last month as I became a serial dater. I was really putting myself out there but nobody made it past date two.

“So how about heading out?” He asks after the bill.

“Yeah! Sure,” I grab my purse and we walk out. He grabs my hand as we step out.

“Want to share a ride?”

“Are we going to the same place?” I ask.

“If you want,” he pulls my hand and places it on his shoulder. He was cute, I could kiss him.

And I do, but it’s just a kiss. Just two mouths kissing. I don’t feel the spark, or the passion.

“Actually,” I pull away. “I forgot I have an early morning meeting so I think I should behave and head home by myself.”

“Oh,” he looks disappointed. “Well maybe we can do something on Friday?”

“Yeah I’ll text you?”

He pecks my lips, “Sounds good.”

I get a car and as I drive away from the date my hands stray to my lips. I remember another kiss, and then I slam the door shut on it. You can’t keep comparing all your kisses to that one!

Except the thing about telling my mind not to think about something, I do. I think about Harry, and question myself like I have been ever since the wedding if I made the wrong choice. Did I push him away too quickly, out of fear? Am I protecting myself or just scared?

I open the text exchange between us like I do weekly and hover my fingers over the keyboard. What do I say? What could I say?

I scroll to the top of the conversation and find his address and plug it into my phone. I was 18 minutes away.

“Excuse me could I change the drop off?” I ask the taxi driver. “I had a change of plans.”

He asks me where and he knew the area enough to take the left and head in that direction.

That was very impulsive. Maybe I shouldn’t have done that?

Adrenaline courses through my body as I pray that he still lived in the same place. What was I going to say?

My leg bounces up and down as I stare out the window, biting down on my lip. This was stupid, I made him bloody cry the last time I saw him. Then again I cried the time before that. Were we equal? Was I twisted enough to think this could all work?

I nearly jump out of the taxi after paying and walk to the front door. Of course, you needed a key card.

With shaking fingers I call Harry.

“Hello?”

I freeze. He was out, the sounds of people and music give that away.

“YN? Is that you?”

I was so stupid! Why did I do this?

“YN?” Now Harry sounds worried. I take a deep breath.

“Sorry! Wrong number. I meant to call som-“

“YN are you alright? Is everything okay?”

The background noise disappears. He must have stepped out.

“Yes sorry to worry you!” I squeak. “Everything’s fine.”

“Why did you call?” He asks as I ask “What are you doing right now?”

We laugh. Harry tells me, “You first.”

“It was an accident…”

“Oh well…a good accident.” I can hear his smile through the phone. “I was just grading final tests at my local pub.”

His local pub…that meant he was close by. I think. My heart picks up speed. “Oh! Is that something you do often?”

“Yeah some of these papers remind me why I’m quitting this job. So I drink to get through them.”

“Giving up on the youth of tomorrow?” I ask. I spot a bench a little ways away and head to it, next to a bike rack.

“Yes!” Harry laughs. “They’ve given up on me too. They’s all assholes nobody listens to me.”

“I would’ve liked to have you as a teacher,” I go for flirting. “None of my grade school teachers were good looking. I could’ve used a distraction.”

“So you’re admitting that I’m good looking,” Harry says just as I spot him heading to his door.

“Yeah in your grey t-shirt, I think so.”

I watch as he whips his head around and scans the area until he spots me.

“I lied,” I get up and wave at him. “I came by to see you but I was embarrassed when you weren’t home.”

“Why-“ his voice sticks. “Why did you come to see me?”

“Well,” by now we’re close enough that I could shout to him but I still use the phone. “I thought about what I said that night and I think I was too harsh.”

“And?” Harry stares at me as I walk up to him.

“And I want to believe that a second impression can be just as important as a first.”

He’s alight in a second, hope injected into his features. I stop a few feet away from him.

“I’ll take that. I’ll take it.”

“Okay,” I move in closer, lowering my phone. My eyes are on his lips and I don’t care that how badly I want to kiss him is plain as day. Because in the moment he reaches for me I know he wants this just as bad.

My mind is wiped clean when he kisses me—I kind of hate myself of a month ago for denying me of this all this time.

It’s indecent, the way we kiss out there. When my mind returns to my body I push him away, flushed and nervous.

“Should we take this up to your place?”

“Why? Are you getting shy?” He teases.

“Your neighbours are getting free entertainment,” I’m out of breath as I talk and this seems to make Harry smile even harder. He presses a hard kiss to me and then leads me by the hand up to his flat. We’re on each other with every pause we take, it’s gross and unlike me but I’m just too happy to stop. The spark, the passion, everything I’d been looking for is here.

“Can I uh,” Harry closes the door behind us as I continue kissing him, my lips finding any part of him. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“Sure,” I watch him unbutton my cardigan. “I’ll take a tall glass of whatever you’re serving.”

He smirks and pulls me back in. I jump when he tells me to and he carries me to wherever his bedroom is. I’m barely in the right state of mind to notice anything as I get lost in us. In the way his hands hold me, and the way his moustache feels on my skin. Maybe it’s been a while or maybe it was him but having this after so long makes it taste sweeter than it ever had.

***

“Happy six months,” Harry wraps his arms around me from behind. I’m making us coffee, we were up especially early because we were making the trip to see Harry’s family for the holidays. Usually this is when I went to Taz’s but this year she’d urged me to spend the time with my boyfriend’s family.

She’d been suspicious when I first told her about Harry. But when she saw how happy I was she’d given it her blessings (and I’m pretty sure threatened Harry with some dismemberment). I hadn’t had a big Christmas in a while, and Harry said he had more family coming into town. I was nervous to meet so many new people, people that meant a lot to Harry. But he assured me everyone would love me.

“Happy six month,” I reach up to peck his lips and settle against him. He hums as he tightens his arms around me. I couldn’t believe this was my life now, I was happier than I ever dared to think I could be. I never knew a relationship could be so complementing, so grounding.

Despite our rocky start, that Harry and I had discussed in depth when we first started dating, we were mostly smooth sailing. The way I saw it we met as two damaged people. Somehow we parted from there and ran like parallel lines until we were straightened out enough to meet again. And now we ran together as a pair of lines.

“I’m so lucky,” Harry presses a kiss to my temple, thinking the same thing I had been. “I’m the luckiest guy in the world YN. You make me the luckiest guy in the world.”

“Then that would make me Mrs. Luckiest-Guy-in-the-World,” I joke as I turn in his embrace.

“I’d like that,” he strokes my cheek. “I’m excited to introduce you to everyone tonight.”

“That makes one of us.”

“YN I promise there’s nothing to be nervous about. They already love you because they know you’re the reason I’ve been so…me.”

I swallow the ball of emotion in my chest. We were both just us around each other. No fuss, no pretending. Just us. It wasn’t something I could share with my own family, they barely knew what I was really like. Harry had met my parents separately when they were in town a couple months ago. They’d liked him, but they also liked Ethan so it wasn’t saying much.

“I trust you,” I hold his face in my hands. “Fine.”

“Good,” his hand rubs my back. He pulls me into his chest, crushing me against him until the coffee goes off.

“Thanks love,” Harry says as I hand him a mug.

We chat about nothing as we take our coffees to the couch where we sit snuggled. I feel safe here, it’s a good feeling, a feeling that felt so overwhelmingly new sometimes that it made me want to cry. Which always made Harry laugh.

“I can’t wait to spend this new year together,” I tell him.

“Me too,” his lips press softly onto my temple. “I’m finally excited about the future. I’m doing a job I like and dating a woman I love.”

“I’m happy for us.” I smile up at him.

We sit snuggled on the couch as we sip our morning coffee. I savour everything about this moment.

With Harry life was stable, it was good. I knew I would never pick up my phone and find a text so life-shattering like the ex-text had done to me; I know it was impossible to predict the future but somehow I could tell you that I had a good feeling about it.

———————————

TAGLIST: @tiaamberxx @cherryshouse

[royaltea000]

Qitian dasheng and other outfit concept sketches

[theprincessandthepie]

replaying dragon age inquisition is just an exercise in “the rebel mages would not fucking do that”

[peteytheparrot]

How tf does Dogman manage to have a better redemption arc story then Hazbin Hotel

[scholarhect]

just for my own self i do subscribe to the belief that cam didn’t do all the special cohort sexy classes. she never intended to join up & i feel like it’s an environment where they would’ve allowed a personalized study path if she fought for it. and like i think if she could get herself out of it she definitely would’ve 😭 could explain why she’s done with all her classes & just sitting around. unless everybody joining the cohort finishes with their classes pretty young too, so they can go. i mean the cohort has tons of kids so it does check out, but i just don’t think, for the sixth’s particular strategy, it would be the most effective….. let those kids cook a little while longer. please.

[why-the-heck-not]

hate hate hate the feeling of turning in a part of an assignment and being hella embarrased abt how it is :3 like, feeling someone’s just gonna email me like ”hey?? what the fuck ??? what are u doing here this is garbage” like yeah dude i dont know what to tell you, things did not go well this week

[weezerlvr228]

flippin boobahs!